#their roots were basically in mud they should be dead

[reddogf13]

Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 4

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Rated: M - Dead Dove Do Not Eat This takes place in the Outlast 2 universe after all.l.

Previous chap: CH 3: Atonement

Next chap: CH 5: Deluge

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~Ch:4 Eucharist~

Blake handed out basic orders to everyone else. “Fix what you can. Gather up everything that could be useful.” They spread from him down the town streets. Some fixing their own houses that collapsed from the major storm. Gathering chunks of metal buried partly in the mud. Barbwire taken down wherever it remained tied.

He went out to find the farmers followed by Marta. They were working on gathering what they could. Hanging the cobs looking mostly dark. A few rotten tomatoes on a table having its seeds plucked out. A few sacks of potatoes covered in fresh roots set aside. Approaching James to check in. “How are things going?”

“Better than first expected. Scoured the fields and found all of that left in the dirt.” Waving the knife he was using toward the collected stuff. Using the blade to scrape out more seeds from mushy tomatoes. “The potatoes were at the back of the barn regrowin' on their own. We can plant them right away if you want?”

“Uh… What do you use to water all of this? The lake and river?”

“River only, why?”

“I don't know if it's poisoned or not. There were a lot of dead fish when I crossed the lake.”

“Yeah, we worried about that. Many of us noticed it depends on which part you were at. Down round the main river the mines leached out to it. Spreading further into the lake. Anybody who drank from there suffered some serious illness. Us, meanwhile on the split river creek did fine. Long as you didn't eat the fish jumping up and down river rapids in between.”

“So the creeks fine, but fish aren't?”

“We can strictly take northern river water and be safe. Otherwise there ain't much more we can do. Canned food we can live off of a little while longer. Have to mention though that our pantries are gettin' tight. Something Knoth always made a point of not mattering.” James repeatedly side eyed Marta for a reaction. Faking the priest's voice next. “ “Ignore your empty bellies for soon we'll be feasting off God's harvest in heaven.”. ” Dropping the act. “I think he sang a different tune in private.”

“True. Can't live strictly off hunting for forever. Sounds like you didn't have the same faith.”

“Hard to after a while.” Watching Marta. “Faith works like food. Can be good for ya or bad. With Knoth we had a black moldy loaf of bread. Starved, we ate in the hopes it'd kill the pains. Deep down I think we all knew it only made things worse. Made us sick from the inside out. Might take some longer than others to see it. This place used to be better, not so rotten, although I admit it still had its dark spots that we ignored. I pray from here we can get better.”

Blake breathed out a “Yeah.” Telling James to plant the potatoes despite the concern about their water. Asking next. “What's with all the tall fences and barbed wire?” Didn't know you could put corn in a max security prison.

“Couple reasons, Thieves or escapees. Certain people ate first and the rest got desperate for scraps.”

“Mm, I don't think it's necessary anymore. Break them down If you have some free time.” Finishing his check in. Passing through town to try and find the group of hunters. Wanting to learn himself how to trap and forage. Marta limping beside him had him think of what she should be doing. Can't be an enforcer anymore, shouldn't have been in the first place. I guess every town needs a sheriff to break up disputes though. Won't have to kill anyone, she's intimidating enough to stop people from fighting. But her limp could drag her down if things get serious. Feeling bad that she was limping to follow him everywhere. “You don't have to come. You can rest at home if that's better for you.”

“No.” She stated then spoke out what sounded like an excuse. “I won't miss the word of a visiting Angel.”

“I'm not- … What if the angel tells you to go home?”

She let out a rough hum. “... Then I'll go home.”

“Then go home.” He stopped and so did she.

An annoyed bible verse mumbled before she asked. “What will you be doing?”

“Learn how to trap and forage until the day ends. I'll come back and maybe we'll all get to eat something that's not canned. Go home and rest your ankle.”

“It's fine, I can still move.”

“You shouldn't be walking on it. I'm ordering you to go rest.” Smiling at her mumbled along verses when turning to leave. Splitting with one heading up the mountain and the other down. Traveling around the forest while keeping Temple Gate in sight he found the group of hunters. Gathering around a cluster of berry bushes. Listening to John explain trapping while they worked. Blake was greeted as he joined in. Caught up to where they were in the lesson. Reported to on where rabbit wires were set in the hopes they'd snag something. Based on how many baskets of berries they collected he hoped everyone would get at least a small bowl's worth. Having some luck with the rabbit wires. Not enough for everyone between the small numbers caught. It turned into a topic of who would get some.

John stated what felt like the obvious. “You should take one.”

“No, there are a lot worse than me.” Wish I could feed everyone with a single rabbit. “Think we'll find anything else today?” Taking in the sun approaching the horizon.

“Maybe, up on the mountain side we used to find a ton of edible plants. Wild onions to carrots were up there. Don't know how much we'll find now. Since heretics were running rampant all through these woods.”

Blake nearly choked on his spit at the mention. “You think we'll see any?”

“I'm sure we won't. This is considered a bit far from where they normally spread out. Long as we keep heading west toward the sun set.”

“Mm… If we do find anything we could try and make a soup. Boil everything in a big pot, if we have one. Keep starvation back for a day.”

“Sounds good. I know a lot of leafy greens that should be up there. Not as filling as actual vegetables, but good for now… What will you do about the heretics?”

“... I don't know. … Feels weird calling them heretics still. They were just people who wanted to escape Knoth.” Stomach churning on the topic. “I rather not get involved unless I have to.” Ending the topic there to press forward up the mountain. Collecting various edible plants that satisfied Blake's needs for a soup. No carrots, but they found onions along with a collection of mushrooms on a tree. Their group took a break at the mountain's top to eat a small collection of edible flowers. Some weren't flavorful while some were a bit sour like lemons. Blake winced at his shoved down handful making him drool excessively. Unsure if chewing them of flavor felt better compared to harshly swallowing early. At least he caused others to chuckle at his ridiculous eating. Happy to have a little something in his stomach after so long. “Think we'll make it back by nightfall?”

“Just about.” John partly covered his eyes to see how low the sun was set. “Dinners gonna be late by the time we finish cooking it.” Carving bits out of a branch making the rough shape of a fox.

“Heh, I used to carve stuff like that. Haven't since I left scho-” His happy memory ruined by another. Jessica... I should have carved a rock for her too. Even if it's been years. By the change in Blake's expression John offered him the small carving knife.

“You can have it if you want. They're easy to make.”

“You sure?” He perked up at the small gift.

“Yeah, got five more at home. I lose them constantly.”

“Thanks.” He glanced around him for something to carve. I could make something to place at the graves. Locking onto a dead looking sapling sticking straight from the ground. Its measly branches bare of any leaves with its bark sun bleached white. Tall yet thin enough to fully grasp with a hand. Should be easy enough to take a chunk off. Grabbing onto the whole thing to yank back. Discovering it to be far sturdier than it looked. Shoving it back and forth to yank its roots free.

“Uh, I could find you some wood?” John offered. Watching Blake continue to struggle against the dead sapling.

“No, I'm not letting this tree win.” Blake joked through his fight. Ripping it enough to pop it free of the earth. Coming out with it was a smooth rock the sapling grew around. “Wow.” He turned it over for a closer look. No wonder it was so sturdy. Dirt brushed away from the roots thick as its own branches. Taking in the whole thing he was excited to start carving. Wanting to spare a lot of it with only a few extra twigs shaved off its branched top. Woodworking was one of the few classes he loved and was exceptionally well at. He cleaned the sapling of any sprouting branches down to a long straight shape. Smaller stringy roots snipped away for a cleaner look. Preserving the smooth rock it had attached itself to. Carving the rough shape of a snake winding down its long length. The head of it coiled just under the rock in a winded back position. Threatening to strike out from under the rock. That was as far as he got before they started to head back. Blake worked hard to carefully carve out the criss crossing scales down the serpent.

Forced to stop when it got too dark to work. Pausing for the moment when they returned to the dining hall. Setting up a whole makeshift process to cook dinner for a mass of starving people. Huge pots gathered to cook chunks of prepared rabbit followed by the various veg. Collected baskets of berry's delicately spread out by the cupful. If there were any extras they'd be put aside for tomorrow. The town was gathered in to be lined up for their dinner. Pots brought out to a bar top outside the kitchen doors for soup to be poured into bowls. Given a cup of berries as a strange side of sorts, but nobody was complaining.

Blake skipped eating for now to finish his carving in the kitchen. Off to the side was a small carved out dove. A fake banner around its neck donning the name Jessica. He planned to place it soon on the stone graves. Smoothing out the last few angles of the rattlesnake currently. Smiling over his finished staff of white turned black surrounding the stone still attached. Its shape resembled a bulky hammer that would surely kill someone if slammed down hard enough. Various open areas between the snake lightly carved to show imprints of leafy ground litter. Satisfied that no more needed to be done he left the kitchen to find Marta. Asking around he found out she finished eating a while ago and was back on patrol. He ignored any offerings of food to take before going back out. Wanting to give the walking staff to her soon as possible. Running around in the dark for her going by vague memories of her patrol. Eventually she found him first, leaning against a building to catch his breath.

“Come to find me, Angel?”

“Yes, and you don't have to call me that. Blake's fine.” Wheezing for more air. “Made you this.” Offering her the walking staff. She inspected it up and down without a move to take it. In fact she leaned away from it. Realizing he'd have to do some convincing. “I thought you would need it to walk. It's lighter than the … Last thing. ... Pretty sure with the rock you could still crack a skull.” Based on her negative reaction he was quick to follow up with. “But I saw it more of a defense thing. Better to have and not need than the other way. Everything's fine now, but if anybody needed saving I'm sure you can do it. I promise that I'll never ask you to kill anyone.”

Given an honest promise she took the staff from him. A soft spoken. “Thank you.” given back.

“Welcome.” Turning to visit the child's graves next.

“You want me to watch the streets tonight?” Using the staff to walk more smoothly by his side.

“Well, you don't have to. If people want to run they can.”

“What about the heretics?”

“... Yeah. Keep an eye out. Just scare them away, you don't have to hurt them… Should stop calling them heretics too.” Delicately placing Jessica's white dove between some stones across the grave site.

“Then what are they?”

He walked silent as he thought of a new term. Can't call them outsiders. I didn't like that when Knoth used it against me. Strangers? But they're not really. Could call them survivors, but isn't everyone? Just use them or people, but if we need to talk about them it could get confusing. Them just seems rude and ostracizing. Developing a headache from the running in circles he was doing. Settled on a label he himself thought was stupid, but felt right. “Goats.”

“Goats?” Marta's brows furrowed. “Why that?”

“It sounds better that the mountains are infested by goats then heretics.”

“What shall goats be called then when differentiating?”

“They'll be heretics.” Letting out a light chuckle. Marta let out an amused puff of air while giving him a questioning look. It was the first time he didn't see Marta so depressingly serious.

“If that's what the angel wants. I'll watch out for visits by “Goats”.”

“Make sure you get some sleep.”

“More plans for tomorrow?”

“Nothing like today. More rebuilding, more hunting for food.” Entering the dining hall to collect his serving. Long cold by now from when it was set aside. “It takes so long to gather everyone. I don't want to interrupt things so often.”

“The speaker horns still work after the storm. I can see the green light out the room's window. It was the best way for word to travel without physically doing so.”

Ugh, then I have to use something Knoth touched. Finishing his small meal. “Can you show me?”

“I can.” Leading him off toward a large two story house. Neighboring the compound near the helicopter crash site. Fully white with pillars lining the front with a second story balcony. The two front doors boarded over where the glass panels were broken out. A green light shown through a front lower window. Blake checked the doors and found them unlocked. Stepping through he saw the insides far more decorated then other places. Nice large rugs covering the floors. Many paintings covering walls blocked by fine carvings and vases.

Stepping to the radio room he saw Marta staying back outside. “Not coming?”

“This was Knoth's home.”

Of course it is. “Oh… Well, he's not here anymore.” Coaxing her to step inside. Waiting for her to duck under the doorway before moving deeper inside. Taking in the long set up radio controls. Most he figured out were to alert what was connected and what wasn't. The ones on were green, but many more were blacked out. “Do you know where “Eastern top road” is?”

“A road leading up toward goat infested forest.”

“Makes sense.” Other unlit labels saying eastern this or that. John said the goats were spreading out around there. Pressing a button that was labeled “talk”. “Testing.” His voice heard loud and clear from outside. “Heh, still works.” His smile dropped when he found an orange medicine bottle sitting out not far. Swiping it to read the label. “Prescribed to Ethel Garrison. Penicillin G Benzathine - (100mg) to be taken twice daily for 14 days.” Hmm, still in date. Must've bought these from someone recently. Pouring himself a couple to swallow down dry. “We need to find more of these.” Holding the bottle up for Marta to see.

“... Those aren't study aids, are they?”

“No, They're antibiotics for all the diseases around here. I said he could've helped the scalled at any time. These are how.” Rattling the bottle before setting it in a pocket on his vest. Facing her, she had a burning glare pointed toward the floor. “Did you know?”

“None were allowed to ask, but still others spoke about- ... I was told to quiet them…”

“How'd people know? A guess?”

“Us who are older once lived on the outside. Convinced by Knoth and rejected by others, we followed him en masse. 'till we settled here. I was far younger then.”

“You've been outside? How long ago?”

“Mm.” She hummed in thought. “'Bout more than 40 years past since.”

“That's - that's a while.” He nervously chuckled. “Has anyone been out recently?”

“Jacob has. His last visit may have been a month away now. He was sent out to lead a small group for buyin’ a list. Stuff we couldn't make like gas for the generator, “study aids”, to name a few. Don't remember seein' his fellow travelers around.”

“We'll have to find him tomorrow. It's time for another trip.” Leaving the radio room to snoop around the place. Drawers filled by many other bottles left empty. More canned food Blake noted to take back when done. Upstairs he found an office covered in drafts of his gospel. Swept away into the trash bin until it was over filled by Blake. Buried under a pile of fallen papers was a huge floor safe. “Whoa, wonder what Knoth's got in here.” He grabbed an iron poker by the empty fireplace. Using it as a makeshift crowbar to stab along the sides. Managing to stab it in between the door to force it up. He could wedge it enough to see the door bending up, but not enough to break it. Even with him leaning his whole weight onto the bar.

“Want me to try?”

Blake couldn't answer through his wheezing, giving a tired head nod as he stepped back. Marta set her staff to the side to grip the poker. Slamming it down firmly with a shout that cracked the safe door free. Thrown back to slam into the floor behind it. The poker itself stuck dented in a curve tossed aside by her. Both peered down into the large hidden safe.

“Guess this solves one problem.” Pulling out a huge brick of cash. A quick flip told him it was indeed all hundred dollar bills. Laying down on the floor he dipped his head into the dark space. Surprised there was a ladder below buried in the pile. Counting the stacks sitting on stacks of hundreds then sitting back up to stand. “Without messing up the stacks I'm guessing there's at least 9 million on the surface alone. If this thing is six feet deep it might be closer to 27 million. When we find Jacob we'll take some of this and buy everything we can to get things running again.”

“Like what?”

“A shit ton of seeds for one. Fuel to keep the generator running.” Grabbing a nearby empty prescription bottle off a window sill. “And pills, a lot of them.”

“You planning to help the scalled?”

“What kind of angel would I be if I didn't?” Setting the bottle back. “I don't think there's anything else here. Meet me at the hall tomorrow. Bring Jacob if you find him.”

[succygirl]

Honest to god horrified at how bad off these Aloe polyphylla are. Not like super surprised because I took them home from my school for a reason. The reason being they'd straight up die in their care. It gets far too hot and as you can see their roots are suffocating and dying.

I'm going to go off of Ecoscape Nursery's care guide for how to help them survive going forward. First off is removing all of the dead roots. Only the healthy yellow ones get to stay.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH46

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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Chapter 46: Star Death Reality Show (XXIX)

All of the blood in Qi Leren’s body had solidified, and every cell was screaming silently, "No, don't, don't be it"! But this useless prayer could not help their current dangerous situation.

The sound from the vent became clearer and clearer, and it came out through the metal shutters. Qi Leren suddenly woke up from the stiffness that was like being thrown into a freezer, pointed to the door, and shouted, "Open the door! Fast!"

Dr. Lu was closest to the door, and rushed to open it. As a result, as soon as he raised his leg, his left foot stumbled over his right foot, and he fell hard on his face. Du Yue reacted quickly and rushed to the door to unlock it urgently. However, Leviathan had opened the metal shutter in the vent, and its tentacles wrapped in tinfoil stretched out from the black tunnel.

Qi Leren fired three shots at the tentacles. Two shots missed and one shot hit, but like last time, with an ordinary gun’s offensive power, it was impossible to break through the octopus’s shell.

The monster fell down from above like a pool of mud and expanded to a size larger than before. Its mass had exceeded that of a human, and after it fell, those branching tentacles spread across the ground like dead roots, motionless.

Qi Leren retreated slowly, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the door. Dr. Lu was struggling to get up from the ground while Du Yue was sweating as he struggled to unlock the door, because it had been Qi Leren who had locked the door just now, and Du Yue was unfamiliar with this type of lock.

No, I can't get out yet. I have to stall for time... But it would be difficult to stall by fighting. The best way is...

Qi Leren shouted: "Du Yue, use your skill!"

By the time the two rookies reacted, Qi Leren had been chased by the octopus and didn’t hesitate to jump into the vent!

"Stop, don’t move! There’s a kind of charge up!" Du Yue quickly launched this bug-like skill card [Protagonist Halo]!

[Protagonist Halo: When you use this skill card, you instantly become the center of attention, the protagonist of the story, and the fearless saviour! You, with the frightening aura of a king, can easily move people’s hearts, but you can always keep your last breath when you are beaten by a powerful enemy, because the enemy can’t help but explain his motives and modus operandi to you (although there may not be enough time). This skill lasts for one minute, with a cooldown time of three hours. During the start of the skill, persuasiveness increases by 20% and some people’s IQ decreases by 20%. You will not die if attacked. After all, you are the protagonist of this one minute.]

With He Yi’s brain, Leviathan was like any boss who had been faced with the lead character. It had forgotten who it was, where it was, and what it was going to do. It just stood there and listened to this guy who was 1.9 meters tall and 18 years old and could barely act as the teen protagonist. He shouted at it with a cracking voice, and sincerely advised it to abide by human laws and surrender itself quickly.

Ah, there was an invisible and intangible mysterious aura on this human being, which made everyone who saw him believe that this was the legendary protagonist! Although it was very angry, it still had to listen to the protagonist's words!

If it wasn't for its lack of vocal cords, it would probably explain its criminal motives and criminal record. Qi Leren took this opportunity to rush to the door, grabbing Dr. Lu with one hand and unlocking it nervously with the other.

This lock should be like this, wrong, so like this, wrong, how is it unlocked?

Under the Protagonist Halo, Qi Leren, whose IQ had plummeted by 20%, went crazy. It took half a minute to unlock the door and kick Dr. Lu out: "Run!"

Dr. Lu clutched his kicked ass and ran away in three steps.

The most delicious one had escaped the danger. Now there were less than 20 seconds left. Qi Leren shouldered the rocket launcher up off the ground and grabbed Du Yue to drag him out. Watching the "protagonist" run away, the monster finally woke up from the unexplained state of wonder, and the huge mouthparts hidden beneath its tentacles let out a sharp cry, rushing to catch up!

This speed was too fast! Qi Leren kicked Du Yue out with another foot, braced himself against the door, and aimed the rocket launcher at Leviathan, but it was too late. The monster had already jumped in front of him, and its tentacles suddenly stretched. He was dragged to the ground by his feet!

As soon as Qi Leren's hands loosened, the rocket launcher on his shoulder immediately smashed down and landed on his instep, causing a tingle of pain, and his left arm was swallowed by Leviathan's sharp-toothed maw!

"Qianbei!" Du Yue cried, looking back to pull Qi Leren out.

At this time, it was too late to save, and even if he loaded the file, he couldn't go back to the time before his left hand was injured. However, Qi Leren still saved. He felt the pain as if his arm was stuck in a meat grinder, everything below his elbow being ground by countless tiny teeth.

But this was also an opportunity. Qi Leren, who almost fainted in pain, used his quick wits, and a miniature bomb from his item bar appeared directly in his left hand—that is, in the belly of the octopus. Only six minutes were left before his privacy time ran out!

This explosion was even more devastating because it happened directly in Leviathan's body! This terrible explosion made the inside of its body turn inside out, and the brain hidden in it was more fragile than any internal organs. After the explosion, the human brain was useless.

Qi Leren's situation was not much better. The heat and impact of the explosion came out of Leviathan's mouthparts towards him, slamming him against the wall and breaking his neck. He died on the spot and was resurrected at the save point.

Du Yue, who witnessed the death of his senior, was still dumbfounded. Qi Leren had already judged the current situation—he couldn't continue to play! To say nothing of his left hand that was basically wasted, he would die in a few minutes if he didn’t stop the bleeding. Leviathan, though badly hurt, obviously did not lose its fighting power, and even became more violent!

At the moment when Qi Leren resurrected, it had already become like a giant spinning top, spinning wildly on the ground and rushing towards them!

Qi Leren, who suffered from the pain, relied entirely on willpower and kicked Du Yue out the door with one foot. After he slipped out of the door, he threw it closed. The sound of heavy objects hitting the door sounded behind him. Leviathan's bloated and heavy body hit the door directly, but it didn't open the door.

Because its brain had been destroyed in the explosion just now.

One destroyed hand, but he lowered the enemy’s IQ. This round was not a loss!

Damn, you shouldn't have forgotten to shoot He Yi's head before, otherwise, how could you play so badly?!

Because of the severe pain from the intense trauma just now, Qi Leren's right hand covered the elbow of his left arm. The part below the elbow has landed in Leviathan's stomach. The blood was spraying out like a broken faucet, reaching half a metre away. The ground was as horrible as a murder scene!

Du Yue looked at Qi Leren at a loss: "Qianbei, your hand is gone! What should we do! It's bleeding!"

Qi Leren glanced at his privacy time of only five minutes. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to stay awake. If he passed out now, with Du Yue's rookie first aid knowledge, he might really fall to the fate of bleeding to death. At this crucial moment, I have to rely on myself. Qi Leren took out the first-aid supplies that Chen Baiqi had once enthusiastically recommended from his item bar, and gritted his teeth: "Help me hold it."

Du Yue held his arm and listened to the thumping sound behind him. He helped Qi Leren to tie the rubber hose with trepidation. Qi Leren pulled hard and tied it around the middle position of his upper arm. The wound finally stopped bleeding crazily, but it still couldn't be stopped altogether.

Qi Leren remembered that Chen Baiqi had once said that if no measures were taken within three minutes, this kind of limb injury was basically equivalent to signing a death certificate. If there is no teammate who can treat it, take a soldering iron or flamethrower and burn it against the wound. Only when the blood vessels cauterize to necrosis would it stop the massive bleeding.

"Go, Dr. Lu certainly didn't go far, and time is running out," Qi Leren said, suffering from dizziness and severe pain, and hurried in the direction Dr. Lu had run away. Along the way, he was still thinking. He had had a fight with the big boss, and was injured and dying. He also ran away with the protagonist. It was like a life mentor of the leading role who was going to croak.

Bah, it's so unlucky!

Before running far, Qi Leren heard Dr. Lu’s voice: "You ran too far!"

Qi Leren and Du Yue stopped, looked intently, and Dr. Lu, who had opened the [Free WIFI] skill card, was squatted in the corner without any presence, shouting at them. Looking at Qi Leren's injury, he was shocked: "What's wrong with you, don't move, don't move, I'll give you quick first aid! Oh come on, this injury is too heavy!"

"There’s still four minutes left," Qi Leren reported the time, in too much pain to speak.

Dr. Lu immediately used "Doctor’s Orders". In the milky light, the continuously bleeding wound miraculously stopped. Although the amputated limb could not grow back, the wound healed quickly and new skin covered it. It was completely healed.

Dr. Lu was also shocked: "This effect is too good... Am I so powerful? Am I really a genius nurse?"

Du Yue said faintly on the side: "You’ve never had such a good effect in treating my injuries..."

"No, no, no, this must be because your IQ is not enough to affect the performance of 'Doctor’s Orders'. The skill card says that the more impressive the patient is, the better!" Dr. Lu said convincingly.

"But your treatment for others isn’t this good," Du Yue refused to accept it and refused to admit it was an IQ problem.

"Right, why is that?" Dr. Lu was also confused.

Just then, the pain that made him feel close to blacking out finally faded away. Qi Leren untied the rubber hose which left a bruise on his arm. He stared at the healed amputated limb on his elbow for more than ten seconds, and then he came back from the state of high tension just now.

Although he had died before, thanks to S/L Data, he has always completed the tasks with intact hands and feet every time, and this was the first time that he has lost a hand directly. He thought he would be disgracefully frightened, but because of these two rookies, he looked much calmer.

"Don't worry, there are people in the Twilight Township who can do limb regeneration. I know them. If you go back and pay a few survival days, you can grow it back." When Dr. Lu saw Qi Leren staring at the amputated hand, he thought he was sad, so he comforted him.

"Is it expensive?" As a poor player who has consumed a lot of survival days in the process of competing with Su He, this was what Qi Leren is most concerned about.

"It's okay, I remember it was just over a hundred days," Dr. Lu said.

Qi Leren, who had only seventeen days to live, didn't want to speak.

Du Yue was not rich either. He said gloomily, "That’s a lot, I only have thirty days..."

There was no harm without comparison, and Qi Leren suddenly felt that he was impoverished...

"It’s nothing, if you don’t have enough, I’ll pay for you. I usually charge for treating others. Healers are quite scarce, so I’ve earned a lot. Right now I have about two hundred survival days!" Dr. Lu said generously.

More than two hundred days… More than two hundred days… More than two hundred days…

Du Yue would be silent when hearing this number, and Qi Leren would cry when hearing it.

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Editor’s Notes: For anyone (me) who has forgotten the exact details, here’s the description for Doctor’s Orders:

[Doctor’s Orders] (Non-Binding Skill Card): The ability to work miracles comes with a price – a price for your patients. There will be no mercy given to those who do not deserve. Allows the holder to heal all who meet the following requirements: attractive, not a Virgo and an IQ over 100. The number of requirements met will determine the effectiveness of the treatment. Skill cooldown: 2 hours. (translated by Sigma)

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[delimeful]

Community Gardens

this is a donation drive commission for @htmlfroggy! based on the prompt: platonic intrulogical g/t & the song ‘community gardens’ by the scary jokes! this is my first time trying a songfic, so i hope its good!

warnings: remus and all the vaguely squicky things he says, illness, misunderstandings, small mentions of body horror

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Full disclosure, I am a monster A creature of despair, not that that should be a cause for concern If there's one thing I've learned in all my years here It's that despair is less abundant in those who understand How to plant their hearts in community gardens

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Logan first met his best friend because he was investigating rumors of a human lurking around the border of his forest. 

He had his doubts, of course; ever since he’d personally visited every human settlement on the perimeter of his woods, the ritual sacrifices done to ‘appease the monsters’ had quickly come to a halt, and the amount of angry humans out for vengeance had dropped concurrently. 

When he gently pushed past the boughs of the saplings marking the border, however, there was indeed a human crouched on the ground, seemingly buried up to his elbows in mud. They looked up at Logan’s approach, and the giant was prepared for a number of reactions to his presence. Swearing, screaming, slumping over in a dead faint. 

Plenty had responded to him like this in the past, and plenty more certainly would in the future. It came with being a monstrous giant.

The human offering him a slightly unhinged grin and a mud-slinging wave wasn’t one of the responses he had prepared for.

As such, his reply was uncharacteristically tentative, as though his voice would snap the human out of the peaceable trance they were in. “...Greetings. I am Logan, denizen of this forest. I’m here to inquire into what you’re doing here at the edge of the woods.” 

“Ooh, an interrogation!” The human didn’t stand, craning their neck back at a painful-looking angle to see him properly. “What if I don’t want to say, huh? Are you gonna grind me into bone meal under your heel?”

Logan blinked. The fear that normally would accompany such words was still completely absent. “No. I will not be harming you unless you move to harm those under my protection.”

The human sighed, almost disappointed. “Yeah, I didn’t take you for the type. Oh, well, guess we’re both leaving unsatisfied then.” 

Logan waited a moment longer, and then sighed lowly, before lowering himself to sit amongst his trees. The human cocked an eyebrow, looking as though another inappropriate comment was on the tip of his tongue. 

“If you don’t wish to explain yourself, then I will be supervising your excursions as the guardian of these woods,” Logan announced, sure that his cold gaze would at least give the strange human some pause. 

Of course, because they seemed to delight in proving his assumptions wrong, the human just stared for a moment before a wide, enthusiastic smile spread over his face. 

Logan sighed again, and steadfastly ignored the bright flare of curiosity the human had sparked in him. Most likely, they were simply a thrill-seeker, looking for an adventure like all the epics humans told about interacting with giants. Surely, they’d grow bored soon enough.

-

You'll be fine, you honeycomb Who could ever hurt you? Who could be so cold? You'll be fine, oh honey pie Who could ever hurt you? Who could be so unkind?

-

“Who did it?” 

The half-growl in Remus’ voice was enough that his gaze was immediately drawn away from the Lewisia cotyledon that he had been carefully coaxing root rot from. 

His unruly human acquaintance had apparently gotten closer while he was distracted, abandoning his small plot of freshly-turned soil and haphazard seedlings. It was a break from their typical engagement, where Logan remained in the treeline and Remus remained rooted in his strange, barely-edible ‘vegetable garden’ as they talked. 

“What do you mean?” he replied once he’d processed the strange question. “Is something amiss?” 

“Is your brain made of stone?” Remus shot back sharply, and Logan’s eyebrows drew together automatically at the insult. The human barely seemed to notice, thankfully. “Of course something’s amiss, you’re bleeding out all over the place!” 

He pointed emphatically, and Logan realized what the human was so up in arms about even as he turned to look. On his left side, stretched over his ribs, a long gash was slowly trickling sap-like ichor. The wound had been mostly hidden by his left arm, but in turning to focus on a new plant, he must have accidentally displayed it to the human. “Ah. Do not be alarmed, it’s a shallow wound and will scab over shortly--”

Remus waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t insult me, I know that much from the look of it alone! What I don’t know is: Who. Did. It?” 

Logan frowned briefly. He wasn’t sure why the human wanted to know, but he certainly wasn’t in the habit of denying anyone information. “I wasn’t informed of their name. A Jorōgumo sought sanctuary, which I granted, and approximately half a day later, a human mercenary attempted to breach the forest borders.” 

“And you killed the bastard?” Remus asked expectantly. Logan couldn’t help the minute flinch that traveled through him, the way his face shuttered back to cold neutrality. He’d thought… It didn’t matter. It was his own fault for believing that the man saw him in any other way. 

“No. I warded the forest against them with a bit of their blood. Once they realize the wards are impenetrable, I believe they will move on to an easier bounty.” 

“Not if I get to them first,” Remus replied cheerily, spinning his slightly-rotted wooden trowel in his hand. Logan felt a thrum of alarm at the idea of him getting in an altercation with a mercenary, though he wasn’t sure why. If two outsiders got in a fight, it was technically out of his jurisdiction.

“You most certainly will not attempt to hinder their departure,” he said firmly. “It would be detrimental to all parties involved.” 

Remus visibly pouted, before sighing and throwing the trowel at the ground hard enough to half-bury it. “Fine, Beanstalk, but at least let me—“ 

He stepped forwards, even closer, and Logan stiffened, all-too-aware of how small the human was compared to him. “What are you doing?” 

His voice came out slightly shriller than normal, and Remus jerked to a stop instantly, glancing up at him before turning his head away, something in his expression dropping. 

“I was just… nothing. Forgot for a second,” he muttered, bringing his hand up to inspect his dirt-encrusted nails. He continued before Logan could ask what exactly he’d forgotten that had prompted such a bitter expression. “Anyways, I’m sure you’re tired of babysitting, so I’m heading back. Seeya, Colossus.” 

Logan watched as Remus whistled off-tune as he turned away,  his shoulders drawn just slightly too-tight, and felt as though he’d missed something important.

-

The culmination of man's mistakes came the day The sun ran so hot, it turned the desert to glass If there's something to be learned from all these losers It's that the price that you pay For arrogance and a false sense of immunity Is to face the wrath of a dying star

-

For the next few moon cycles, Remus barely appeared at their-- his makeshift garden, and when he did, he was simultaneously more subdued and twitchier than usual. He almost always left early.

Logan knew, logically, that he should be glad for this development. The human’s basic survival instincts had clearly finally kicked in, and he was distancing himself appropriately from a monster. It was what he’d been expecting from the beginning, and better that it had happened now rather than go on any longer, what with how… worked up he was over it. 

Ridiculous. He sighed through his nose and turned away from the cluster of bleeding Hydnellum he’d found, attempting to force his thoughts away from the human and what his reaction to such a unique-looking mushroom specimen would have been. He needed to focus on his duties as the curator of these woods. 

However, it seemed fate had other ideas, for it was only a few groves later that he was called upon by a Hamrammr, Alda, who had been wearing the form of a large wood grouse for the past few seasons. 

“I have news on your human,” she said, and her tone was urgent enough that Logan forewent reminding her that Remus was not ‘his’ human. “One of my flock saw him dragged into a town jail two days past, and he hasn’t emerged since.” 

Logan attempted to ignore his quickening heartbeat. He couldn’t jump to conclusions. “Which town?”

Alda watched him keenly for a moment. “The populous one to the northeast of our territory. Be careful, Curator. You know the laws of these woods apply to even you.” 

Logan nodded sharply, and then was moving. Once he reached the fields between his woods and the human settlement, he took a deep breath to clear his mind. Barging into the humans’ space like this would hardly be appropriate, seeing as he worked to keep them from doing the very same to him. 

Instead, he folded in on himself like a withering plant, ignoring the painful cracking of wood and bone as he took on a smaller form. A simple glamor to match, and he didn’t receive a second glance as he walked the streets as an average traveler. 

An average traveler could find someone willing to gossip easily enough. And if Remus would fear him less in a reduced form, that was just a completely unintentional bonus.

“Criminals? We don’t have many here, and none with a valuable bounty.” 

“Really? I believed I heard whispers of a recent arrest,” Logan replied, completely truthfully.  

The shopkeep waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, yes, the resident cursebearer was found guilty of conspiring with the beasts of the enchanted wood to try and bring destruction upon our humble town, but as I said, no bounty--” 

“The denizens of the woods are forbidden from attacking nearby towns,” Logan recited automatically, his mind racing. Remus was a cursebearer? The practice of directing all the magical and non-magical curses of a town onto one individual was archaic, barbaric, and… explained a lot about Remus’s behavior, actually. There was a strange pit in his stomach at the thought.

“That’s what the giant told everyone, but how are we to really trust the word of a monster? Besides, the cursebearer was witnessed haunting the edges of the woods, speaking with that very giant!” Logan kept his face carefully neutral as the shopkeep shook his head. “It’s just too suspicious. He could have struck a deal, could already be one of those beasts at this point, and he spent enough time dragging filth through our streets as it is. Good riddance, I say.” 

The shopkeep broke off as he turned away, hiding the crack in his expressionless mask. Logan barely heard the resulting questions as he walked away with sharp steps.

The next morning, the town woke to the sight of half the jail’s roof torn clean off, and one very distinctive prisoner missing. 

-

You'll be fine, you honeycomb Who could ever hurt you? Who could be so cold? You'll be fine, oh honey pie Who could ever hurt you? Who could be so unkind?

-

Logan carefully cradled the human’s limp form in one hand, seated in their usual spot at the edge of the woods. He hadn’t expected to be so obvious in his retrieval of Remus, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it, either. 

When he’d successfully infiltrated the jail, he’d been subject to an embarrassing lack of control over his magic at the sight of Remus. The human had been barely-conscious, wrists shackled to the wall of his cell and a sickly pallor to his skin. It looked as though what little he’d been fed had been expunged in fits of sickness. 

Worst of all, he’d managed to focus on Logan’s frozen form after a moment, and a haphazard expression of delight had spread across his face. “Itty bitty Logan,” he slurred feverishly, “man, did I die al’rdy? Good. Missed ya.” 

Logan’s grip on his shapeshift had snapped as though he was a youngling again, and somewhere between caving the ceiling in and rusting the cuffs away, Remus had fallen back to unconsciousness. Even now, as the sun rose, he was uncannily still, only the rasps of each shallow breath proving his life intact. 

“I’m unsure what to do,” Logan confessed, studying Remus’s frame. The human was so small without his usual exuberant gesturing. His wrists oozed where the manacles had been, human flesh scabbing over so much slower than Logan’s would have. “I cannot abide the thought of sending you back to live with people who treat you like that, but to bring you into the woods would bind you to them in a way that could not be undone. Bind you to me in a way that could not be undone. I doubt you’d want that.” 

“Are you… stupid?” 

Logan jolted at the voice, mocking but almost a whisper for how loud it was. “Remus?” 

The human was squinting up at him, and even those few words sent him into a fit of coughing. Logan hurriedly drew morning dew up from the nearest saplings and pressed the liquid to Remus’s lips. 

“Don’t waste energy,” he chided; Remus flipped him off. “I apologize for… handling you while you were unconscious, but we cannot waste time. You are seriously ill, and need treatment. Do you have anyone who can provide it? Cost is no obstacle.” 

Remus snorted audibly, and opened his mouth for a heartbeat before his face pinched in with resulting pain. He shook his head with an eye roll. Logan tried not to feel frustration at his friend’s lackadaisical attitude towards his own health, and failed.

“This is not a joke, Remus! If you don’t get immediate treatment, your only options will be making a contract with my forest, or death.” 

Remus held up a finger.

“First option,” he croaked. “Stone for brains.” 

Logan was rendered speechless for a short moment, his fingers curling up around the human. “Wh— Remus, you can’t give up on human treatment so rashly. A contract will change you. You’d be, for lack of a better term, stuck with me until you made a full recovery and paid back the debt at the very least.”

Remus hacked out something that might have been another insult to Logan’s intelligence, and he held up his pointer finger more emphatically. “First option. We’re— ‘m your friend. Not scared of you, big fucking nerd. That’s my final word… maybe liter’lly.” 

And because he was as dramatic as he was vulgar, Remus chose that moment to let his eyes roll back in his head. 

His heartbeat loud in his ears, Logan took a deep breath, pushed all of his concerns and doubts aside, and stepped into the woods. 

-

The years have been hard on this lonely heart If you wanna know the truth There's no more community gardens So I guess I'll have to settle for you

-

“I don’t get it,” Remus mentioned one afternoon, watching Logan finish the last touches of a seal for a dryad’s lightning wound. “If you didn’t know I was a cursebearer, and you didn’t even end up caring I was a cursebearer anyway, why didn’t you ever let me near you when we hung out?”

Logan pressed the seal into the tree and glanced over at him, sighing with exasperation upon seeing him picking at the turmeric leaves ringed around his healing wrists. At least he couldn’t reach the ones working to repair his lungs.

“You’ll agitate your wounds if you do that,” he chided, reaching over to lift him from the mossy, oversized log he sat on. As always, he hesitated a moment before making contact, and as always, Remus leaned up in advance to greet him, as though being carried in the palm of a giant was not only normal, but also the only form of transportation he’d ever accept. 

“Ooh, sounds fun.” Remus grinned mischievously but did indeed stop uprooting the plants embedded in his skin. He laid himself out flat on his back instead, an arm and a leg dangling over the edges of Logan’s curled hand, uncaring of the cool forest air rushing past him as Logan walked. “You still haven’t answered my question, though.”  

“I’m not sure I fully understand it. You’re asking why I didn’t physically interact with you, before, but I believe the answer is obvious.” Logan adjusted his woven sleeve cuff absently. “I simply… found your company enjoyable and didn’t wish to scare you off, I suppose.”

He waited for the typical laughter that came whenever he implied that maybe Remus should be wary around him, since he was by most human definitions, a literal giant monster. It didn’t come. 

Instead, Remus’s face was scrunched up in thought. “So… it was because you wanted to keep being friends. And not because you thought I was gross, or repellant, or better off as juicy blood mulch, or--”

“If anyone wants to mulch you, Remus,” Logan interrupted neatly, “they will have to go through me first.”

“...Not if I get to them first,” Remus responded, a slow grin building on his face. “Since we’re friends and all.” 

“That completely counteracts the point of my protection, but yes,” Logan said, a small smile of his own finding its way onto his face, “we certainly are.” 

[gingerpeachtae]

Concentric [23]

masterlist

Words: 25.4k 🤯💀

Genres: fantasy!AU, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, eventual smut

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence and death

Summary: You had been ready for the end of the semester. You had been ready to spend time away from your best friend, Jimin, and finally move on from the feelings you harbored. Yet, after your friend was forced to reveal a secret, you found yourself in a new world that was chock full of magic, war, and wonder. So, here you were, basically thrown into your own fantasy novel, with your best friend on one side, and six male warriors on the other.

A/N: my braincell is ready for rest oof… PLS ENGOY YOUR EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER EVERYONE 💙

Holding his arms up in front of his face, Jimin flinched as the thorny vines of the thicket scratched at his wrists while he continued sprinting forward. The stinging pain lasted for only a moment as the half-Saeni sucked more air into his lungs and forced his legs to propel his body faster through the rugged, dense forest. The six other Saeni were moving just as quickly and were still protectively surrounding him as they ran. Through the bird calls, bug chirps, and shaking leaves, every single one of them could hear the sound of large paws hitting the earth gradually coming closer. The sounds of deep growls becoming louder.

At the front of the group, Ipsa leapt over a large tree root which caused her golden hair to flash in the sunlight that was peeking through the treetops.

As Geodin followed and easily jumped over the same root, he let out a low groan before muttering in an irritated tone, “Why in Exia’s name are we being hunted by wolves?”

“Just keep moving!” Mingi sternly ordered to the short male without even looking back.

Jimin ran beneath the bright green leaves that caused his pupils to dilate and expand rapidly from the constant changes in light, and as he passed by a skinny maple tree Illai spoke in his mind to inform him that they needed to veer more to the right. After grunting lightly in acknowledgement and pushing his apricot hair out of his eyes, the half-Saeni voiced her direction to the group between his heavy breaths and the Saeni promptly adjusted.

The seven pressed on, leaves and thin branches whipping across their faces and mud splattering against their shins. Mingi effortlessly vaulted over a fallen tree trunk that was almost parallel to the ground but not quite fully collapsed. Jimin, on the other hand, slid beneath it, his head barely missing the rough bark, before popping up to his feet on the opposite side and resuming his fast pace. Dirt and dead leaves clung to his thigh and side but he didn’t bother swatting any of it off as sweat trailed down his face and his heart pounded in his chest. He could hear the wolves grow even closer. Could almost feel their presence on the group’s heels even though the canines had yet to show themselves.

The terrain abruptly began to decline, causing all the Saeni to slow down ever so slightly and turn their bodies to the side to prevent themselves from losing balance. As they descended quickly but cautiously, Jimin heard a stumble behind him and Koliifa cursed as a rock came loose under his weight and his footing faltered for a brief second.

“Careful,” his sister hissed and helped steady the male.

Then, out of his peripheral, Jimin saw Stem furrow his brow and look out to the left while he skirted around a sapling.

After a couple of seconds, the archer hummed and returned his gaze forward. “I think one of the wolves broke off to our left.”

“Leaving?” Mingi called back in question while tilting his head that way and narrowing his hazel eyes.

“No, it’s moving lateral to us now. I think it doesn’t want us going that way.”

Ipsa frowned at Stem’s comment, but didn’t say anything as the group finally reached the bottom of the hill. The degradation levelled out and the Saeni were deposited into a small, bubbling stream that was surrounded by a stretch of flat land with plentiful but spread out trees.

Flinching as the stream’s cold water sloshed onto his leg while he and the others crossed it, Jimin wanted to stop and marvel at how serene and calm the area was but he knew there wasn’t time for that. Maybe later, though… if he survived.

Squinting through a ray of sunlight, the golden-haired female whispered to herself then sharply inhaled and glanced at the Saeni behind her. “For Exia’s sake, they’re herding us.”

None of the Saeni’s movements wavered in wake of the comment but Koliifa murmured another curse and Geodin grumbled in aggravated disbelief while everyone else was stunned into silence.

But it made sense. Realistically, the wolves should have caught up to them by now but they hadn’t or, as it now appeared, purposefully wouldn’t. They were keeping their distance but still making their presence known. Making sure the group went in a certain direction. The seven hadn’t realized it until now since it was the same direction they were wanting to go in, but that made Jimin wonder…

“Are they random wolves or-?”

“Or are they somehow a draikensu’s pet?” Opikal finished the thought in a dry tone. “I was thinking the same thing. Honestly, the timing seems too convenient for it to not be connected.”

“But if they’re with the draikensu then herding us-”

“Means they’re most likely moving us toward a trap.”

The Saeni fell silent again, considering what to do. They continued to move forward; they didn’t have the luxury of stopping… but with every step they took the idea that they may be moving closer to an attack loomed over their heads. The possibility weighed heavily on the group, but they also knew there was nothing to be done besides steeling themselves and being ready.

However, after a few moments, the siblings bringing up the rear exchanged looks, communicating without words, and nodded to one another before slowing down.

“Go on ahead,” Opikal said as she and her brother came to a complete stop beside an old oak tree, “we’ll take care of the wolves.”

The rest of the group looked back in shock at the determined siblings who were standing underneath the oak’s swaying leaves. Opikal’s dark eyes were serious as she drew her sword from its sheath at her hip while Koliifa was unwinding his chain whip with a confident smile.

Ipsa ran backwards as she regarded them with uncertainty swimming in her eyes. “Are you sure?”

Koliifa shrugged indifferently. “Yeah. It’ll be fun, right sis?” Then he shifted his grin to his sister, who only rolled her ebony eyes.

After sighing at her cheerful brother, Opikal gestured for the group to move on. “Just hurry up and go. We’ll take care of it.”

Jimin gaped at the duo, not wanting to leave them behind but knowing there was no time to argue or come up with an alternative. The apricot head’s mind swam with conflict as he watched the siblings turn their backs on everyone and ready their weapons.

“Come on.” Mingi’s deep voice seemed to reverberate through the landscape with his command. “Let’s go.”

Stem placed a firm hand on Jimin’s shoulder and gave him a look of understanding but still lightly shoved the half-Saeni forward as they all began to run at full speed again, leaving the siblings behind.

Reluctantly, Jimin returned to his previous pace and Mingi told everyone to be on guard. Stem stayed behind Jimin, taking over the rear position in place of the siblings while Ipsa dropped back to cover Jimin’s left. After a minute or so, the Saeni could no longer hear the wolf paws but instead a series of loud growls, barks, and whines rose up behind them. Doing their best to ignore the noises and focus on what lay ahead of them, the group of five followed the small creek while being mindful of the wet rocks on the bank.

Do not follow the bend in the stream. You must continue straight. The sweet voice of the mother goddess seeped into Jimin’s mind again. You’re getting close. Very close. Keep moving. Hurry!

Jimin instantly relayed the information to the group and Geodin gave an affirmative grunt in response. They then crossed the creek once more and went back into the shade of the thick woods.

It wasn’t long before a chilling scream resounded into the air and echoed off the trees. It was the type of scream that ran a shiver down a person’s spine and raised the hair on their arms. Filled with pain and desperation. It didn’t last long, though, and within a couple of seconds the sound cut off.

Gritting his teeth and clenching his hands into tight fists, Jimin felt the urge to do something swell inside him. He just didn’t know what he could do. The apricot head went to peek over his shoulder, back to where they had left Opikal and Koliifa, but Stem moved into his line of sight and shook his head.

“Don’t look back,” the archer said in a grave tone then he blinked a few times and looked up at the sun shining through the trees before steadying his gaze on Jimin once more. “They made their choice. We can’t do anything for them now.”

Jimin opened his mouth but snapped it closed and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before returning his attention to what was ahead of him knowing Stem was right.

The shade cast by the leaves suddenly felt too cold as the cruel reality of the situation settled over the half-Saeni. He had heard the scream, but had no way of knowing if Opikal and Koliifa were still alive or not. The suffocating realization tightened his throat because the same went for you and his brothers. The group had been able to hear the fighting for a while… what if one of those dying screams had been a member of his kiela? He knew how strong everyone was, including you, but… but what if…

All of the sudden, Jimin was yanked out of his upsetting thoughts when Mingi held up his fist. At the appearance of the signal, Jimin and the others slowed down and began to creep forward. Eyes scanning and ears alert. A slight rustle came from up ahead. A noise so minor and indiscrete yet so loud at the same time. The Saeni’s heads whipped in the direction of the sound while Mingi shifted to place himself fully in front of Jimin.

Then… the flash of sunlight glinting off metal… and a sickening thump.

Jimin blinked in horror as an arrow skewered itself through soft flesh of Geodin’s neck. The short male tried to gasp and stumbled while Mingi immediately turned to grab Jimin and tug him behind a large tree. The other Saeni followed suit and found cover as Geodin dropped to his knees, blood leaking out around the arrow and onto his chest. Deep crimson also trailed out of his mouth and stained his lips and chin. The world seemed to pause and hold its breath…

Then another arrow embedded itself into Geodin’s chest. The impact forcing the male to fall to his back. His chest shakily rose and fell… once… twice… and then he stopped moving altogether.

Your thighs and calves burned as you finally reached the peak of the steep incline. Slowing to a stop, you pushed your sweaty hair out of your face then waved your hand around to shoo away the bugs buzzing by your ear as you caught your breath. While gulping in air, you turned in a half-circle to try to see what was around you but all there was was an endless expanse of green and brown. You had no idea where you were or if you were even close to Jimin. It’s not like you had directions or landmarks to help you find your way. All you could really do was keep the battlefield either at your back or on your left shoulder as you ran through the forest in search of your best friend.

The basic plan was to go northwest toward the center of the enemy’s forces to where the rift supposedly was. Unfortunately, you didn’t have the privilege of mental GPS guidance like your dear best friend. Plus, you didn’t even know where the center of the draikensu’s forces were; you only had a generic idea so you were truly just winging it.

Doesn’t matter. I’m gonna find you Slim Jim. 

Swiveling back to face the direction you had been running in, you cracked your neck and back then inhaled deeply. Although you were a decent distance from the field by now, you swear you could still detect a hint of iron and death in the air. Maybe it was because you could still hear faint screams filtering through the trees, or maybe the smell clung to you, or maybe you were simply imagining the putrid scent because you were so on edge.

With how much adrenaline was pumping through your veins at the moment you wondered if you would ever be able to calm down again after this whole ordeal was over.

If you were even still breathing by then.

You were worried for yourself, for Jimin, for Jungkook and Tae and all the other members of the kiela who had become family to you. Mingi too. But you were also concerned about the draikensu. You knew majority of them were at the field but you didn’t know if all of them were and the last thing you needed was to run into a group of the fuckers. If what that one back at the cliff said was true – the key will die while you pathetically fight – then you probably didn’t have a lot of time to waste so you didn’t want to worry about your human ass sneaking around quietly or fighting any skirmishes on your way. Thankfully, you hadn’t seen anyone since you left the cliff but that didn’t mean you were about to let your guard up.

Doing a quick examine of the trees, you tried to ignore the distant screams as you focused your hearing…

Nothing.

No signs of draikensu… or Jimin.

You blew out a raspberry and let your eyes wander until they rested on a large rock that you started to approach coyly. “You wouldn’t happen to be a rock I can ride for miles like the pioneers used to… would you?”

No response, unsurprisingly.

With a bittersweet huff, you clutched your bow tighter and stepped up and over the rock before beginning to move onward once more. Lowering your head to avoid being whacked in the face by a large branch, you scampered over a collection of roots popping out of earth like lacework. Suddenly, a twig snapped and the shrubs rustled violently to your right and your eyes widened in alarm as you instinctively grabbed an arrow from your quiver while turning toward the sound. Your hear beat wildly as you drew back and squinted into the trees but all you saw was a small, russet-colored creature scuttling through the low greenery.

Just a damn animal. Your arms relaxed and you breathed a bit easier as you watched the creature disappear.

Returning the arrow to your quiver, you shook out your hand to relieve some leftover tension then got ready to start running again. Though as you shifted your weight to do so, a pained scream pierced your ears. Freezing, your breath caught in your throat but the shriek stopped just as quickly as it had come.

“The fuck…?” You murmured to yourself while looking around warily.

There’s no way that came from the field… it was way too loud to have come from the field.

While the birds resumed their singing, you drifted your gaze more west and narrowed your eyes. Of course, there was no way to be sure but you had a hunch the scream came from over there. Your insides yelled at you that it did and before you knew it your feet were moving on their own accord.

Rolling onto his back, Namjoon could almost feel the dew-and-blood-slicked grass soak into his armor and clothes. Ignoring the unpleasant sensation, the yellow-eyed male grit his teeth and used both hands to lift his heavy weapon over his face in order to block the serrated edge of the short sword being swung at him. The draikensu’s blade ricocheted off the hammer’s shaft with a shrill ring and a handful of sparks. Baring his teeth at the recoil that traveled up his arms from the attack, Namjoon shifted his weight to attempt to kick his opponent’s legs out from underneath him but a yelling figure with dark hair slammed into the draikensu without warning.

Jin threw his arms around the male going after his leader and tackled him to the ground with a defiant shout. The force of the surprise body slam caused the draikensu to involuntarily drop his sword and the eldest member of the kiela didn’t give the male any time to recover. Jin pulled his sword hand back then rammed the hilt of the weapon into the male’s jaw, making his head snap back against the earth. The draikensu growled and spat out a mouthful of crimson spit before grabbing onto Jin’s forearm and throwing his weight upward and to the side. As Jin was thrown aside, he clutched at the draikensu’s armor and pulled the male along with him.

The two males twisted and grappled in the torn-up grass. Their limbs tangled and grasped at one another while they tried to find an advantage and pin the other down, but the close proximity made Jin struggle. It restricted him from using the blade of his longsword. He simply didn’t have the space or time to use the gore-covered weapon.

While dodging the draikensu’s elbow, Jin tried to spot something he could impale the male on or if Namjoon was able to give him a helping hand… or better yet, a swing of his hammer. Seeing neither, the raven-haired Saeni could only think of one way to finish the fight. Jin released another powerful yell and brought his arm across the draikensu’s chest, gripping the male’s shoulder in his hand to anchor himself as he punched the male’s side with the hand tightly gripping his sword hilt. The draikensu gasped and Jin took that split-second to flip his opponent to his back so he could kneel over the male’s waist. After delivering another blow to the male’s torso to incapacitate his movements, the raven-haired Saeni adjusted the hold on his sword and sliced up from the draikensu’s belly in one fluid but deadly arc. Crimson spattered onto the grass and dripped off the tip of Jin’s sword as the draikensu swiftly began to bleed out while his eyes rolled back into his head.

With a pant, Jin went to stand but the air against the side of his face abruptly stirred and caused him to turn and raise his weapon. A sword screeched against the edge of his own blade. Jin’s fast reaction stopped the weapon from reaching his neck as was the draikensu’s intention, but the parry didn’t manage to leave him completely unscathed. The enemy’s sword shallowly slashed into his cheek and arm, leaving behind thin lines of red, and the attacked made the Saeni lose his balance. Jin stumbled and teetered to the side, falling onto his hip and forearm. He blinked up at the draikensu as he felt his warm blood well up from the cuts, and the sight of scarlet beginning to trail down his face made the draikensu’s eyes sparkle and lips twitch gleefully.

Jin heard a familiar voice call out to him desperately.

“Hyung!”

Looking past the male hovering over him, Jin saw Namjoon running over. His brown hair was matted, jaw clenched, and eyes narrowed menacingly. Not even a second later, when he was close enough, Namjoon reached out and firmly grabbed the draikensu’s collar before yanking the male backwards harshly. While the draikensu staggered and tumbled to the ground, Namjoon grunted and raised the bulky head of his weapon to the sky. Then he smashed it down onto the chest of the fallen draikensu.

Namjoon breathed heavily and lifted his hammer from the crater he had created in the male’s armor before wiping the back of his hand across his forehead then offering the hand out to his brother.

“You good?” The leader inquired while roaming his eyes over Jin’s body to check for injuries.

Taking Namjoon’s hand in his, Jin allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

After nodding, Namjoon shifted his gaze to take in the field and the mass of crumpled bodies that now littered it. With sad eyes, he observed the dead, the wounded and barely alive, and those still fighting through their exhaustion.

Shaking his head, he whispered, “How long will this go on…?”

Jin placed a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder before saying they should try to regroup with the others. The elder tilted his chin toward a collection of flaring lights over by one of the trees scattered throughout the field and Namjoon could just make out the color of mint-blue from the mess.

The leader of the kiela went to agree but as he turned his head back to his brother, he saw movement in his peripherals. Eyes expanding in alarm as he registered two daggers rotating through the air toward them, Namjoon hastily pushed Jin out of the way.

Falling to his ass, the raven-haired Saeni looked up at the other male in confusion. “Joon? What th-OH MY GODDESS!”

Jin was gawking at Namjoon’s thigh and the yellow-eyed Saeni grimaced as he looked down and observed the blade now buried hilt deep in his flesh. Namjoon’s hand trembled as he reached down to lightly touch his fingertip against the hilt and he hissed sharply through his teeth at how the contact slightly disturbed the blade. Blood began to slowly course down Namjoon’s thigh and Jin forced himself to get over his shock and get back to his feet to scan the area.

“Where did it come from!?” Jin whispered frantically and darted his eyes around but when Namjoon only whimpered in response he swiveled his dark eyes to see that Namjoon now had his hand fully wrapped around the hilt. “DON’T TAKE IT OUT!”

“Aish, I know. It just fucking hurts.”

Jin snorted at his leader’s pouting response. “Well, no shit.”

Namjoon barked out a rough laugh but it was fast to fade into another pained moan. While he moved his hand to hold the muscle of his thigh right above the dagger, Jin felt a lump lodge in his throat as he took in his younger brother’s state.

“You… You really shouldn’t have pushed me. You should have gotten yourself out of the way.”

Setting the head of his hammer on the ground, Namjoon rested majority of his weight on the weapon while waving his now bloody hand dismissively and showcasing a tiny, dimpled smile.

“…Hey.” A stranger’s voice suddenly came from beside them both.

With a gasp, Jin pivoted and raised his sword but an array of emerald magic held his swing at bay. Underneath the glittering green was a muscular, emerald-haired female Saeni with both eyebrows raised at the eldest of the kiela. Seeing she wasn’t a threat, Jin eased up and apologized as the emerald light vanished. The magic user chuckled and just gave Jin another look then turned her gaze to the dagger sticking out of Namjoon’s thigh.

“Let me see that.” She crouched down so the damage was at eye level then glanced behind her shoulder at Jin. “You, keep any draikensu off us while I deal with this.”

Jin drew in a breath at her words, feeling the lump in his throat lessen knowing she was going to help his brother. Repositioning himself, he stood guard and protectively watched over them as the magic user put her strong hand around the dagger’s hilt, which made Namjoon curse in a deep voice.

The yellow-eyed male looked down at the female and lightly touched her wrist. “Don’t… save your energy. Don’t waste it on me.”

“Shut up and let me do this.”

Jin roared as a draikensu approached the trio and he took two steps to the side then powerfully slashed his sword across their chest before plunging it through their torso.

“I’m only doing enough to ensure you won’t die after I take out this little guy.” The female gestured to the dagger with her chin.

“Little?”

The magic user just stared up at Namjoon silently through her emerald hair until he swallowed nervously and nodded.

“A-Alright…”

“This is going to hurt,” she said while gripping the hilt more firmly. “On three. One… two… three!”

While bursts of magenta light came from several yards away as another Saeni magic user battled the draikensu with yellow magic, Yoongi crooked his fingers while diving to the side and narrowly avoided a crescent of amethyst magic surging toward him. Rolling to a stop near the base of a tree, his own magic shot out of the ground at his opponent’s feet. The mint-blue tendrils seized the female’s amethyst-glowing hands and began to crawl up her wrists and arms, preventing her from moving. At the same time, Hobi leapt toward the draikensu with a blade brandished in each hand. As he angled his daggers, the silvery-whiteness of his hair shimmered in the sun where it was still visible beneath the streaks of red and brown that painted his body. Aiming one blade just above the female’s collarbone and the other under her ribcage, the kiela’s spy closed in on his target but the female magic user contorted her face into a snarl and lifted one of her legs to plant her foot directly into Hobi’s sternum.

Yoongi felt his stomach drop as he watched Hobi land hard on his back while the female turned her attention to the mint-colored light curling around her arms. Claws of amethyst erupted out of her hands and pierced through Yoongi’s magic but the Saeni didn’t reinforce his bonds. He couldn’t bring himself to look away from his partner who had yet to get back up to his feet. The female draikensu began to violently strip off the mint-blue tendrils coiling up her limbs with her magic as Hobi braced himself on his elbows and let out a low moan of pain.

Petal pink eyes snapped wide open at the sound, and Yoongi thrust his hands forward to cocoon his magic around the spy before dragged him backwards until he too was underneath the tree. The mint-haired Saeni held out a hand and tried to keep the distress out of his voice as he asked if the other male was okay.

Hobi smiled gratefully while taking Yoongi’s hand, but as he was being helped up, the white-haired Saeni wrapped his free arm around his middle and grimaced. “Fucking Exia she can kick hard. I think she might’ve cracked a rib.”

Cursing under his breath, Yoongi immediately dropped his eyes to Hobi’s torso in concern but Hobi let out a breathy chuckle and placed his palm against the magic user’s cheek to gently tilt his face back up. “I’ll be fine hyung. You can fix me up and make me feel better later.”

The tips of the Yoongi’s ears began to burn as he stared into Hobi’s light brown eyes, the warmth of the male’s touch both scalding and soothing. Gaping slightly, the mint-haired Saeni felt as if the rest of the world blurred away as he gazed into those eyes. The sounds of fighting and pain and rage muted as if they were placed underwater and all he could hear instead was his frantic pulse and the echoes of Hobi’s voice. He felt as though he could live in that moment for the rest of eternity. A calming comfort in the middle of chaotic and deadly storm.

And then the moment was shattered as the female magic user screamed in impatience while ripping away the last of the mint tendrils from her arms. Both Hobi and Yoongi snapped their heads over to the angered female whose dark expression seemed to match the magic angrily writhing around her hands.

“Well,” Yoongi commented as he turned to face the draikensu with an annoyed quirk of his brow but he quickly replaced it with a lazy smirk, “someone took quite a while to get out of my magic. It wasn’t even that strong.”

“Goddess, sometimes I forget you’re just as bad as Kook with taunting people,” Hobi murmured and shook his head as the female’s gaze turned even more murderous.

Peering to the side and cracking his knuckles, Yoongi sent Hobi a sly grin. “Who do you think the sprout learned it all from?”

Before the kiela’s spy could come up with a retort, both males caught a glimmer of amethyst out of the corner of their eyes and they lunged in opposite directions as a harsh curve of magic flew at them. The magic hit the tree, gouging into the trunk and slicing into two of the thicker branches. The tree limbs creaked and groaned for a second before they fractured with a splitting crack and fell toward the earth, forcing Hobi to dive out of the way again as they hit the ground. Safely coming to his knees, Hobi reached behind his back to take out a medium-sized dagger while peeking at Yoongi who nodded and allowed his mint-blue magic to flare even brighter as he raised his hands. As the two males readied themselves to rush the female, an ear-splitting screech made both them and the draikensu halt their movements and look to the side.

The Saeni with magenta magic had the other draikensu magic user speared to the ground. The yellow magic enveloping the draikensu’s hands was growing dimmer and dimmer as she lay face down in the destroyed grass, a glittering magenta bolt piercing her body directly between her shoulder blades. The draikensu took a final, unsteady inhale then sagged limply while the last of her magic faded into nothing. Meanwhile, the Saeni magic user stumbled back a step but her legs gave out and she collapsed to her knees with a sobbing gasp. The magenta bolt vanished from the draikensu’s back, leaving an open, gaping hole, and the Saeni seemed to struggle to breath as she cradled her shaking hands close to her chest.

Yoongi and Hobi returned their gaze to the amethyst magic user and were alarmed as they saw her sneer and lift one of her glowing hands toward the weakened Saeni.

“Shit. Look out!” Yoongi yelled as Hobi desperately threw his dagger at the draikensu.

The Saeni looked up from her tremoring hands right as the draikensu spun out of the way of Hobi’s blade and simultaneously sent a sickle of magic from her hand. As the amethyst magic carved through the air, Yoongi flicked a line of his own magic out in a hasty attempt to latch onto the Saeni’s wrist and tug her out of the way… but it was too late. The female Saeni just quietly stared at the approaching wave of amethyst magic with hollow eyes until it cut through her neck and chest. Hobi swore, his voice holding regret and horror, and the two males watched as the Saeni’s now headless body slumped to the earth while her head rolled and came to a rest beside the body of the draikensu she had killed only moments earlier.

As you jumped down into a stream, cold water splashed against your ankles when the stone you landed on lurched to the side. After throwing your arms out to regain your balance, you crossed the water and saw you were now in a meadow-like area. Trees still dotted the earth but majority of the plants were grasses and ferns that ruffled in the breeze. It was beautiful and peaceful and allowed you to see your surroundings more easily… but you were also aware that it made you more visible and exposed. With that lovely thought in mind you kept moving beneath the sun and shade, although you couldn’t keep your eyes from flitting around more often to check your surroundings.

You still had no idea where you were, even more so now since the field was out of earshot. To put it simply, you were pretty much just going off instinct and gut feelings now. Right now, your gut was telling you to turn more to the east. There was no obvious reason as to why, maybe you felt as if you had gone too far west or perhaps it was some other subconscious sixth sense, but nonetheless you still listened to the feeling and adjusted your course. With aching legs and ragged breaths, you delved deeper into the meadow. Ferns gently grazed against your legs and the occasional bramble bush scraped your skin and clung to your clothes.

After a few minutes, the fresh, earthy scent of the meadow began to be overpowered by the distinct odor of blood and fresh death. Skidding to a top as the smell hit your nose, you looked around but saw and heard nothing out of the ordinary. But you knew that smell, as abhorrent as that realization was. Crinkling your nose, you took a tentative step forward… then another and another and another as you followed the disgusting smell to the source. You tried to control your breathing but you found yourself inhaling faster and faster as your anxiety grew along with the stench. Nervous of what you would find. Scared it would be a body with apricot hair.

Tiptoeing around a gnarly old oak tree, your breath hitched as you saw a lump of something laying in the ferns beside a log. Swallowing down your nerves as best you could, you grabbed an arrow and loosely notched it before slowly approaching the form. Tracing your index finger lightly over the arrow’s soft feather fletching for comfort, you neared and saw there was blood pooled on the earth beneath the thing. Blood also coated the stems and leaves of the plants beside it, the red contrasting so vividly to the bright green. The wind picked up and blew against your face, and you resisted the urge to cover your nose as you inched even closer. Then you paused as you saw patches of fur. Perplexed, you titled your head and stood still for a couple moments before moving around the vegetation so it was in full view.

Tail, large paws, and sharp teeth. It was a dead wolf. And it was covered in hundreds of gashes.

Taking short breaths, you squatted before the creature and looked over its maimed body. You had no idea what would create those kinds of wounds, and you didn’t want to stick around and find out. Furthermore, it wasn’t a Saeni or draikensu so there was no reason to hang around. It was time to get moving again. As you turned to leave, you glanced over to the log resting in the foliage a few yards away.

It’s shaped weirdly… must be pretty rotten and decomposed. You thought absentmindedly then gasped and did a double take as you felt your heart stop for a second.

What you had thought was a log wasn’t that at all… it was a person.

But they were no longer alive.

Biting your lip, you crept around the wolf and advanced toward the body. It was completely mutilated. Entrails spilled out from their stomach, deep gouges in their flesh, and torn out chunks of meat. The sight made you grimace and you had to look away for a moment.

After counting to three in your mind, you forced yourself to turn back to the body. Bringing your eyes to their head, some of the tension evaporated from your body and you squeezed your eyes in relief at how their hair was a baby-powder blue. You didn’t know them. You had no idea who they were or if they had been an ally or an enemy. Their body and armor were too shredded and torn apart to tell. Expelling a puff of air, you shifted your gaze to their red-stained hand that rested beside their head. In their palm was a metallic black rod that was connected to a series of smaller rods that were linked together by rings. The object was mostly piled in a heap but you could see the chain ended in a sharp dart.

Is that a whip?

You blinked at the weapon then looked back at the wolf.

Did they kill each other? Your brows furrowed. But why…?

Was this connected to Uzjuk or did you just happen to stumble upon a random, dead Saeni? You could have, but a normal Saeni wouldn’t be wearing armor or carrying around a weapon like that. Not unless they were BTS Saeni or a draikensu. The entire scene was utterly confusing and when you looked up from the wolf corpse your eyes widened yet again as you made out another lump up ahead in the ferns.

Brushing past some briars, you made your way over and noted it was another dead wolf draped over a dead female. A sword was buried deep into the stomach of the animal while its teeth rested against the female’s shoulder. Through the mess of fur, muscle, and sinew, you could see where its teeth had ripped her throat out.

Fucking hell… what happened here?

Scrunching your face at the sight, you peered at the female and wondered if some of her armor was intact beneath the wolf. If it was, you would be able to see if it matched the armor of the palace troops and thus know which side she, and likely the other Saeni, belonged to. Just as you went to kneel down, a series of loud and aggressive, but distant, barks resounded into the air which caused your head to whip up.

You had never heard a wolf’s bark before save what growls and howling were in movies, and although it sounded quite similar to a dog, you would bet your entire Spongebob Squarepants DVD collection that those had been wolf barks. They had to be.

As the sounds faded, you squinted through the trees then glanced up at the sun’s position. The barks had come from the north and a little bit to the east. You breathed in sharply through your nose at the realization, which you immediately regretted, then quickly dropped to the ground and set your bow aside before leaning over to pluck two big leaves off a nearby plant. Using them to cover your palms, you then pushed against the heavy body of the wolf. Once the canine had mostly slipped off the female’s body, you stared at her armor for a few seconds before snatching up your bow, standing up, and taking off in the direction of the barks with the image of the Saeni’s palace armor seared into your mind.

Dashing through the meadow, it wasn’t long before the stream popped back into view. It trickled and bubbled beside you as you ran alongside its bank. You didn’t know if those dead Saeni had been with Jimin but the female had the same armor as the palace troops so it was at least something for you to go off of. And your gut was telling you they had been with Jimin. Why else would they be this far from the field unless they had been heading to the rift?

I don’t know if Mingi and Jimin are alone or with others since I left before they probably finalized those plans, but wouldn’t it make more sense if they had brought a small group of Saeni with them?

You were pulled from your thoughts when another threatening bark followed by a whine echoed through the trees, the sudden sound startling you and making you trip over a rock. Cursing as your weight went forward, you stumbled a few steps but luckily didn’t fall. Continuing to move, you resented the damn wolf for almost causing you to eat dirt, but you were also glad it barked again because it confirmed you were still going in the right direction.

After a minute, the stream started to curve but since the bark had come from straight ahead you plunged into the cool water once more before reentering the dense forest. You ran and ran and ran, occasionally pounding your fist against your thighs to silently order them to keep working and moving. Your entire body hurt and ached but you weren’t going to stop.

I won’t stop trying to find you Slim Jim…

Gulping air into your burning lungs, you tried to maintain your breathing cadence but it was hastily slipping away from you. Knowing you needed to get it under control again if you wanted to keep pressing on, you reluctantly eased your pace a little to catch your breath. Your chest heaved but you slowly lost the feeling of being a fish out of water trying to get oxygen. Hitting your thigh with your fist again, you went to increase your speed when the wind let up and that too familiar scent of iron began to fill your nose once more. Gasping slightly at the smell, your shaking legs slowed down even more as you turned to follow it. Heart thumping crazily, you reached over your shoulder to retrieve an arrow while you crept as silently as you could.

You heard nothing beyond the usual buzzing and clicking of the forest, but the repulsive smell only grew stronger as you warily moved through the shrubs toward the source.

You ducked beneath a branch, hopped over an overturned tree, then, after squeezing through some bushes holding some kind of pink berry, you saw them.

The first body your eyes landed on was a male laying on the ground with one arrow in his chest and another through his neck. He had on palace armor. Your gaze then shifted onto two more bodies; one also impaled by arrows while the other had a bloody hole in their abdomen. Their armor was different. Darker and less intricate. Draikensu. Surveying the scene with shocked eyes, you counted a total of ten draikensu corpses. All dead. There was one more Saeni too, a female with golden hair pinned to a tree via a spear through her ribcage.

As you studied the carnage, a ragged, weak exhale came from behind you, causing you to whirl around instantly.

A male was sitting on the ground with his back against the base of a tree and one leg stretched out before him… but what really caught your attention was the arm drawing back a bow and the arrow levelled right at you. Astonished, you were fast to tug on your own bowstring and aimed back.

How did I not see him?

It was a standoff for one… two… three heartbeats then his arms began to shake and he seemed to involuntarily drop the bow with a self-deprecating laugh. The male let his arms fall to his sides and he tilted his head back against the tree bark.

Looking at you with hazy, hooded eyes, he murmured, “Just go ahead and… get on with it.”

Your eyes bugged out as you realized he was giving you full access to his chest for a kill shot. A split-second later you registered he was wearing bloodied palace armor, which meant he wasn’t your enemy… though with how unfocused his own eyes were, you considered he might think you were a draikensu.

“What? No, I’m…” You lowered your bow and stared at him. “I’m not draikensu. I’m not even a Saeni actually.”

Holding your hands up in peace while moving toward the male, you saw the leg he had stretched out was coated in deep red and there was a strip of blood-soaked cloth tightly knotted above a severe cut on his thigh that went down to the bone.

Lolling his head to squint at you, he took in your entire appearance from head to toe before resting on your face. “Your ears. You… You’re human. You’re his friend…”

“Wait!” You hastily crouched beside him, being careful not to touch him and disturb his leg. “Jimin, er, Chim!? You know him!?”

The male hummed in confirmation. “Five of us joined him and… and that guard, Mingi, on the mission to the… rift, but… we ran into trouble as you can... see…” He gestured to the bodies with heavy movements as you felt dread surge within you.

Taking a deep breath to try to stay calm, you asked him what happened.

“First… it was the wolves.”

The two Saeni from the meadow flashed behind your eyes and you stiffened but remained silent so he could continue.

“Then… Then they attacked us out of nowhere. We, the… the three of us, stayed behind so Mingi could get Jimin away and… to the rift.”

You covered your mouth with your hand.

“We knew that meant death for the three of us… but we also knew he needed to get to the rift or else… or else-fuck.” His voice choked up and you lightly placed your hand on his shoulder. “I guess you know what will happen if he doesn’t, yeah?”

Nodding, you whispered a tiny ‘yeah’ while you felt his body shiver underneath your hand. You glanced down at his thigh, noting how his femoral artery was most likely cut. If Saeni had those. You couldn’t imagine how much blood he’d lost.

“But just in case someone came… someone on our side… like you… I wanted… wanted to… stay awake to let you know they’re still out there. They got away. They went… that way.” He sluggishly pointed in the direction then shifted it slightly. “But we were heading that way.”

Turning your head to see, you had to admit that part of you wanted to immediately spring to your feet and take off looking for your best friend again. Especially now that you know he had to be close by. But… how could you just leave this male when he was hurt like this?

As if he could sense the conflict swarming inside your heart, the male turned his bleary eyes toward you and quietly said, “Go. Go help them.”

“But you-”

He shook his head slightly and moved his gaze to the treetops swaying high above him. “What’s your name?”

“Y-Y/N.”

“Can you do me a favor, Y/N?” His lips twitched in to a miniscule smile as he continued to look at the leaves and sky. “Can you un… undo the tourniquet and then go… help your friend for me?”

Taken back, you looked down at his thigh again and the scrap of fabric that was barely keeping him alive.

He would die in minutes if I did that.

“But-”

The breathy chuckle he released was so soft you weren’t sure if you had even heard it. “I know, I know. I’ve made peace with it.”

You swallowed hard and peered into his face that truly did seem to accept what would happen. “Okay… I-Okay.”

Logically, you could understand it was the best decision for him. He was in pain, his body slowly numbing as his life force leaked away. The tourniquet was only prolonging that pain and the inevitable. There were no magic users there that could heal him and it would take too long for one to get there.

You closed your eyes for a couple seconds then settled your gaze on his leg and reached for the knot.

He flinched as you touched the fabric. “I knew I was done for as soon as I… I got cut but… I didn’t want to give up… I still wanted to help. This was the… the only way I could think of.”

You nodded your acknowledgement then began untying the knot as gently as possible and blanched at how blood began to pour out of the wound. Sucking in a breath, you had to look away so you brought your gaze back to the male’s face.

As his breaths grew fainter with every passing second, you did your best to smile comfortingly even though he wasn’t looking at you. “I, um, I never asked what your name was…”

“…Stem… You can call me ‘Stem,’” he breathed out weakly.

His hand twitched at his side before jerking across the dirt and twigs as though he was blindly searching for something. You had an idea of what it is. Hoping it was what he was wanting, you silently reached over his lap to grab his bow from where he had dropped it, turned over his searching hand, and placed the weapon in his palm.

“It’s nice to meet you, Stem.” You tenderly took his other hand in both of yours and held on so he knew you were there.

“Th-Thank you… Y/N. Thank you.”

As he rapidly slipped away, you didn’t know what to do or say so you let the forest speak and sing for you. He probably found more comfort in it anyway.

A few moments later, Stem’s chin sank against his chest and you let out a long exhale while carefully removing your hands from his now limp grasp. After folding his hand over the other that held his weapon, you shakily rose to your feet, walked around to Stem’s other side, and took out some of the arrows in his quiver to transfer them to your own.

Stepping back, you gave him one last look and whispered goodbye, then took off running after Jimin and Mingi.

Sliding across the ground and tucking his head down, Tae narrowly avoided the spear being swung at him. Once he cleared the weapon, he then pushed himself up to a crouch.  As the draikensu whirled around and went to attack yet again, Tae reached over his shoulder but tensed as his fingers felt nothing but air. Empty quiver. The draikensu thrust forward with their spear and Tae was forced to somersault backwards to evade the deadly point. As he came to his knees, Tae did a hasty scan of his surroundings and saw a body a few yards away that was riddled with arrows which caused his eyes to light up. The draikensu lunged once more but the Saeni was already moving. The spear stabbed at empty space as Tae came to a stop on his knees beside the body. In the blink of an eye, he ripped out one of the arrows, flinging droplets of blood into the air and onto his already red-covered self. Then he twisted around and fired into the side of the draikensu. They fell to their knees with a hoarse scream, one hand grasping at the arrow shaft, and another Saeni turned at the sound and finished them off with a slash of their blade.

Meanwhile, Tae breathed heavily and turned back to the body next to him then removed the rest of the arrows, tucked them into his quiver, and rose to his feet before looking back over to where he had seen glimpses of Yoongi’s magic a few minutes ago. Sure enough, more flashes of mint-blue appeared near one of the large trees standing in the field. With his destination set, Tae rolled his shoulders then set out.

As he rushed through the field, Tae deftly disposed of any draikensu he encountered with efficient, calculated strikes. His muscles were sore and his body was tired, but he couldn’t afford to let his fatigue affect his movements. Even the tiniest mishap, the smallest amount of laziness in his actions would result in his death. His feather earring was heavy and stiff as he ran, dodged, shot, and slashed. More blood splattered against him, covering the gore that was already dried on his skin and armor, and it wasn’t long before he was retrieving the last arrow from his quiver. Expertly notching it and sending it straight into a female’s chest, Tae quickly followed up the shot by surging forward and slicing the sharp edge of his bow against her exposed neck while she was distracted.

Another corpse to litter the field. Another body to water the earth.

Tae continued moving toward the tree, wanting to get to his brother as soon as possible, and he prayed his other brothers were doing the same as he snatched up stray arrows from the ground and the deceased as he went.

Then out of nowhere, as he was leaning down to pull an arrow out of a corpse’s back, a tingle traveled up Tae’s spine and the Saeni instinctively dove to the side right as an explosion of maroon magic hit where he had just been squatting. The force of the eruption rammed into Tae’s back, throwing him further than he had aimed for, and as the blue-eyed Saeni shook his head in shock and staggered to his feet, he saw a male grinning at him. A quick glance down showed he had maroon light encompassing his hands.

Wiggling his glowing fingers at Tae, the draikensu sneered, “My, my, you’re a fast one, but you still won’t last lo-”

The magic user cut off his own sentence when another Saeni screamed and ran at the draikensu with his single-handed axe raised high in the air and a shield held in front of his body.

“They always think a shield will protect them,” The magic user said in amusement as his grin shifted into something more wicked then he threw both his hands toward the Saeni. “It won’t, though it’s cute you tried.”

Magic formed together in a ball-like shape between his hands before shooting out like a cannon and detonating at the feet of the Saeni in a burst of maroon light… and when the light faded, there was a small crater in the grass and only the upper-half of the male’s body was left intact. Tae didn’t even have the chance to react to the gruesome sight because the draikensu turned to him with a bored sigh and shot another magical cannon ball right at him. The blue-eyed Saeni lunged to the side and grunted as he was caught in the explosion’s shockwave again.

“Ah, so it wasn’t a fluke before. You really are just fast.” The magic user rubbed his hands together. “This will be fun then.”

Then the draikensu released another cannon ball but Tae was already running. Knowing he was at a disadvantage since there was nothing to take cover behind, all Tae could do was not stop. Just keep moving and evading. Slowly work his way closer. The maroon cannon balls never let up, but between the blasts Tae could hear the draikensu growling in frustration as the he abruptly changed directions for the umpteenth time. Sweat trailed down Tae’s face and made his eyes sting but ignored it and his body’s exhaustion as he slid on the ground. A ball of magic sailed over his head while he yanked an arrow out of the ground. He came up to a crouch as he notched it then fired at the draikensu before taking off again. The ball that had been forming in the magic user’s hands vanished as the male had to jump to the side to avoid the projectile.

Breathing heavily, Tae kept going. Grabbing what arrows he could and shooting while constantly changing his speed and direction to avoid the magical attacks. Essentially, he was being an absolute pain in the ass to the draikensu. The magic user roared in annoyance and screamed at him to ‘just stay fucking still,’ making Tae lightly smirk as he gasped for air and disregarded the request.

The mistake Tae was waiting for would be coming soon.

Another thirty seconds passed of Tae circling and backtracking and gradually moving closer as the draikensu released magic nonstop and angrily shouted. The field around them was now filled with holes, and the other draikensu and Saeni fighting close by were giving them a wide berth. They didn’t want to get caught up in the magic user’s destruction.

Tae let loose another arrow that managed to nick the magic user’s arm, which caused the draikensu to scream, “DIE ALREADY!”

And then the male thrust his clawed hands forward and sent a barrage of cannon balls at the Saeni. The bombardment was so bright, the magic user had to shut his eyes and hold his arms over his face. When the light finally began to die down, the draikensu lowered his arms and opened his eyes to find the field right before him utterly destroyed… but there were no body parts scattered in the dirt and clumps of grass. The male’s eyes widened in disbelief right as the blue-eyed Saeni silently took his final step behind the unaware draikensu and swung his bow.

The hazel-eyed Saeni had Jimin’s bicep secured in his grasp as the duo ran through the trees. Closer and closer they neared the rift’s location… but Jimin kept looking over his shoulder.

“Stop looking back,” Mingi quietly but sternly ordered.

The apricot-haired Saeni stared at the guard with a startled expression. “But we just left them.”

Mingi kept his gaze forward, not saying anything in response, but his jaw visibly ticked and he tightened his grip on Jimin’s arm.

“No!” Jimin pulled himself free and came to a stop. “How could we just leave them!? We need to go ba-”

The other Saeni grabbed Jimin’s shoulders and slammed him into the nearest tree trunk, his hazel eyes filled with pain. “I hate it too! I hate it… so much… but they knew the risk when they agreed to this mission. They know what will happen if it doesn’t succeed.” Mingi hung his head and lowered his voice so it was a whisper that could barely be heard over the rustling leaves. “Don’t throw away their valor by going back and getting killed. Please.”

“Mingi…” Jimin blinked in shock at the rawness of the other male’s voice.

“Please.”

“Okay,” the half-Saeni agreed softly and Mingi released him then stepped back.

Running a hand through his sweaty apricot locks, Jimin murmured an apology in a small voice. The other Saeni nodded and said they should get moving again. The duo resumed their previous pace, hastily making their way under the shade and patches of sunlight. Eventually, the ground began to slope downwards and the two Saeni started to tread more carefully.

The rift will be at the bottom of this gully, just a short distance ahead. The mother goddess’ sweet voice filtered into Jimin’s mind, and her words made his breath quicken.

“Holy shit, Mingi, we’re almost there,” Jimin said in astonishment while deliberately sliding down a steep section on his side then bracing a foot against the base of a tree to stand back up. “It’s at the bottom of thi-”

Snap!

As the sharp, loud sound made Jimin stop mid-sentence, Mingi held up his fist, shifted his gaze to the side, and peered into the forest. The Saeni held their breath for one… two… three… four…

A dark blur erupted out of the foliage, teeth and claws bared.

Something slammed into Jimin, sending him head over heels backwards down the slope.

A growl and agonized cry joined the symphony of chirping insects and birds.

Tumbling all the way to the bottom of the gully, Jimin flopped onto his back and groaned while pressing his fingertips to his forehead. Hot liquid smeared across his skin and when he pulled his fingers away they were dabbled with blood. His eyebrows shot up, making him wince as the action agitated at the cut at his hairline, and he took a shaky inhale then looked up. Mingi was still standing on the incline, a hand braced against his side as he positioned himself between Jimin and the prowling wolf before him. Red poked out between the guard’s fingers but the male grit his teeth and stared down the snarling animal. The wolf’s hackles were raised and its ears erect as it showed its sharp incisors then let out a series of nasty barks. But Mingi didn’t even flinch, challenging the animal.

Jimin wobbled to his feet right as the wolf crouched backwards. And then it pounced.

Mingi unsheathed his sword as the canine attacked, grunting as the movement tugged at the claw wound on his side. The wolf mostly twisted out of the way but the edge of the blade still sliced into its body. The wolf let out a high-pitched whine that morphed into another growl as it landed on its paws. Without hesitation, the wolf leapt again and went for Mingi’s legs. There was no relent in the animal’s aggression. It kept surging forward again and again and again. Teeth sunk into the Saeni’s calf and the wolf yanked its head, causing the male to fall and lose hold of his sword. The blade clanged to the earth while Mingi’s head landed on a rock. Jimin gasped sharply. The wolf released the male’s leg and turned to look at apricot head, who had been watching the scene unfold with an overwhelming sense of helplessness. But as if gazing into those black, threatening eyes brought him to his senses, Jimin shuddered, sucked in a gulp of air, and reached over his shoulder. Noting his quiver was much emptier after his tumble down the slope, he closed his fingers around the fletching of an arrow and began to pull it out as the wolf growled and started stalking down the slope. With a curse, Mingi sluggishly rolled over, grabbed one of the wolf’s back legs, and hauled the animal back. Then the guard climbed on top of the canine, pinning it down regardless of how much it thrashed. How much it dug its claws into his body and tried to bite him with gnashing teeth.

“GO!” Mingi’s booming voice was clear but his hazel eyes were clouded with pain as they bore into Jimin. “Get to the rift! Go!”

The half-Saeni’s feet were frozen.

“Fucking Exia, GO!”

Jimin, you must go. I know it is hard but you must. The mother goddess urged him to leave as well.

His body jerked but his feet stayed glued in place. How could he leave Mingi? How could he just go? He had to do something!

Don’t throw away their valor…

Mingi’s words echoed in Jimin’s head along with Illai’s.

You must go…

So, he did. He turned and ran. Eyes glossy with tears and heart brimming with hurt.

The sound of bubbling water soon rushed to his ears and a creek came into view. It was shallow, wide, and rocky. Jimin ran alongside and through the water as the creek curved and weaved through the forest.

You are nearly there.

The half-Saeni splashed through the cold water.

Just up ahead! On your left!

He bounded up and over some rocks. The creek twisted away and he began to make his way uphill.

Then skidded to a halt.

To his left was a rugged, rocky incline leading to what appeared to be a cavern opening.

But in front on him was a male resting on top of a large rock with smoky darkness coiling in the air behind him.

The male smiled at Jimin but the expression was sinister and chilling.

“Well, well, well. I’ve been waiting for you.” The darkness pulsed and expanded as the male smirked. “Ready to have your heart carved out, key?”

Hobi flipped the knife in his hand as he dodged another sickle of amethyst magic, grimacing as the pain of his cracked his spiked again. The white-haired Saeni refused to let it slow him down though, so he spun on his heels and threw the blade. The weapon rotated through the air toward the draikensu but she deflected it with a quick shield comprised of her magic.

“Stop throwing shit!” Yoongi snapped at his partner while lassoing a line of his magic around the female’s ankle and yanking hard. “You’re going to run out of blades again!”

The female magic user toppled to the side but caught herself on her knee. Using the stumble to his advantage, Yoongi lifted both hands and wrapped his magic around the female’s torso and chest. Mint-blue magic bound her arms to her sides and began to squeeze, gradually crushing the draikensu.

“NOW!” Yoongi yelled as sweat trailed down his face and neck while he slowly closed his hands into fists.

The kiela’s spy brandished another blade and rushed the restrained magic user from the side. At the same time, the female hissed and focused her attention on the arm closest to the approaching Saeni. Yoongi saw her efforts, her attempts to rip through the constricting blue magic with her own, and was determined to not let her break through. It was time they finished this fight. It had gone on long enough. He fisted his hands even more, causing the draikensu to scream through her teeth. Hobi was about fifteen yards out when the female somehow managed to twist her arm underneath the magic so her glowing hand slipped out. The sight made Yoongi’s petal pink eyes widen in realization. And dread. He had been wrong. She hadn’t been trying to tear through his magic but rather rebuff it so she could free her hand. Before Yoongi was able to restrain the released appendage, the female flicked her wrist and sent out a small crescent of magic.

And Hobi didn’t have enough time to dodge it.

Yoongi could only watch in horror as the other male tried to leap out of the way but the edge of the magic still cut through his side.

Once the magic passed through, the white-haired Saeni slowed down and pressed a hand to his torso as if in a daze, flickered his eyes to Yoongi, dropped to his knees, then crumpled to the ground. He didn’t move after that.

Yoongi stared, his blood running cold and hands beginning to shake, as Hobi didn’t move. It felt like there was a sudden hole in his chest and it was becoming hard to breathe. 

This can’t be real. 

This can’t be real. 

This can’t be real. 

Then the sound of pleased laughter reached his ears, and he turned his gaze back to the draikensu who was now giggling manically. Yoongi’s eyes hardened and his body abruptly became hot with anger. He took a step toward the female as she began to cleave through the magic around her. Another step and Yoongi clenched his fists as hard as he could. The mint-blue magic obeyed his orders and multiple cracking noises came from the female’s bones, making her shriek. Another step and Yoongi moved his wrist so his magic vanished from the draikensu’s torso… but an instant later, blue tendrils shot out of the earth and curled around her ankles and calves. The female yelled and sent a wave of amethyst magic at him. With an expression so blank it was terrifying, Yoongi held his hands out in front of him and his own magic easily burned through the female’s. His chest heaved. From anger, from pain, from shock, from disbelief. From no longer conserving his energy and letting his magic run rampant. Flexing his fingers, his magic snapped the bones in the female’s legs too. She screamed and the sound transformed into a gasping wail as she awkwardly slumped on the ground. Another step. More tendrils of mint-blue light rose up and clutched at her biceps. Another step. The draikensu desperately threw another wave of magic. Yoongi cut through it. Another step. Her humerus bones shattered. Another step. Magic coiled around her forearms. Another step. More broken bones. Another step. The female had tears streaking down her face as she pleaded with him to stop. Blue light wound up her neck and covered her mouth. Another step. The amethyst light around her hands started to blink and disappear. Ropes of blue magic surrounded both her wrists. Crack. Another step. A slender tendril of blue light coiled around both her index fingers. Another step. Crack. Another step. The middle fingers. Crack.

By the time Yoongi was right before the female, every single one of her fingers were broken and misshapen. He could hear her muffled cries and saw the tears pouring down her face as he crouched down. Her eyes begged him to stop. He said nothing, just held her gaze while raising his right hand and hovering it over her heart. Magic shot out and entered her chest. Her restrained body flinched and her pupils expanded as the tendrils wrapped around her heart. Then Yoongi jerked his wrist back and his magic followed, tearing her heart out in the process. The female immediately went limp and he released all his magic encasing her so she collapsed in a broken, bruised, bloody heap.

After tossing her heart aside, Yoongi blinked at his red, tremoring hands while the rest of his body convulsed from overexertion and his pulse raced. Suddenly, he stiffened and choked on air before half-crawling, half-sprinting over to where he had last seen him. Stumbling over the corpses and discarded weapons on the field, Yoongi finally reached the white-haired Saeni. He was on the ground in a puddle of his own blood, and the only movement coming from his body was the slightest rise and fall of his chest as he peered up at the sky with lidded eyes.

The cold, blank expression on Yoongi’s face cracked and he whispered Hobi’s name as he heavily dropped to the ground beside the spy, which made blood splash around his legs. “No no no no no….” The magic user’s bottom lip began to quiver.

At his voice, Hobi’s eyelashes fluttered and his light brown eyes seemed to focus more before shifting and settling on the mint-haired Saeni.

The kiela’s spy weakly smiled and croaked out, “Hi… hyung.”

A sharp ache spread across Yoongi’s chest, his throat started to close up, and a clear droplet landed on Hobi’s torso. Then another. And another. The magic user was crying as he stared at the gushing wound on Hobi’s side. He murmured unintelligibly to himself while placing his unsteady hands over the deep gash, making the other male jerk at the contact. Then Yoongi’s hands began to glow faintly with what little energy he had left.

“Stop… hyung stop. You need to… protect yourself.”

“No, you stop!” Yoongi was scared at how feeble the other male sounded as his tears now dripped onto the back of his hands and rolled off to mix into crimson. “Stop talking I can-”

Hobi sluggishly lifted his hand to place it over Yoongi’s. “Save your magic… to protect yourself… Let me go.”

“Shut up! SHUT UP! You can’t… you can’t just…”

“Shh… it’s okay hyung.”

A sob ripped its way out of the magic user’s constricted throat while his mint-blue magic began to dim. “NO, IT’S NOT! You can’t go. You can’t just leave me. I need you, Hoseok. I need you to stay with me. I love you. You can’t go!”

Hobi’s eyes went wide and he drew in a tiny, sharp breath but in the next second his body slackened and his hand partially slipped off Yoongi’s.

“H-Hoseok…? Hoseok!?” The mint-haired Saeni’s voice was laced with fear.

There was no response.

Yoongi felt like he couldn’t bring any air into his lungs as he jostled the other male’s shoulders desperately. When there was still no reaction the magic user shook his head, refusing to accept it. With strained gasps he moved his hands back to the wound and closed his eyes to pour everything he had into his magic. His energy, his life, his entire being. Mint-blue light flared up around his hands once more and grew brighter and brighter and brighter as the Saeni roughly screamed from exertion. Beneath the blinding light, Hobi’s flesh began to stitch itself together and Yoongi grit his teeth and pushed his magic beyond its limits.

It lasted for a few moments longer but as he took a shuddering, slow inhale, the light rapidly depleted. Within mere seconds, the magic was completely gone. Yoongi swayed on his knees and was barely able to open his petal pink eyes to catch a glimpse of the thin line that had replaced the wide-open cut. He exhaled lightly and lips quirked into a small smile, then his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell to the side.

After he hit the ground with a gentle thud and the breeze whispered over both their bloodied skin, Hobi slowly breathed in and his light brown eyes blinked open. Pressing a hand against his side, his brows furrowed when he didn’t feel his cut-open flesh anymore. His skin was still wet with blood but only a thin incision remained where the large wound had been. The kiela’s spy was confused and raised his head to look at his torso, and in the process saw a familiar head of mint-blue hair resting on the grass beside him.

Worried, the white-haired Saeni pushed himself up with a wince, which also caused an influx of queasiness, and rolled the magic user to his back. “Hyung? Hyung!? Yoongi!!?”

The magic user was unresponsive, causing Hobi to look around helplessly. The other fights were starting to draw closer now that there weren’t any magic users battling to make them keep their distance. The spy cursed and glanced over his shoulder. He had to get Yoongi out of there. His gaze narrowed in on tree with the broken branches and saw there was an open space between them and the trunk. Plus, the branches were thick and full, meaning the leaves would provide a good bit of cover. Nodding to himself, Hobi pulled Yoongi’s limp form into his arms and stood up. Ignoring the sharp pain in his side as well as the overwhelming urge to keel over, the white-haired Saeni staggered over the grass and bodies to the tree.

When he finally ducked beneath the tree limbs, Hobi was gasping for air and his entire body was shaking. Once fully underneath the cover of the leaves and smaller branches, his legs gave out as the last of his strength left his body. Both he and Yoongi tumbled to the ground. Whimpering and clutching at his side, the kiela’s spy took a readying breath then shifted around until he was able to ensure they were both fully concealed. Then he maneuvered Yoongi onto his back and leaned over him.

“Hyung?”

Suddenly the words he’d heard right before the world had floated away into nothingness surged to the forefront of his thoughts.

I need you to stay with me. I love you. You can’t go!

Yoongi’s voice rang in his mind over and over like a bell.

I need you.

I love you.

I need you.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

“Hyung wake up!” Hobi cradled Yoongi’s face in his hands as tears welled up in his eyes. “You can’t just say you love me then die before I can say it back!”

A low groan came from the magic user’s lips, making Hobi cry out and hold the other male’s face even more tenderly.

“Oh my goddess…” Yoongi muttered in a gravelly voice. “I’m not dead, I just passed out for a sec-wait.” His petal pink eyes shot open and his mouth parted in surprise. “Did you just say-”

“I love you too.”

Yoongi gazed up in shock, his body frozen from both absolute exhaustion and the surge of emotions he felt. He couldn’t believe it. His heart pounded in his chest while overwhelming relief and happiness settled over him.

But Hobi misunderstood his silence, flinching back the slightest amount. “I-uh-sorry. I should’ve known you didn’t mean it… um, like that.”

The spy went to lean away but Yoongi grabbed a hold of Hobi’s wrist and tugged him back while rolling his pink eyes. “I did mean it like that. Idiot.”

Then Yoongi placed his other hand on the back of Hobi’s neck and drew him down to his lips.

The intense surge of mint-blue light in the distance suddenly died down, making both Namjoon and Jin glance at each other in concern while they continued to hack their way through the enemy. Jin was in the lead, taking care of most of the draikensu, while Namjoon covered the rear. The kiela’s leader was still limping as he hammered the occasional dark Saeni out of the way, but thanks to the magic user who had helped him he was able to walk and wasn’t in danger of bleeding out anymore. He did regret that he hadn’t been able to properly thank her afterwards though. She had disappeared into the fray the instant she was done. He hadn’t even gotten her name.

Maybe he could find her once this ordeal was over to express his gratitude. Granted, that could only happen if they both survived.

Luckily, the draikensu no longer seemed to be pouring out of the trees. There were still plenty to fight, but there was some extra room to breathe and it was simply relieving to see the enemy’s forces did indeed have a cap. Plus, less draikensu made it easier for the two Saeni to move through the field.

The duo was heading toward Yoongi’s magic, drawn to his bright blue light like moths to a flame. But now they were worried. About a minute ago, their brother’s magic had gotten more vivid and intense than they had ever seen before. It seemed like everything in the distance had been consumed in it. Like the air had been set ablaze in blue. Then it disappeared and no mint-blue magic had flared up since.

But the two males were still determined to get to the spot where they had seen it.

Jin tore his gaze away from Namjoon and sidestepped the swing of a mace then stepped in and thrust his sword deep in the belly of the draikensu before him. They fell to the side and the raven-haired Saeni continued forward with Namjoon close behind. The Saeni made it about twenty feet before a new opponent arrived. Arms throbbing as they lifted his blood-covered sword to pary the attack, Jin quickly pivoted and ran the edge of his blade along the draikensu’s thigh then across their chest.

While Jin disposed of the draikensu, Namjoon was peering around the field for any possible threats when a flash of burgundy caught his attention. The yellow-eyed male perked up and squinted. Same hair color… right height and build… and Namjoon swore there was a sword in each of their hands. There was no doubt. It had to be Jungkook… but something was wrong.

The male was slightly hunched over and wavering from side to side as he shuffled forward frantically. His footsteps were heavy, shoulders sagging, and every few seconds he would cover his ears and shake his head as he stumbled along. And while he still cut through whatever draikensu confronted him, it wasn’t with his usual speed and precision.

Shocked, Namjoon whispered his youngest brother’s name, making Jin’s head dart up and look for the male.

When he finally located his brother, the raven-haired male began to feel uneasy. “What in Illai’s name is he doing?”

Namjoon shook his head, not having an answer, before calling out to Jungkook. They were close enough the Jungkook should have heard, even though the sound was somewhat muted by the other screams coming from around the field, but the male just continued moving as if he could only focus on what was directly in front of him.

Jin swore under his breath and went after his brother, and despite the injury on his thigh, Namjoon was fast to follow. The two Saeni made their way toward Jungkook, taking down any draikensu that dared to get in their way all while still yelling out to their little brother. Meanwhile, the burgundy-haired Saeni wobbled on his feet as he blocked an incoming attack with his swords and both Namjoon and Jin saw how he grimaced and favored his right side. With a strained grunt, Jungkook forced the draikensu back and ducked below their next strike to lunge forward and bury a sword into their stomach. He dragged the blade to the side, completely gutting the draikensu then pulled the sword free. Reeling back a step as the dark Saeni toppled, Jungkook’s chest heaved and his sweaty hair fell into his eyes while he reached his right arm behind him. He appeared to brush his knuckles against a spot on his lower back that made his face contort in pain. His peridot eyes squeezed shut for only a few seconds, but it was long enough for a draikensu to spot the vulnerable male and rush at him.

“Shit-JUNGKOOK!” Jin shouted loudly, his voice booming across the field.

The youngest member of the kiela slowly opened his eyes and blinked a few times as he recognized the voice, but he still didn’t realize there was a draikensu coming at him. Seeing that his brother wasn’t moving, Jin decided to take matters into his own hands. Hefting his sword and pushing through the crowded field, he sprinted as fast as he could in order to intercept the draikensu while roaring to divert their attention from his brother. Their swords met with a shrill ring and Namjoon called out Jungkook’s name once more.

The panting burgundy-haired male raised his head with effort and looked for his brother’s voice. “H-Hyung?”

Seconds later, Namjoon broke through two draikensu blocking his way with a powerful swing of his hammer and ran up to his brother. As he approached, the worry budding inside Namjoon became a fully blossomed flower when he noticed Jungkook was painted in blood and that his entire body was shaking.

Coming to a stop beside the male, Namjoon let his hammer drop to the ground so he could reach out and pull his brother into a hug. “Kook, oh my goddess, what’s going on with you!?”

The younger Saeni trembled in Namjoon’s arms, but he suddenly stiffened and hissed when the elder shifted his arms lower on his back.

“What? What is it?” Namjoon peered over Jungkook’s shoulder and saw his hand was just shy of a particularly bloody area. “Are you hurt!?”

“It’s nothing,” Jungkook replied detachedly like he didn’t even care he had a stab wound on his back. “Hyung, I need to-”

“That’s not nothing!” The yellow-eyed male leaned back to go inspect the wound further but flinched when he noticed how hollow and empty the younger’s eyes looked.

“What’s not nothing?” Jin appeared behind Jungkook, having defeated the draikensu quickly, and raised his brows in question.

“Jin hyung!” Jungkook twisted in Namjoon’s arms and Jin was taken back at the wild desperation on the maknae’s face. “I need to know-”

“He thinks it’s nothing that he got stabbed!” Namjoon cut him off once more in a bewildered, stressed tone.

Regardless of the chaos around them, Jin felt his brain shut down for a moment and he blinked as it promptly rebooted… and then he shrieked, “WHAT!? WHERE!?”

Turning Jungkook by his shoulders, Namjoon pointed at the leaking wound and the raven-haired Saeni gasped. The two older males crouched down behind their protesting maknae and inspected his back. They prodded gently, although their touches still made Jungkook tense up and reach for the dagger that was no longer strapped to his side, while murmuring questions of ‘how did this happen?’ and ‘how much blood have you lost?’ and ‘how do we wrap this out here?’ and ignoring Jungkook’s pleas to listen to him.

“Hyungs.”

Namjoon looked down at his clothes and huffed in frustration. “I don’t have anything we can use.”

“Hyungs!”

“Fucking Exia, neither do I.”

“It looks like the-”

“Hyungs!”

“-blade went straight in and out but his organs could be damaged.”

“Our best bet is getting him to Yoongi.”

“FOR FUCKING EXIA’S SAKE, THAT’S WHERE I’M TRYING TO GO!” What little patience Jungkook had ran out and he screamed at his brothers while swiveling to face them. “SO, IF NEITHER OF YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO Y/N THEN LET ME GET TO YOONGI HYUNG!”

Namjoon gaped at his outburst. “Y/N? Wha-”

“She’s not on the cliff anymore.” The peridot-eyed Saeni went to touch his dagger again but remembered so he tightly gripped both his swords instead to ground himself even though it wasn’t the same. “She’s not there!”

Both Jin and Namjoon looked over at the cliff and searched for your familiar figure, but Jungkook was right. You weren’t there. Their eyes widened but they pushed down their alarm, controlled their expressions, and did their best to stay calm for the sake of their maknae, who was now pressing his fists and sword hilts hard against his ears while repeating what sounded like ‘shut up’ under his breath.

“Okay, Kook, just breathe.” Jin tried to place a hand on the younger’s arm but Jungkook stiffened then threw it off.

“No, hyung! I need to find her! She could be… could be…” An intense shudder ran through Jungkook’s body and the male grit his teeth while reaching his hand behind his back again and taking deep inhales before continuing. “So, if you haven’t seen her-”

“We haven’t,” Jin said regretfully while Namjoon looked down at his feet.

They both hated this. Seeing their youngest brother injured and nearly breaking down. Knowing you could be in trouble and not having a clue where you were. How could they have allowed this to happen to their family? How could they fail their family like this?

As the two Saeni were mentally beating themselves up, Jungkook’s legs buckled at the confirmation that neither of his hyungs knew what had happened to you, and he partially collapsed to his knee while burying his face in his arms. The angle made the pain in his back become searing and Jungkook released a groan that soon faded into a cry. Startled and feeling like their hearts were being violently squeezed, Namjoon and Jin immediately went to help their brother up. While they softly pulled the hyperventilating male to his feet, Jin noticed a draikensu coming at them and silently exchanged a look with his leader before letting go of Jungkook’s arm. The eldest member of the kiela stepped away, twirled his sword in his hand so the handle settled into his palm properly, then charged the enemy as Jungkook latched onto Namjoon. The burgundy head clutched at his brother in a way that was somehow both weak and ferocious, and tears finally spilled over his eyelashes and dripped off his chin to plop onto Namjoon’s shoulders.

The leader held him close and whispered what he hoped were soothing assurances. “It’ll be okay. She’ll be okay. She’s a scorja, remember? She’s strong.” He peeked over to check on Jin and saw the male was shoving his blade through the draikensu’s abdomen, then returned his focus on Jungkook who was blubbering against his shoulder.

“Y-Yoongi hyung can probably locate her through the kiela bond since w-we share-”

“Your connection.”

Jungkook sniffled, nodded, then slowly detached himself from the older male, being careful of the blades still in his hands.

“Come on,” Namjoon said softly while wiping away some of the stray tears on the maknae’s cheeks. “We’ll help you get to Yoongi hyung. Get you healed up and then find Y/N. Sound good? Yeah?”

Jungkook let out a shaky exhale as he nodded again and wiped at his face with his knuckles. The other Saeni faintly smiled then leaned down to pick up his hammer before wrapping Jungkook’s arm around his shoulders so he could carry some of the young one’s weight. Jungkook hissed and shut his eyes at the pain but took a deep breath and rasped out that he was fine. Namjoon whispered an apology. He really didn’t want to hurt Jungkook more by tugging on his wound, but he knew it was better than having Jungkook collapse on the way. Not to mention the pain would help him stay awake and alert.

As Jungkook reiterated that he was fine, albeit with a grimace on his face, Jin ran back to the two Saeni with a fresh cut on his forearm but was otherwise unhurt. Yet when he slowed to a stop and noticed Jungkook’s now red and puffy eyes, he had to press his lips together firmly and glance away momentarily to keep his emotions in check.

“Yoongi hyung,” Namjoon informed the older male and tilted his head in the proper direction.

The raven-haired Saeni hummed in acknowledgement, still not looking at his youngest brother out of fear of choking up, and shifted in front of them so they formed a squished a triangle. Then they all set out. They moved at a measured pace; fast but slow enough that Jungkook could keep up without needing Namjoon to drag him along.

It took the trio maybe five minutes to reach the area where they had last seen the distinct flashes of mint-blue magic. Somehow, they managed to have had only a few encounters with draikensu on the way, and Jin got had gotten rid of them quickly with efficient swings and thrusts of his sword. But as they searched through the crowd the magic user was nowhere to be found. All they could see was more fighting, no magic.

For a second, they thought they might be in the wrong place… but they couldn’t be. That large tree they had all seen in the distance beside the flares of mint-blue magic was right there.

“We can’t just run around looking for him.” Jin shook his head and peered over his shoulder at Jungkook, who was trying to hold in his groans, then at Namjoon. “Not with him like this and not with your leg.”

Jungkook tilted his head in confusion and asked, “Your leg? What happened to your leg?”

“I, uh, might have gotten stabbed too,” Namjoon replied sheepishly then cleared his throat and looked Jin in the eye. “Let’s make our way to the tree. It looks like there’s some downed branches Kook and I can shelter under while you look for hyung, and it’s a good marker for you to find us again too.”

“Alright, let’s go.” Jin once again began to lead the way, and the three Saeni weaved through bodies and weapons toward the tree.

At one point, while Jin was preoccupied with a female draikensu wielding a trident, another spotted how Namjoon was supporting Jungkook and bolted at them with a gleeful squeal. Both males cursed as the draikensu raised her lance. They knew they were in an awkward position to fight but before they could separate the female was driving her weapon toward Jungkook’s chest. The peridot-eyed male leaned almost all of his weight on Namjoon, who was fumbling with his hammer, and lifted his arm so the sharp point of the draikensu’s weapon bounced off the flat side of his sword. Jungkook set his jaw as the power behind her strike vibrated up his arm and into his body, which caused Namjoon to stagger slightly. Then, as Jin was slicing through his opponent’s armor and the female was bringing her lance around for another attack, Jungkook abruptly surged forward and kicked the draikensu’s legs out from underneath her. Her back hit the grass and in the next second Jin was plunging his sword through her body. The female craned her head upwards for a brief second, staring at the steel piercing her, then she went limp as blood trickled out of the corner of her mouth. Jin removed his sword while Jungkook gasped, clenched his teeth, and sagged against Namjoon in pain. The yellow-eyed male held him the as best he could and guided the youngest along when Jin went on the move again.

“Can you crawl?” The leader of the kiela asked as they quickly approached the tree. “Because I don’t think I can lug your heavy ass under there.”

Jungkook scoffed and rolled his peridot eyes while he tried not to drag his feet. “Why wouldn’t I be able to crawl?”

“Still difficult.” Jin sighed. “Even after being stabbed.”

A minute later, they finally reached the tree and skirted around the thick trunk until the broken branches were before them. As smoothly as he could manage, Namjoon bent his knees and eased Jungkook to the ground while Jin stood guard. After the burgundy head was gently plopped on the dirt and he rolled to his forearms with a wince, he peered into the dense leaves and stilled in astonishment.

“What?” Namjoon wondered aloud as he crouched beside the male and followed Jungkook’s line of sight. “Oh.”

Through the branches, their eyes settled on a stunned Hobi who was staring back at them. The male had one of his daggers in hand but his other arm was wrapped around the mint-haired Saeni that was laying in his lap. Yoongi’s eyes were closed but his chest was gently rising and falling as if he was in a deep sleep.

The plump leaves and branches had camouflaged them both from view until Jungkook and Namjoon had gotten right up to the foliage, but there was no mistaking it was their brothers.

“Uhhhh… Jin hyung?” Jungkook called up to the male who was still focused on watching out for draikensu.

“Yeah?” Jin replied loudly but he didn’t turn his back on the field. “Do you need help?”

“No, um, he’s here.” Jungkook blinked at Hobi who did the same at him. “Yoongi hyung. Hobi hyung too.”

“Huh?” The raven-haired Saeni whirled around with his jaw agape.

“Hi hyung,” Hobi’s voice faintly came from the leaves.

Namjoon couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he let his head hang in relief. “Well, this makes things easier.”

But Jungkook got over his surprise, huffed, and began to move over the dirt and roots. “Is hyung seriously sleeping!? He needs to wake up! Now!” With every movement he made, the agony in his lower back soared, but he tried to disguise how much he was hurting by setting his jaw and continuing forward.

He needed to get to Yoongi.

Leaves grazed his head and twigs scratched his skin and he could hear rustling as Namjoon followed him under the branches.

“Kook’s hurt,” the yellow-eyed Saeni informed his brother.

“Oh, shit. Okay… O-Okay.” Hobi glanced at Jungkook and his gaze settled on the dark, wet spot on his back but he quickly averted his eyes to focus on lightly shaking the magic user in his lap. “I don’t know if he will wake up, though.”

“What? Why?” Jungkook glared while he pulled the rest of his body into the small open space his brothers were in.

Hobi gave them a tight-lipped smile and gestured to his side, which was covered in copious amounts of dried blood. “I, uh, almost died and hyung used all his energy to save me.”

Moving backwards so he could kneel closer to the group, Jin speculated that that must have been the cause of the intense flare up of magic they all had seen.

Namjoon shifted so he could check on Jungkook’s wound again while Hobi shrugged at Jin’s statement then leaned down so his lips were ghosting Yoongi’s ear. “Hyung, come on. You gotta wake up. Kookie needs your help.” The white-haired Saeni smoothed his thumb over Yoongi’s cheek and brushed some of his mint hair away from his forehead.

The other males saw the tender action and raised their brows at Hobi who started to blush and stammer.

“Oh, u-um, it’s, ah…”

“Later?” Namjoon offered with a small grin while helping Jungkook get more comfortable on his stomach.

“Y-Yeah. Thanks.”

Finally, the mint-haired Saeni stirred and deeply groaned but he only nuzzled into Hobi’s lap more, making the spy turn even more red and frantic with his shaking.

“Let me sleep, ‘m tired,” Yoongi huskily murmured.

Namjoon let out a long exhale and inched closer to the magic user. Then, using his “leader voice,” he ordered the other Saeni to wake up.

“Agh, why do you sound li-” Petal pink eyes cracked open. “Ah, no it actually is Joon. Great.” The male flitted his gaze around. “And Kook. You look like shit by the way. And I’m going to hope the creeper watching us through the leaves is Jin hyung.”

Hobi laughed nervously and Jin berated the magic user for calling him a creeper while Yoongi just snorted and looked back at Jungkook.

“Seriously, you look terrible… I haven’t seen you like this since I kicked your ass for the first time. Don’t tell me a draikensu gave you-”

“Shut up,” the burgundy head retorted weakly.

“-trouble and you ha-”

“He got stabbed and Y/N is missing,” Namjoon explained bluntly.

In a flash, Yoongi snapped his jaw shut and sat up in shock, but the fast movement made him hold his head as a wave of dizziness and nausea hit him.

While the magic user grumbled as his head spun and stomach lurched, the kiela’s spy let out a chirp-like squeak. “Hold up, Y/N is missing!?”

“Yes.” Jungkook felt his temper start to ignite again and he stabbed one of his swords into the ground. “So, can we please stop talking and do something?”

Namjoon placed a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder to try to calm him down but the burgundy head growled in impatience.

Hardened peridot eyes stared into Yoongi’s drowsy ones. “Can you track her through our connection and the kiela bond?”

“I… I don’t know. Maybe.” The magic user took a deep breath and flexed his fingers… but no magic sparked up. “I probably could but I’m so drained I can barely stay awake honestly.”

Yoongi looked down at his hands and clenched them into fists. Hobi rubbed his back, Namjoon was lost in thought trying to think of a solution, and Jungkook ground his blade further into the dirt while tears threatened to fall onto his cheeks again.

“That means you can’t heal Kook either?” Jin questioned, but he already knew the answer.

They all did.

Yoongi muttered a pitiful ‘right’ and the Saeni fell silent.

They only heard their ragged breathing, the leaves, and the screams and ringing metal coming from every direction.

Then Jungkook yanked his dagger out of the earth and began to shift around regardless of the pain screaming at him to stop. “I’m going to go find her.”

“No, you’re not.” Namjoon grabbed the younger male’s forearm.

“Let me go.”

“You can hardly move!”

“Bu-”

“He’s right, Kook.” Yoongi lifted his head, baring his remorsful face to the others. “You’re just going to get yourself killed.”

“I have to try!” Jungkook tried to pull his harm back yet again but Namjoon held firm, and his struggle caused a twinge to form in his brothers’ hearts.

Taking in the youngest’s wilted and wrecked appearance, Jin squeezed his sword handle tightly as he came to a decision and started to stand up. “I’ll go find her. Everyone else stay h-”

“HYUNG!”

A body slid to a stop beside a startled Jin and they looked up at him with a blood-stained face and big, boxy smile.

“Tae!?”

The younger Saeni gave him a little salute and let out a tired exhale before turning his head and widening his bright blue eyes in pleasant surprise. “Whoa, everyone’s here! You all saw Yoongi hyung’s crazy magic too, huh?” Tae then got on his knees and reached out to clasp a bewildered Jin’s forearm in greeting before clambering further beneath the two broken branches and saying hello to the other Saeni.

They all gaped at him for a few heartbeats, stuttering out quiet and somewhat stupefied ‘hellos’ in return, until Jungkook inhaled sharply and dropped his swords then pushed himself up with a deep, throaty groan. The blue-eyed Saeni went to ask why Jungkook was so pale and making such noises but before he could open his mouth, his younger brother was frantically grasping his arms and asking if he’d seen you.

“Little scorja?” Tae paused for a moment, the craziness of the situation making his mind go blank temporarily. The other Saeni waited anxiously… then his blue eyes lit up. “Oh yeah! She ran into the trees after fighting off a draikensu that got on top of the cliff.”

His words were like a remedy as the Saeni breathed out in relief, some of the tension and uncertainty lifting from their bodies and minds. Jungkook himself trembled and his hold on Tae’s arms loosened as he slumped to the ground while closing his eyes and turning his lips up into the tiniest of smiles.

But Yoongi looked confused. “She… ran? That doesn’t seem like her.”

Tae shrugged and intertwined one of his hands with Jungkook’s. “If I had to guess, she probably went after Chim for some reason.”

The burgundy-haired male whipped his head up and his eyes held hope as he whispered something about the rift.

“Fuck no.” Yoongi saw the glimmer in the male’s peridot eyes. “You’re not going anywhere while you’re hurt.”

“What!? Kookie, you’re hurt!?” The blue-eyed Saeni tightened his grip and rapidly scanned Jungkook’s body while the younger male mumbled out that it was his back. Tae peeked behind the male, frowned, and shook his head disapprovingly. “Little scorja is going to be pissed.”

As the blue-eyed Saeni forced Jungkook to lay down on his stomach again, Hobi glumly twirled his dagger in his fingers. “And hyung doesn’t have any energy left remember? He can’t do anything right now.”

Jin rested the point of his longsword in the dirt. “I can still-shit.” A draikensu had come too close to the fallen branches for the Jin’s liking so he cut off his own sentence and sprang to his feet.

The raven-haired male crept out from the leaves and swung at the unsuspecting draikensu. Jin’s longsword glinted brightly in the sunlight, and the flash caught the draikensu’s attention which allowed them to turn and block the attack at the last second. Undeterred, Jin attacked again.

“Well, can’t one of us give you some of our energy?” Tae tilted his head to the side, making his bloodied feather sway in the air.

“What?” Yoongi blinked hard to try to stay awake.

“I mean couldn’t you just siphon energy from one of us?”

Hobi widened his eyes and turned his head to the magic user resting against his him. “Could you do that?”

“I… I’ve never through of it before but… possibly? I’m not sure how it would work exactly though.”

“Hyung, please try,” Jungkook softly pleaded in a tiny voice.

“Here.” Tae stretched his arm out. “You can take mine.”

Namjoon placed his fingertips on Tae’s wrist and gently lowered it. “I’m injured as well so it’s better if he takes mine. That way there’s still someone who can go after Y/N with Kook.”

“But Jin hyung could go with-”

Tae was interrupted by a heavy breathing Jin disagreeing with him while crawling back between the tree trunk and the fallen branches. “Tae, you’re honestly the only one who could keep up with Kook right now. You go. I’ll stay here and watch over everyone.”

Adrenaline flooded your veins as you ran through the shrubs and underneath the tall trees. It made the painful aching in your body, especially your legs, bearable while you continued to move in the direction Stem had pointed in. The direction that should lead you to your best friend. You didn’t know how close or far he and Mingi were, but you were just going to keep running until you found them or your legs gave out. Whichever came from. And even if your legs refused to move, you still had functioning arms and hands. You would crawl. Hell, if Alex Høgh Andersen could do it as Ivar the Boneless in Vikings for seven years you could do it for one day for your best friend, dammit.

“But it won’t…come to that, Y/N,” you wheezed to yourself between breaths. “You’re fine. Totally fine… Keep moving. Just… keep… moving… Just keep… moving… Just keep moving… moving… moving… What do we… do…? We move… move.”

Airily chuckling to yourself while the wind blew past you, you tried to swallow but your dry throat made you choke and you started coughing. Gasping more air into your lungs that felt like they were on fire, your feet faltered and you grabbed onto a tree trunk to stop yourself so you could lean your hands on your knees and spit out the excess saliva in your mouth. Though as you straightened back up, the wind died down for a moment and your nose twitched as you smelled that smell again. Death. It was strong and coming from up ahead. You hadn’t caught the disgusting scent sooner since you were running upwind, and you weren’t sure if you should be thankful for that or not.

Heart hammering in your chest and leg muscles spasming, you nodded to yourself and murmured, “Alright, here we go,” and notched an arrow before lightly jogging forward.

A minute or so later, the ground began to tilt downward and the smell of blood and death grew even more pungent. You tapped your finger nervously against your bow while zig-zagging down the slope. Halfway down, a flash by your feet made you look down and you saw a deserted arrow partially hidden by the low foliage. Furrowing your brow, you moved on but a few steps later another arrowhead reflected in the light by your feet. And another and another and another. It was like someone had dumped out their quiver… or had taken a tumble down. You trailed your eyes along the arrows until your gaze reached the bottom of the slope.

In the shade there was another lump.

You crept down the slope while scrutinizing the shape.

It definitely wasn’t a log this time. Or a person. It was another wolf.

It lay crumpled between two rocks. It’s head awkwardly propped up, limp tongue hanging out, and throat slit. Blood coated its fur and stained the rocks and twigs and leaves beneath its body.

Was this the wolf I heard back at the meadow? You wondered as you finished descending into the gully and approached the dead animal.

Wrinkling your nose at the stench radiating from the body, you sighed and turned away to continue on your journey. Though as you moved around the wolf, you noticed there was more blood on the ground leading away from it.

In the same direction you were going.

On alert, you readied yourself to draw your bow while you tentatively followed the blood trail. Maybe you were just being paranoid. The blood could easily just be from the wolf… but it worried you that the red droplets were going in the same direction that Jimin and Mingi were supposed to be in.

Ducking below a thick tree branch, you started to hear bubbling water over the rustling leaves.

And then heavy splashing and groaning.

Biting your lip, you moved cautiously.

Quickly, you came upon the source of the sound of water. It was a shallow but wide creek filled with lots of rocks. It opened up the gully a bit, allowing for more sunlight and open space.

And thus, permit you to see the male that was stumbling through the creek further ahead.

He was moving fast but limping badly. One arm was dragging his sword behind him, the tip clanging over the rocks, while the other was pressed against his torso.

And as he staggered into a patch of sunlight, you reeled as you realized you knew him.

“Mingi?” You whispered in confused shock then hastily returned your arrow to your quiver before shouting after him. “Mingi!”

The male was exiting the creek when he paused at your voice and looked over his shoulder in surprise.

You sprinted toward him, not bothering to be quiet anymore. Your feet pounded against the ground, hands roughly shoved branches out of the way. When the creek curved before you, you plunged right in. Mingi was right on the other bank. You were almost to him. You were going so fast you lost your footing on a slick rock and fell forward. A yelp escaped past your lips as your hands and knees were thrust into the icy water and your palms scraped against the rocks. Some water even splashed up onto your chest, making you tense up from how cold it was.

“Y-Y/N?” Mingi stammered out in a strained, faint voice while you pushed yourself back up. “Are you okay? H-How are you here?”

You were dripping water as you safely crossed the remainder of the creek and launched yourself at the Saeni, wrapping your arms around his waist while murmuring his name in relief. But the male released a choking sound and stiffened as you hugged him tightly.

“What? What’s wrong?” You leaned back and took in the way the guard was breathing strenuously and his hazel eyes were darker than usual.

Suddenly it hit you that he was alone.

“Mingi…” You stepped back from the male. “Where’s Jimin?”

And it was then you realized Mingi’s entire front was red. Slashes covered his body and blood was spilling onto his arm and hand where he held it across his stomach. You gaped at the wounds and glanced down at yourself, seeing you were now blotted with red too. You hadn’t felt it seep into your clothes because of the creek water. As you looked down, you noticed his leg was also coated in blood and it was pooling on the dirt and sand beneath his foot.

The blood trail was coming from him.

Mingi adjusted his arm over his torso and let out a ragged exhale. “The wolf attacked… I sent him ahead while I dealt with it… rift should be very close.”

You grimaced at the amount of blood steadily leaking out of the male’s body then registered what he had said. “It’s close? So Jimin should be close too…”

I really don’t think Mingi should be moving around with those wounds… I don’t even know how he’s moving around with them right now.

“I’ll go after him. You stay here,” you told him.

You went to go around him and start running once more but he quickly grabbed your arm with his bloody hand before you could leave.

He shook his head, determination in his hazel eyes, while holding his sword hilt with more strength. “I’ll keep up. I have to… it’s my job to protect him.”

You eyed him, wanting to say no, but it was his choice to make. Besides, the longer you stayed here and bickered with him, the more time you would be wasting. So, in the end, you just gave him a nod. His bloody hand slipped off your arm and you took off running knowing he would be following.

And true to his word, he did keep up despite the obvious pain he was in. He just endured it with gritted teeth and the occasional low moan as blood continued to spill from his body.

After jumping over a small runoff, you looked back at Mingi and asked if he knew how far the rift was.

“No… but if we keep… going straight… we should hit it soon… at least I think.”

You grunted in acknowledgement and refocused on the terrain before you. It was quite rocky and uneven, so you really had to watch where you were going so you wouldn’t twist an ankle.

Not long after, the creek curved away and the ground before you started to rise into a minor incline. You hopped up and over the rocks and roots in your path as the sounds of running water began to fade away, though your ears perked up as your heard something that was definitely not the forest replace it. Deep chuckles, small gasps and groans, dull thuds.

Deep breath, stay calm. Deep breath, stay calm. Deep breath, stay calm. You chanted internally while vaulting over a fallen tree.

When your feet landed back on the dead leaves, dirt, and twigs, you retrieved an arrow and readied your bow. You glanced back at Mingi who raised his bloody hand to his ear then pointed ahead to signal he was hearing the noises too. Then he brought his red finger to his lips to indicate to be quiet before returning his arm to lay across his torso while hoisting his sword in the air with his other arm.

The two of you briskly tiptoed beside each other as the thudding sounds increased in volume… and seconds later you saw who you’d been searching so desperately for.

Except he was being beaten.

Amid the large rocks that cluttered the area, a male draikensu was holding a bloody and bruised Jimin by the throat while sending his fist into the half-Saeni’s torso. The draikensu was carrying a bow and quiver on his back and a knife at his side but was using neither as he smirked darkly and simply used his bare hands to overwhelm the half-Saeni… and there was a strange plume of black smoke swirling behind the male. The smoke seemed to expand and collapse, almost like it was… alive. That sight alone was disturbing, but what was worse was watching your best friend gasp for air while clawing at the draikensu’s hand, his face swollen and purpled. The draikensu scoffed at Jimin’s attempts to free himself, threw him to the ground, then crouched over him to deliver three successive punches to his face.

The apricot head moaned and turned his head to the side to spit out blood onto the dirt while trying to crawl backwards to his bow which lay wedged in the rocks several yards away. The draikensu tsked and held down one of Jimin’s arms while also pressing his face into the ground to pin him.

Coming to your senses, you cried out for your best friend and raised your bow at the male restraining him.

“Oh, we have company now?” The male spared you and Mingi a brief look then grinned as if he was pleased. “Good.”

Neither you nor Mingi rushed the draikensu. Not when he was essentially holding Jimin captive and could snap your best friend’s neck in an instant. You didn’t shoot either. You didn’t have a clean shot with the angle and the draikensu could easily lift Jimin’s body to use as a shield.

Jimin tried to crane his neck your way and mumbled your name. “Y/…Y/N?”

Right after your name came from Jimin’s lips, the draikensu returned his attention to the male under him. He released Jimin’s face but slammed his fist into the apricot head’s temple. Your best friend went limp as the punch forced him unconscious. The draikensu hummed and straightened slightly to reach for the blade strapped to his waist. The smoke behind him seemed to dance in eagerness.

OH, FUCK.

You widened then narrowed your eyes, seeing how the male had eased his hold on Jimin’s arm and wasn’t as close. Mingi whispered ‘Now!’ and you released your bowstring to send your arrow flying at the draikensu.

You and Mingi followed, darting forward.

The male dove to the side to avoid the projectile, which sped past him and vanished into the trees. When he came to a stop, the draikensu growled and swiftly grabbed his own bow and an arrow while you were reaching for your quiver mid-sprint.

He aimed… right at you. And shot.

Your eyes widened but suddenly you were being shoved to the side. Your bow flew from your grasp and you hit the ground hard. Twisting around, you looked back at what had rammed into you… or rather who. It had been Mingi… who was looking down at the arrow now protruding from his sternum.

He had pushed you out of the way but sacrificed his own body to do so.

Mingi!

You stared as more blood bloomed on his chest and blended into the other lines of crimson crossing his body. As you watched the red flow out, so many emotions battled for dominance in your heart to the point you were stunned motionless. Meanwhile, Mingi wrapped a hand around the arrow shaft, staggered back a step, gulped, and flashed his eyes your way.

But before you could get up or help him or even blink, another arrow thumped into his chest.

The impact made him fall down to the earth. And within a few seconds, the light in his beautiful hazel eyes disappeared.

It was gone.

Mingi was gone.

No… no, Mingi. Please, no…

You were trembling, not knowing what to do when a satisfied sigh made you tear your eyes away. You met the draikensu’s gaze and you saw he was taking out another arrow from his quiver as he stood over Jimin.

“Remember my name,” he spoke to you proudly, “Amarok. The one who killed the key.”

He breathed in deeply through his nose as if he was preparing himself, then he turned his eyes and bow on your best friend.

All at once, alarms blared in your head, bringing you out of your frozen horror. You scrambled to your feet. You didn’t even have a plan or really know what you were doing but you charged forward as fast as you could.

Fifteen yards.

Amarok notched the arrow.

Ten yards.

He began to draw back.

Five yards.

The male smirked.

The smoke hovered in anticipation.

You lowered your shoulder like seasoned football player and you slammed into the draikensu with a yell and all the strength you had in your human body. You tackled him away from your best friend, making his bow and arrow clatter against a nearby rock, and the sheer momentum of your attack made you sail over the draikensu after he hit the ground.

Tumbling over the earth, you dug your forearms and elbows into dirt and leaves and stopped yourself a few feet away from the male. You panted while you used your shaking muscles to get up and squinted as sweat dripped into your eyes. Meanwhile, Amarok roared in agitation, clambered to his feet, and turned to face you with a menacing glower.

His jaw ticked once then he rolled his shoulders and started moving toward you.

Okay okay okay. Remember what Jungkook’s taught you. Yoongi too.

You stood and got into your fighting stance, spreading your legs slightly and balancing your weight while positioning your hands in front of your face. Amarok rolled his eyes and reached out to grab your arm but you skirted to the side and dropped to one knee while spinning with your other leg extended. You figured getting him on the ground and into a hold would be the best way to approach the situation so you tried to knock the male off his feet but he was fast to back up out of the way. He hummed thoughtfully while you got back to your feet and surged forward, aiming your knee at his gut. Amarok blocked your attack and used your proximity to thrust his elbow into your side and shove you back then swung his arm at your face. After lifting your forearm to hinder the fist, you went to deliver a punch in return but Amarok sidestepped, grasped your arm, and used your energy to turn and flip you to your back. You were forcefully thrown to the ground, making you involuntarily let out a half-grunt, half-puff of air on impact. Blinking to clear your head and see through the sun glaring through the trees, you realized there was a flat rock by your left leg. As the crookedly grinning draikensu went to lean over you and capture your throat in his large hand, you braced one foot against the flat rock, pushed your hips up, and brought your other leg across his chest. Then you clenched your teeth and drove your leg, and therefore Amarok, down with a yell. Shifting, you kept your leg against his chest, and took one of his arms in your hands and pulled back while dropping the heel of your other leg as hard as you could into his abdomen. You managed to ram your heel into him twice before he caught your ankle in his free hand. Sucking in a breath, you immediately let go of his arm and crunched your torso to drop your elbow into his face but he raised his knee at the same time. Swiftly, you moved your arms so he hit your forearms instead of your cheek or nose. He let go of your ankle and you used the split second of freedom to roll backwards over your shoulder and back onto your feet. Amarok pushed himself up as well.

Your heart pounded and chest heaved. Alright, so… I’m obviously at a major strength disadvantage. But that’s no different than how I am with the boys when we train.

You and the male stepped around the rocks while you slowly circled each other and waited to see what the other would do.

I need to distract him. Make him start talking. See if there’s anything I can use to play with his emotions.

It typically would have been difficult to figure out how to start talking with someone in this situation, but something had been nagging you in the back of your head since before you’d started fighting so you mentally said fuck it and decided to go with that to start an utterly convenient conversation.

You sucked in a deep breath and tilted your head while keeping your eyes on the male. “Your name. I’ve heard it before. Who are you?”

“I’m my master’s loyal subject.” Amarok stopped moving and spread his arms wide. “His doorway and his tool. My purpose in life is to aid him in burning down the world.”

His doorway…? Is he the one Uzjuk latched on to? Your eyes expanded and darted over to the swirling black smoke which was floating over Jimin’s body. Holy fuckballs, is that raging vape cloud Uzjuk!?

But it was a mistake to look away. The moment your gaze shifted, Amarok ran forward and jumped off a rock toward you. He kicked at your side and you brought your unaware attention back to the male right as his leg made contact with your ribs. Stumbling back several steps, you winced and pressed a hand to your side but refocused to block his next kick. Dodging his quick follow-up punch, you rammed your fist just below his sternum, making him double over a bit, then swung your other fist at his cheekbone. While his head whipped sideways, you shifted your weight and did a double roundhouse kick at his shoulder than face. Both were deterred by his arm but you hastily planted that leg back on the ground and twisted so your other foot spun toward him. As Amarok leapt out of the way, you lunged forward for another punch but the male kicked your thigh and made you stagger back.

You caught your breath and placed your hand to your thigh before returning it in front of your face. “The world doesn’t deserve it.”

“Neither did my family,” Amarok angrily spat out while peering at you, “They didn’t deserve to suffer and die yet they still did. The world shall be no different.”

Then the male snarled and stepped forward to swing his fist toward you once more. You leaned back and blocked it with your elbow but as you were paying attention to his upper body, the male hooked his foot behind your ankle. Before you knew it, he was forcing your leg out from underneath you. With a yelp you fell yet again, this time landing on your side and banging your head against the hard earth. White spots danced in your vision while the draikensu went to stomp on you but you were able to roll back just in time. You only made it a few feet away but Amarok didn’t press after you. Instead he just watched as you dizzily came up to a crouch then returned to your fighting stance. Blowing some stray hair out of your eyes, you shook your hands out to rid some of the tension coursing through you and bounced on the balls of your feet a couple times.

I’m like tiny Steve Rogers. I can do this all day.

Chest rising and falling very quickly, you tried to slow your breathing down as you and the male considered each other.

Oh shit, right, distract him! He mentioned his family!

“Your family…? Your family wouldn’t want you going around killing people. They would want you to be good-”

“Good?” Amarok let out a ridiculing laugh. “There is no good in the world, girl. Just temporary illusions that eventually turn into ash and smoke.” The male stepped up onto rock and looked down at you. “Besides, it doesn’t matter what they want anymore. They’re dead. Nothing is bringing them back but I can make the world feel their pain. Feel my pain.”

You squeezed your hands into fists and looked up at the male in incredulity.

I can’t tell if it’s all him or Uzjuk’s influence but I think he’s insane. I get the whole retribution storyline but damn… the whole world?

Suddenly you heard a quiet groan off to the side, and out of the corner of your eyes you saw Jimin flop over onto his stomach, partially raise himself to his knees, and hold his head in his hands.

“My master showed me that the world needs to fall back to its true state of chaos.”  The draikensu inclined his head in Jimin’s direction and lazily hopped off the rock he was standing on. “And it starts with his death.”

Then he began to march toward Jimin.

Ah, shit.

Your feet moved without thinking and you ran up to Amarok. The male shoved an arm out to swat you aside but you dodged and moved in close so you could grab his shoulder for better leverage as you drove your knee into his torso again. He grunted and tried to seize you but in the next breath, you shifted your hands so you could pull the male’s upper body down as you jumped onto his back so his head was between your thighs. Then, with his shoulder and arm still in your grasp, you threw your weight down so you both fell to the ground.

You both sprawled out and, in your peripherals, you saw Jimin finally start to stand up, causing the black smoke to swell and shrink rapidly. Wobbling to his feet, he continued to hold his bleeding and bruised head as he fixed his brown eyes on you.

Hastily, you got to your feet before Amarok and moved so you were directly in the male’s path to your best friend. The draikensu lifted his head and when he realized Jimin was no longer on the ground, he released an irritated yell and pushed himself up.

He took one, two, three large strides forward but with a scratchy grunt, you powerfully planted your foot in the middle of male’s chest so he reeled back a few steps.

“Jimin, go! GO NOW!”

Hearing no response or footsteps running away, you risked a peek behind you while Amarok place his hand against his chest. To your disbelief you noticed Jimin was still standing there staring at you with a mix of confusion, uncertainty, and reluctance on his blotchy and swollen face.

A low noise came from before you so you tore you gaze away from your best friend to see Amarok coming at you with narrowed eyes.

“FUCKING GO ALREADY!” You shouted back at the half-Saeni and raised your foot to kick the draikensu once more but Amarok caught your leg and turned, tossing you aside.

While you skidded against the ground, your head narrowly missing a rock, Amarok calmly walked past you toward Jimin, who was looking back and forth between you and the draikensu in bewilderment and fear.

Fucking Exia, Jimin, you need to yeet out of here!

Clawing your fingernails into the dirt, you hoisted yourself up and sprinted at the draikensu’s back. Then you launched yourself at it. You slammed into him, your unexpected weight making the male teeter forward, and you went to hook your arm around his neck. Though before you could do so, Amarok snarled and reached up to secure his hands around your arm then tugged while bending over. You flipped through the air and onto your back yet again. All the air in your lungs was pushed out, making your body feel tingly and convulse a little. As you struggled for oxygen, Amarok stepped over you. Gasping, you forced your tremoring body to roll over and grabbed his foot.

It didn’t do much to slow the male down. It barely made him falter. He just kept going, getting closer and closer to Jimin as you held on with all you had.

While you tried to hinder the draikensu’s advance, you looked up and met your best friend’s torn expression. As you were dragged across the earth, you gave him a small nod and mouthed ‘go.’ Jimin opened his mouth like he wanted to say something but snapped it closed, then finally turned and ran for the mass of collapsed rock.

Relief numbed your pain as his apricot hair quickly disappeared from sight, blocked by the rocks and the way they inclined and curved away slightly.

Amarok, on the other hand, released a loud, frustrated yell and tried to run after Jimin but you pulled your body closer to his leg so both your arms enwrapped the appendage. He wouldn’t be going anywhere. Not while you were still breathing. You tightened your hold on the male’s leg as his yell faded into a growl while he leaned over to dig his nails into your wrists, making you cry out in pain. When you refused to let go, he cursed you then grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head up and to the side. You whimpered and your grip around his leg unwillingly slackened. Then he sent his fist into your jaw. Your head snapped back and blood began to flood your mouth as your vision went fuzzy, your arms dropped, and you collapsed to the ground. The disorientation only lasted a few moments but Amarok gave you no reprieve as he let out an infuriated noise then kicked you in your stomach.

You curled in on yourself for a second, a sob coming from your lips. Amarok went to turn away from you but you groaned, clenched your aching jaw, and used your trembling arms to push yourself up to your jelly-like legs before spitting out a mouthful of blood at the draikensu while swaying on your feet.

Much to Amarok’s dismay.

An agitated rumble came from the male’s throat while he glared at where Jimin had gone then at you. “I was going to let you live, girl. But now I see you’re just a pest that needs to be disposed of quickly.”

His hand went to his waist and he withdrew his long hunting knife.

You blinked, quirked your head to the side, and snorted, showcasing your bloody teeth. Oh… well, you’re not the only one with a knife, bitch.

Then you wrapped your own hand around the hilt of the ruby-hilted dagger strapped to your side.

Jimin’s head was throbbing and his body stiff as he hurriedly climbed over the mess of collapsed rock leading to the cave entrance. He could feel how swollen and puffy his face was without even touching it and every time he swallowed he could taste the blood coating his inner mouth.

You’re nearly there Jimin. Keep going. The mother goddess urged the half-Saeni gently. Straight into the cave. You can make it.

The sun beat down on his back while he planted his foot against the flat side of a rock and leapt to the next one several feet away. But as he jumped off his leg buckled, making him fall forward and land awkwardly. One of his palms slid against the rock’s jagged edge which sliced the skin open. His knee banged into the hard fragment and he felt his flesh tear open on through his pants. His feet settled on smaller stones while he hunched over the rock and breathed heavily. He didn’t even feel the pain really, too distracted and overwhelmed to register the new injury. It just felt warm. Probably from the blood. Steadying himself on the rock, he closed his hand into a fist, causing crimson to leak out around his fingers and make a small pool, then he leaned his forehead against the sun-warmed rock.

He could hear the thuds and grunts coming from your fight with the draikensu. He hated himself for placing you in danger. For leaving you. For running away.

But he knew he had to.

Don’t throw away their valor.

He had to trust you. You would hold off the draikensu so he could get to the rift and close it.

That was his job. His responsibility.

Get up Jimin. You can do it.

Jimin straightened and ran his hand through his apricot hair, staining some of the strands crimson. Then he looked up toward the entrance of the cave that was so close. Then he nodded to himself and hiked himself up onto the rock so he could press on.

Not even a minute later, he was crouching at the cavern’s entrance.  A constant plinking sound echoed all around him. His brown eyes glanced up at the water dripping off the ceiling that was causing the sounds as they hit the rock or puddles below. Shifting his gaze to peer into the darkness before him, he shivered at the cold draft blowing out from the cave.

Jimin took a single deep breath and lowered his body to the damp ground.

Then he began crawling inside.

While they ran through the forest, Tae looked sideways at his brother in concern. Jungkook’s peridot eyes were focused and his pace hadn’t wavered once, but what worried Tae was how ragged his breathing was.

As well as the blood still trickling out of the male’s back.

They had been running for about thirty minutes. A third of that time was just getting out of the field and into the forest with as few confrontations as possible. Luckily, though, they hadn’t encountered any draikensu since entering the trees. They had been able to just sprint directly toward their destination, which Yoongi had told them was to the northwest.

The mint-haired Saeni, being the talented magic user he was, had figured out how to siphon energy from Namjoon after a montage of curses and just a few failed attempts. As Yoongi’s hands had begun to glow brighter and brighter with magic, the leader of the kiela had gotten more and more tired until he passed out. It was then that Yoongi ceased extracting his energy as to not harm Namjoon. Then the magic user used most the energy to heal Jungkook’s wound. Not completely, but enough so any damage to internal organs was gone and it wasn’t as deep. Then Yoongi used the remainder of the taken energy to locate both Jimin and Y/N, and found they were close to each other. The magic user’s eyes had started to droop and he’d murmured they needed to go straight to the northwest. Yoongi had crawled out from the branches and pointed in the direction before exhaustion overtook him once more and he slumped to the ground.

Very shortly after, Tae and Jungkook had left.

Both Saeni knew it would still be hard to find you and their brother with only a cardinal direction to guide them but it was substantially better than searching completely blind. Not that Tae thought Jungkook wouldn’t have done that if he’d had too.

But honestly, Tae would have still been right beside Jungkook even if that had been the case.

He wanted to find Chim and his little scorja. He was extremely worried for them.

But he was also worried for his younger brother. He didn’t know how long Jungkook would be able to keep going like this.

After the duo leapt over a skinny fallen tree, Tae took in how Jungkook’s hands were trembling and suggested they take a quick break.

Jungkook firmly shook his head in refusal.

“Just so you can catch your breath.”

“I’m fine,” the burgundy head replied through his teeth.

“Kook-”

“I said I’m fine, hyung. We need to keep going.”

It was apparent nothing was going to stop Jungkook, not even the risk of collapsing from blood loss. So, Tae just reluctantly resigned to the fact and continued running.

You hastily backed up as Amarok slashed down toward your thigh then jabbed at your throat. You stopped the blade from entering your flesh both times by blocking his arm with your hand. The male was bleeding heavily under his arm from where you had managed to get inside his defense a minute ago and stab him but he still wasn’t letting up.

Analyzing his movements, you bent at the waist and the edge of his knife cut through the air where your head had just been. Immediately after, you had to duck to the side to avoid his fist. Then you deterred the next thrust of his blade and lunged forward yourself, but Amarok sidestepped, turned, and used his free hand to redirect your arm while slashing his knife across your forearm. Following the motion of his blade, the male went to move behind you and cut the back of your neck but you quickly dove forward to safety.

Instead of going after you, Amarok used your escape as a means to escape himself. He turned and began running toward the rocks where Jimin had gone. Popping back up to your feet, you swore and flipped the ruby-hilted dagger in your hand so the blade was in your palm.

I know I suck ass at throwing knives but please Exia let it work this one time.

Even though the blade wasn’t meant for throwing, you did your best to channel your inner Hobi as you raised your elbow and threw the dagger.

It rotated through the air… then the hilt bounced off Amarok’s back.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

But you had had an inkling it wouldn’t work so you had sprinted after the blade as soon as you had released it. It was a miracle it even made contact with the draikensu so although it had not harmed the male like you’d hoped, it did create a distraction that allowed you to catch up with him.

Coming up behind the male, you sent your red, bloody knuckles into his spine, and he twisted around to slash at you with his blade while releasing an angry growl. You leapt out of the way and he faced you yet again with an enraged expression. He stepped toward you and as he went to stab at your side, you saw a brief opening and took it. You kicked your leg up, straight into his groin. At the same time, you caught his forearm that held the knife and used his motion to tug it beside your opposite hip. Then you placed your other hand over his and forced his wrist down while pressing his arm back toward his body quickly. A sharp crack came from his wrist and he hissed as his hand dropped the knife. Then you pushed your hips forward and jumped up, throwing your right leg over his shoulder and the other around his torso under his arm while leaning your upper body back. Feeling your weight around his neck, Amarok instinctively tried to raise his body but it was too late. You kept your head lifted as you hit the ground to not crack your skull and used your left hand to force his arm across his body then to help pinch your leg that was over his shoulder to around the back of his neck. You shifted your other leg up so you could lock your right ankle underneath it to secure the triangle choke. You squeezed your thighs together, beginning to cut off the male’s oxygen and blood flow, while also wrapping an arm around his leg to bring yourself close and further restrict his movements. Breathing through your nose, you focused on maintaining the grapple as Amarok struggled for air and tried to lift you and slam you down but was unable to.

Suddenly, the sky darkened above you and you looked up to see the smoke was now surrounding you and Amarok.

“Master… please… help,” the male croaked out weakly.

Help? How can the vape cloud help? Just pass out already!

Then Amarok began convulsing and he opened his mouth in a silent scream.

What the fu-

And then you felt it too.

A hot and searing pain that felt like it was burrowing deep into your brain.

His armor and skin were soaked from the water that trailed down the earthen walls and collected in puddles on the cavern floor.  Jimin’s teeth clacked together while he continued moving his body through the cold, quiet darkness. Thanks to his draeva connection he was still able to see through what he believed was an abandoned wolf den and as he rounded a tight corner the half-Saeni saw that the small cave seemed to widen a bit up ahead.

Crawling forward, a glow began to peek out from the underground chamber but it wasn’t the sun or phosphorous on the rock. It was an odd, unusual light. Murky and dark. Only a shade or two brighter than the pitch-black darkness.

Pulling himself completely into the wider space, Jimin then gaped as the source of the light came into full view. It almost looked like a sinister, shifting portal of thick smoke. It reminded him of the cloud of swirling smoke that had been with the draikensu male. The center was the darkest part, so black it nearly blended in with the rest of the cave. The margins, however, were tinged in a mixture of ashen grey and deep red.

There it is, the wretched thing.

“That’s the rift?” Jimin maneuvered himself to his knees and tentatively approached it until he was just an arm’s length away.

The air around it seemed to be even more frigid and chilling.

Yes. You did well Jimin. The soft voice of Illai soothed him. I will take over now.

The half-Saeni’s posture went rigid and his eyes shifted, turning into an every-changing array of colors like a rippling rainbow.

Then Illai lifted Jimin’s hand and laid his fingertips against the ice-cold center of the rift, and seconds later a white light started to burn away at its grey and red edges.

You screamed.

It felt like your mind was being shredded apart with claws made of molten lava.

Letting go of Amarok’s leg, you clutched at your head. Your own legs were still wrapped around the male’s neck, but the hold was quickly loosening. You were in too much pain to keep squeezing your thighs. You couldn’t focus on it. Not when your brain felt like it was being squeezed and dug into. The smoke continued to whirl above you and the corners of your vision started to grow dark and fuzzy. Tightly shutting your eyes, hot tears started to leak past your eyelashes and trail down your cheeks as you writhed on the ground.

Amarok, who was still twitching and barely conscious, reached up over his head and weakly pushed and pulled at your legs. You couldn’t even fight him off. Your legs unwound from his neck and heavily fell to the side while a pained, groggy inhale came from the male as oxygen flooded into his lungs and he crumpled to his knees. He was basically right on top of you, his knee pressing into your thigh but he was still incapacitated as the burning agony pounded into both your minds.

Until it suddenly wasn’t.

It stopped.

Your body jerked once then you laid limply on the earth, no longer in pain but feeling sluggish and feeble and out of breath. A relieved sob escaped past your lips and you curled into a small ball at the abrupt disappearance of the pain while you slowly cracked your eyes open.

What was that… fucking ow it still hurts.

You watched Amarok struggle to his feet, somewhat amazed he could even move after that. “Thank you, master.”

The dark smoke overhead stopped moving.

“Master?”

The smoke seemed to shudder and it pulsed violently.

“Master!?”

The edges of the smoke turned grey and wisped away.

Still panting, you sniffled and rolled onto your back as the rest of the smoke became discolored.

Then it dispersed entirely.

Blinking, you stared up in confusion as Amarok shrieked for his master. But the smoke didn’t return. Uzjuk had vanished.

… Jimin…

You whipped your gaze over to where he’d gone. Steeling your mind and body, you forced yourself up as your heartbeat loudly thumped in your head and the urge to vomit surged.

You had just gotten back to your feet when Amarok pivoted and glared at you with pure hatred and anger etched over his face.

Wobbling slightly, you raised your chin and peered back at him as confidently as you could even though you wanted to keel over. “It’s… It’s over, Amarok. It’s done.”

A low rumble came from the heaving draikensu’s chest and he stepped forward, sending his fist into your face so hard you fell down with a cry. When you tried to stand, he picked you up slightly, turned, and threw you back to the ground. As you bounced and slid against the hard earth, you saw a flash of red in your peripherals. Tilting your aching head to the side, you saw Jungkook’s ruby-hilted dagger glinting in the sunlight only a couple feet away. Breathing deeply, you returned your eyes to the draikensu and saw he was looming over you with his fist raised. He was going to punch you again. Lunging to the side, you dodged his fist and wrapped your hand around the dagger’s hilt. Twisting back around, you swung the blade up in an arc. It missed Amarok though he had to rear back to avoid it. Staggering to your feet, you adjusted your hold on the weapon and lifted it in front of your face. Baring his teeth in a growl, he went for you again but you deflected his arm with your free hand and dragged the dagger across his belly.

Then, with a defiant yell, you plunged the blade deep into his neck.

Jin heavily parried the draikensu’s axe and stepped to the side to dodge their next swing. The raven-haired Saeni lifted his longsword but as he went to thrust forward the draikensu’s eyes widened and she took a couple steps back. Her axe dropped to the ground and she looked around like she wasn’t sure what was going on.

Furrowing his brows, Jin stayed on guard but the field seemed to suddenly grow quiet as most of the other draikensu also seemed to stop fighting.

A few seconds passed.

No more screams.

No more ringing metal.

No more chaos.

Blood sprayed in the air as you yanked the dagger out of Amarok’s neck. Crimson coated the blade and dripped off the tip as you stepped back and the male collapsed to his knees. He raised his hand over the wound but it was futile. Blood poured out past his fingers and drenched his chest. It gurgled out over his lips as he tried to breath.

You stood over him, eyes narrowed, while he bled out.

And less than a minute later, his body sagged over.

Fucking finally.

You braced your hands on your knees, taking in large gulps of air and closing your eyes as your head reeled and spun and your thighs spasmed.

Jimin… I need to find Jimin…

Tightly gripping the ruby-hilted dagger, you straightened and began making your way to the rocks.

It suddenly seemed too cold in the shade of the trees as you jogged, and your body trembled while you hoarsely cried out for your best friend. “JIMIN!”

“JI-JIMIN!”

You reached the rocks and started climbing up them.

Where is he? Why isn’t he answering?

A lump began to form in your throat and you tripped and fell down.

“Y/N!?”

Your head shot up and you saw him stumbling out from around the corner.

A sob ripped its way past your lips and you both rushed toward each other, clawing and stumbling over the rocks.

Slamming into your best friend so hard you both almost lost your footing; you hugged him and buried your face in his shoulder while he wrapped his arms around you. He was wet, cold, and shivering, but you were just as wrecked. Trembling in each other’s arms, your tears soaked into his already damp armor while his dripped onto your bare neck.

“I’m so sorry,” he blubbered against your skin while smoothing his hand over your hair. “I’m so sorry for leaving you.”

Shaking your head, you mumbled how it was okay, you were okay, he was okay, you were both okay.

Eventually, you and Jimin settled down. The tears had left tracks through the dirt on your faces and your bodies were barely holding up but you pulled away so you could take in your best friend’s face. It was battered, bloody, and swollen yet you smiled softly and placed your hand against his cheek lightly.

He leaned into your touch and sighed before reaching up and gently taking you hand in his. “Let’s get out of here.” Then he began to lead you down the rocks.

It was a slow process. The adrenaline in both your bodies was starting to ebb, allowing you to really feel how much you hurt. Which was a fucking lot. It was painful just standing but you had to keep moving. It was time to get back to the field. To get back to the rest of your family.

When you had almost reached the bottom, you were holding Jimin’s hand to keep yourself steady as you jumped to the next rock when the apricot head suddenly asked if you’d seen Mingi.

“Last I saw he was holding back a wolf so I could keep going.”

You tensed and looked away while you bit your lip, memories and emotions from the hazel-eyed Saeni’s death flooding back to you.

“What?”

Expelling a sad puff of air, you just told him to follow you. Limping past Amarok’s body and around the stray rocks, you led him to where Mingi had fallen.

“Oh,” Jimin said quietly as he gazed at the arrows sticking out from the guard’s chest.

The leaves swayed above you, a hint of blue sky and sunlight peeking through them as you approached the male. “He, um, he was really injured from the wolf. But he was still determined to come protect you, but… he… he ended up dying while saving me.” Dropping to your knees beside the Saeni, you had to press your lips together and take a deep breath.

Reaching over, you closed his eyelids; shutting those beautiful hazel eyes forever. Then, as you carefully removed the arrows from his body, Jimin spotted his sword on the ground and went to retrieve it. You both gently laid the sword over his body and folded his hands over the hilt.

A single tear trailed down your cheek while you thanked Mingi for his friendship and sacrifice in a choked-up voice. “I’ll miss you… please rest well.”

Jimin hung his head for a moment then stood up and rested his fingers on your shoulder. “Illai says he will only know peace from now on.”

You looked up at him in shock. “You can still hear her?”

He simply nodded while gazing down at Mingi, his face filled with guilt, before he helped you to your feet. You whispered one final goodbye to the Saeni and put your arm around Jimin to support his body as he also supported you.

Breathing heavily, you both started to shuffle through the trees and head back toward the field.

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[aenwoedbeannaa]

Promise Me | Geralt x Reader

Warnings: Some violent, bloody monster-hunting, but also just a lot of fluffy fluff.

Summary: You’ve been traveling with Geralt and some of his companions for a few weeks, picking up some Witcher skills along the way. One moment of overconfidence leaves you seriously injured, and some deeply buried feelings come to the surface. 

Notes: Listen, I am a strong woman who loves other strong women but sometimes ya girl just wants a nice sweet Geralt to the rescue fluffy one-shot, and that is why we are here today. :’)

Sleeping doesn’t come easy on the road, despite the basic elixirs that the Witcher offered you. Valerian root, chamomile tea – nothing quite seemed to work. So, it is no surprise when you wake up with a start in the cold morning light.

Before jumping up and grabbing your sword, you try to remember the advice the Witcher has imparted on you throughout the journey. You take a moment to even your breathing, willing your heart rate to slow down. Of course, you’re no Witcher, so it doesn’t quite work the same, but it does help you gain some clarity.

In this case, you realize that you are, in fact, not imagining the sound of squishy footprints through river mud, nor are you imagining the strange gurgling sounds that immediately call to mind the morbid blue humanoids that seem to plague every body of water on the continent.

Drowners.

Upon listening for a few more moments, you calculate that there must be about three. Three drowners, after some of the monsters you’ve encountered on the road, seem like nothing. You grab you silver sword. Geralt gave it to you several days before. He said it was an old one of his old ones – though you have your suspicions based on its seemingly flawless condition and the fact that a recent contract had landed the White Wolf an overflowing purse of coin. It was also quite suspiciously the perfect size for you. You never pushed for answers, though. Geralt could be a brick wall when he wanted to be – which was most of the time.

You silently pulled on your travel leathers and slipped the scabbard over your back. Dressed like this, you felt much less like a common village wench and much more like a Witcher-Girl. You made absolutely certain that your steps were silent as you pushed open the canvas tent you’d been sleeping in, bracing yourself against the chill of the morning air.

As expected, there was no movement from any of the other tents. You’d save a whole lot of ruckus by taking care of the little hellions now.

You stealthily moved along, using trees and bushes to keep you out of the Drowners’ line of sight as you approached the river, smiling to yourself when you realized that you were indeed correct – there were three of the mutated beasts wandering around towards the shore.

You tried to picture the way Geralt moved – like fighting was some kind of complex dance – as you inched your way toward the riverbed. You were actually quite good at it, having been forced to take dancing lessons as a child back when you lived in the lap of luxury. Now, you just added a sword.

Your first strike was lightning-fast, for an ordinary human, and your pirouette and parry turned counterattack was equally as good (if you did say so yourself). You slashed the second drowner straight across the chest, from shoulder to shoulder. Blood sprays in your direction, and suddenly you feel even more like you really are some sort of Witcher-Girl.

The thing you hadn’t exactly planned for, however, was the third of the drowners. It had been hanging back farther than the rest, and you’d sort of assumed that you would have be able to give a few easy swipes of the gleaming silver and be done with it.

If only drowners weren’t so fast.

It came from nowhere, slashing out its webbed claws. They scrapped across the studded leather tunic you wore. Thankfully, they weren’t sharp enough to cut through, but it was enough to knock you back several feet. An unfortunately placed rock was the last thing you stepped on before falling onto your back, having twisted your ankle.

Fuck. This was not part of the plan.

You try to take Geralt’s advice – it should be instinct that you act on. But then again, he had years and elixirs powerful enough to kill an ordinary human to help him with that. You just had a few weeks of training.

Still, somehow, you manage to force your sword up against the drowner, which is now viciously trying to claw at your throat. You wince, realizing too late that the sword was turned the wrong way, sharp edges out – which was helpful in that the drowner backed up with a screech, blood pouring from a new nick across its shoulders, but also bad for you because the sharp silver managed to dig into your arm as well.

You try not to think about the way your sleeve is quickly dampening and hop up onto your feet, sword held out with your other hand. You parry a few times, letting the creature exhaust itself by throwing itself at you again and again, eventually losing its footing and stumbling back, as you had before.

Seeing your opportunity to attack, you rush forward aggressively, not hesitating a moment before grabbing the pommel of your silver with two hands and thrusting down, straight through the drowner’s heart. You heave a sigh of relief when it twitches only a couple times before falling completely limp, dead.

The adrenaline coursing through your veins had you pretty much blind to the fact that your arm was badly injured, and as it faded, you began to feel woozy at the loss of blood. Still trying to ignore it, you pull your sword out of the drowner corpse and walk over to the stream to rinse the blood from the blade, doing your best to ignore the fact that the water is turning redder and redder with as blood pours from your arm.

These last few weeks with the Witcher have, evidently, made you forget the fact that you are just an ordinary human, and could get hurt like one – even if you were picking up on Witcher fighting techniques at an alarming rate.

Your steps start to falter as you sheath your silver and head back to camp. As you walk, you pull your old steel dagger out of the sheath strapped to your thigh, pulling at your tunic in attempt to cut a strip of fabric to tie around your arm to staunch the bleeding.

Camp is in sight now, but it is becoming blurry as walking becomes even more difficult. The dagger slips from your hand, landing on the grass with a soft thud. You follow soon after, with a much louder thud that you don’t hear. The world is black.

                                      *                     *                     *

You come to your senses after an immeasurable amount of time. You smell the sharp scent of herbs and astringent, and you feel a numbness in your arm, which you vaguely remember should be in pain for some reason. As you open your eyes and see the white canvas of your tent, the memory comes flooding back.

You attempt to lift your head, but you are immediately stopped by a deep, gravelly voice. “Lay still, you lost a lot of blood.”

Fuck. He was probably the one to find you, knowing his Witcher senses. He was probably furious. The camp was supposed to head out today – and here you were, holding it up.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, eyes meeting his, expecting to see them narrowed, expecting his face to be hard as stone, angry.

But it’s not. His expression is… soft. You don’t quite understand it. You’d wandered off from camp, like you weren’t supposed to, and you’d gotten yourself injured. Certainly, nobody else was happy. Geralt, ever in a hurry, should be furious.

“You wander off, kill three drowners by yourself while the rest of us blissfully sleep through it, get injured, and the first thing you do is apologize?” You’re still somewhat delirious between the loss of blood and whatever they must have given you to help with the pain, so you are almost convinced you might be hallucinating this whole thing.

But then you feel his calloused hand on your forehead, which you only then realize is sticky with sweat. He brushes a few strands of hair from your face, looking down at you with gentle eyes. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

You attempt a noncommittal shrug, but your left arm won’t listen, and you wince at the sharp pain. His free hand immediately rests on top of your hand, the pad of his thumb gently caressing your knuckles. “Best if you try not to move much,” he says seriously. “Y/N, you lost a lot of blood.”

“I couldn’t have lost that much!” Your attempt to protest is somewhat shattered by the fact that even speaking feels exhausting – which Geralt reminds you once again is because you lost so much blood.

“Baby, shh.”

His words, coupled with his hands – one stroking the side of your face and one holding your own – seem to surprise both of you equally. There had been several moments the last few weeks where you had suspected that maybe he reciprocated the feelings that you had kept bottled up tight, but you had never asked – there was no appropriate time to ask. But now…

You look up at him through sleepy eyes, willing yourself to speak again. The reality that, clearly, you’d been hurt much worse than you thought was starting to settle in.

The Witcher must have been able to hear your quickening heartbeat, or read the fear in your eyes, because the next thing he does is ease himself down next to you – taking care to lay on the side of your non-injured arm - on the blankets strewn on the floor that acted as a bed.

“You’re going to be ok,” he says softly, once again stroking your hair. You sigh, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch.

“Geralt,” you speak quietly, nervous about what his response will be. “Stay? Please?”

The Witcher responds by inching closer to you, and you instinctively nuzzle into his chest, relishing in the warmth, the feeling of his body next to yours.

“Well, I’ve been sitting here for half a day, I’m not planning on leaving now.” He says it with a wry smile, but you can see a glimmer in his eyes you hadn’t notice before as you blink up at him. “But you have to promise me you never scare me like that again, Y/N.”

Your eyes flutter closed again as you settle into his warmth, “I promise,” you mutter against his chest.

                                     *                     *                     *

Taglist: @divaroze, @fairytale07, @jesseswartzwelder, @haru-ririchiyo, @unnamedmaincharacter, @lazilyscentedwerewolf, @geeksareunique, @evyiione, @valkyriepuff, @p3nny4urth0ught5​, @moonlightreetops,  @divineslipcast

[firemblem-fics]

Running With the Wolves [3]

<< | >>

-> Pairing: Yuri Leclarc x Fem!Reader

-> Modern!Au | Gang!Au | Enemies to Friends to Lovers

-> Word Count: ~2.4k

-> Warnings: Violence, Blood, Intense Scenes, Alcohol Mention, Someone legit gets shot, Other things I probably forgot about

-> Summary: You were just a normal college student, trying to find her way in a new place. You didn't mean to get caught up in the wrong crowd. You just wanted coffee, but now you're running with the wolves.

-> A/N: hi i’m back hello this took me a little bit to do because after the action scene i simply lost motivation but it’s back i know what i want to do and i WILL do it. also, just an fyi, i, as a writer, do not condone anything that my character, Hiram Chapelle, says or does. Hiram is meant to be an ass and for gods sake he’s quite literally a psychopath. That’s how he’s written. I’m just saying for future reference because Hiram is a shitty person and I plan on keeping him that way LOL

send an ask if you’d like to be on the taglist!

If someone had told you, months ago, that when you moved to Fodlan, you’d be accidentally caught up in gang activity, you’d laugh in their faces.

What a silly notion, You’d nearly cry out of laughter, Fodlan is safe. Nothing happens there.

What a fool you were. Everything was too easy. Life was too simple for there not to be a catch. That’s the funny thing about the universe and her strange ways. There’s always a catch.

Your mother had said that God always tests you. That you’d know in hard times, He was just challenging you. The only thing you knew at this moment was that if God really was real, you’d like to have a few choice words with him.

Your test was only getting more difficult with each step you took. Each limp, actually. The frigid night air numbed nearly every part of your body, except for your ankle. Instead, it burned with a fiery intensity. Your shoe was tight enough to prevent a bit of the swelling, but you needed medical attention soon.

You laughed bitterly- you’d been saying that you needed help for a while now. Your arm, your ankle, and now probably a therapist. Physical and mental help were on your to-do list.

Biting back another shiver, you fumbled with your phone. The screen was black, only showing a little red battery in the middle of it. Dead.

The window you’d jumped through was in the back of the house, facing a patch of woods. In your rush, you didn’t think to run another way to get out, only pushing forward until you had no clue where you’d come from and where to go. Everything was forest. Everything was dark.

Until it wasn’t.

A flash of light shined from behind you and you gasped, running to your left and trying to hide behind a larger tree. The flashlights came closer and you held your breath.

“What doesn’t she fucking understand about you can’t leave?”

“Well, boss, you were a little rude about it-“

“She’s in danger! And she doesn’t even realize it- the seriousness of this situation. I don’t care if I’m rude or not, she’s risking her own life being this stupid.”

You resisted the urge to scoff. Yuri was definitely a rude individual from what you’ve interacted with, but of course he didn’t care.

The lights were getting even closer now. You stepped back and started to run again, ignoring the pain. You’d get help when you were safe. You tried to stay light on your feet, but couldn’t help but crush the fallen leaves under your feet as you ran.

“I hear something that way!” Constance shouted and every light flashed in your direction before the group began chasing after you.

Your heart caught in your throat as you willed your legs to work faster and faster. You’d be okay- you’ll get help when you’re safe. Lungs burning, you surged forwards still and tried to take different turns to make them lose your trail. It didn’t work.

“Y/N, stop!” Hapi yelled out.

You didn’t answer, still running. Suddenly, you were airborne. Your feet flew off the ground and you landed two feet in front of a tree root, sticking up from the ground. You were hyperventilating- they had caught up with you.

Before they could reach you, Yuri also stumbled over the root. His flashlight and handgun both flew out of his hands, skidding to a stop in a puddle of mud in front of you. You lurched forward, grabbing the gun and pointing it at the group. It was just Balthus, Hapi, Constance, and Yuri, but you still felt helpless. They could easily overpower you, but you weren’t giving up without a fight.

“Stay back!” You cried, your finger sitting shakily on the trigger, “Don’t come any closer!”

Hapi put her hands up. “We don’t want to hurt you- we want to keep you safe!”

“Keep me safe? By making me some bad guy in a gang that I never even asked to be a part of?”

Yuri scoffed and tried to step closer, but you quickly aimed the gun at him. “You think we did?”

“No more. Don’t come close, I’m warning you.” You could only utter a few words.

The leader of the Wolves ignored this, putting his hands out in front of him, “Drop the gun and this will be okay-“

“STAY AWAY!” You were screaming at this point. Everyone tried to shush you, but you couldn’t stop. Hysteria did such cruel things.

“Y/N-“

“NO!”

You closed your eyes and pulled the trigger, your arm injury hurting slightly from the recoil. Constance yelled out, grabbing onto Yuri, who seemed to fall in slow motion. Your head was spinning. Stars seemed to twinkle in the trees and bushes in front of you instead of staying in the sky like they should.

You swayed for a moment, watching the three try to help their leader. Blood seeped out of the right side of his abdomen. You tried to stay awake, but soon the gun fell out of your hand and you went limp beside it.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Your mind was awake before your body. You could feel the velvet sheets beneath your fingertips and smell the comforting french vanilla aroma that wafted through the Wolves’s house. It was warm- almost too warm for your comfort. Or maybe it was the fever you were running from stress.

You tried to smack your lips together, cringing when the inside of your mouth resembled that of a desert. You needed water.

Peeling your eyes open, you groaned. The lamp beside the bed was too bright, contrasting greatly against the still-dark sky. How long were you out?

You sat up on the bed, feeling sore, but brushed it off and trudged towards the door. You opened it and headed towards the stairs when you heard voices in a room across from you, two doors down.

“She’s already caused too much harm. I say we let her go and let natural selection take its course.”

You scoffed. Typical Hiram- rude ass.

“No- no. We brought her into this, the universe has basically ordered us to keep her safe. If any Eagles see her on the street, she’s done for.” Hapi reasoned.

“That might be a good thing-“

“Hiram-“

“She shot Yuri! He’s not waking up because of her!”

The silence that followed his outburst made your heart clench. You didn’t mean to actually hit him- you just meant it as a warning shot. Hell, you didn’t even know your aim was that good.

“He’s going to be fine. In the meantime, we need to contact Claude or Dimitri and see what’s happening.”

Claude? Claude, the boy at the pizza shop? You rolled your eyes. Of course he’d be a part of this- whatever this is.

“What if they’re siding with her?” Constance asked worriedly.

“Trust me, if it’s anything that Claude’s against, it’s an imbalance of power. As for Dimitri, I’m not sure.”

Your hands began to shake again and you blinked rapidly, trying to push away the looming realization that no, this wasn’t a joke, and yes, these college kids are in a fucking gang. You supposed a part of you didn’t want to believe it until now, but it crashed onto you like a bag of bricks.

These people have hurt others. Killed them. You hurt someone too- you shot a man. A man who apparently is trying to keep you safe.

Continuing to blink, this time biting back tears, you walked down the stairs into the kitchen. Grabbing a glass from the counter, you filled it up in the sink and began chugging.

One glass.

Two.

Maybe if it was alcohol, you’d feel a little better. But it wasn’t. And you didn’t.

More footsteps resounded from the stairs, making their way through the living room and into the kitchen. Hapi entered first, followed by the other four. She gave you a tight smile, choosing to mess with some papers that still rested on the kitchen table.

The papers were frenzied and unorganized- they must have really rushed out once they realized that you’d left.

Hiram walked past and bumped your shoulder rather harshly, making you spill your third glass of water down the front of your shirt. You hissed, wanting nothing more than to yank out those snowy locks of his, but he was definitely armed and no doubt dangerous. You valued your life a little too much to mess with the little man.

Eventually, the group sat down at the table and Hapi patted her hand on the wood, pointing to the empty chair across from her. “Please, Y/N, sit.”

You did so, awkwardly, clasping your hands and putting them in your lap. You didn’t want to look up, already feeling the five intense stares burn into your form.

“It seems our first little talk wasn’t as… effective as it needed to be.” The redheaded girl began. “You were seen with us in the cafe when Edelgard attacked. You let your mouth run, disrespecting her. And I can assure you right now, that the Eagles have all the details on you. Especially since one of their own seemed to recognize you. Like it or not, you’re in this now.”

Hiram snorted, leaning back on his chair and nonchalantly checking his nails. “You’re stuck with this, toots. If you didn’t want to be, you should’ve stuck behind everyone like a good little coward and let the big dogs fight over the bone. You could’ve easily been seen as a citizen and an innocent bystander, but no. Something in you said ‘hey, let’s be a bitch to these people who suddenly barged in here with guns’. If I didn’t know any better, it would seem to me like you were practically,” He leaned forward, his icy eyes boring into your own, “asking for it.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, but still kept shut. He wasn’t necessarily wrong, you could’ve easily decided to let the obviously-more-experienced people deal with it, but in your defense, you didn’t know at the time! You didn’t even think your 5 second long conversation with this Edelgard chick was as negative as they made it out to be.

Crossing your arms, you willed your face to remain stoic. “I just don’t see why she’d have it out for me. I didn’t even do anything that bad.”

“Look, look at my face.” Hiram pointed to the bridge of his nose, where a deep, pale pink scar contrasted against his skin. “Rhys and I used to be… involved with them. Her little lap dog- Ferdinand- did this. Because I made some ill-timed joke.”

You couldn’t help but glance over at Rhys, whose eyes had darkened at the mention of his past. The mention of Ferdinand’s name and his affiliation with the Eagles made you wonder about everyone’s past- how exactly did all of these people get involved with such a deadly life? You didn’t have much time to dwell on it before Balthus spoke up.

“Listen, little one, just stay here and chill out until we can a hundred percent confirm that the Eagles aren’t associating you with us. If they’re not, you’re free to go.”

“And if I am?”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.”

Everyone at the table gasped and turned around to the kitchen entrance, where the strained voice had come from. Yuri was leaned up against the door frame, holding onto his side still. His torso was bare, but the skin was covered by bandages and gauze.

The Wolves shot up out of their seats, rushing over to their leader.

“Yuri!”

“Why are you up?”

“You need rest.”

Yuri just chuckled at them, hiding a wince as his stomach contracted with the laugh. “I’m fine, I’m fine, everything’s cool. Not the first time.”

You still sat at the table, watching as they helped him sit in his place at the head before going back to their own seats. The Wolves really seemed to care about each other, you noticed, and felt a small pang of guilt for causing them so many problems already.

“So, Yuri-Bird, I was explaining to everyone earlier that our best choice of action is to contact Dimitri and Claude and see what’s happening in their little sectors of the world.” Hapi folded her hands on the table, “I know with about a 90% certainty that Claude will be against whatever Edelgard’s doing. Dimitri, I’m not so sure.”

Yuri nodded, taking in the information. “We need stronger people going to Dimitri, then, just in case he sided with her.”

“Which is why I decided that it would be best for all of us to go together. Dimitri has that one assassin with him- the Black Cat or whatever his alias is.”

“It’s Felix. I wouldn't forget the name of such a hunk of a man.” Hiram practically swooned.

Hapi rolled her eyes. “...Right. So, we start with Claude and then move on to Dimitri.”

Rhys raised his hand for a moment, making Hiram shush everyone. He said nothing, only jutting a thumb at you as if asking ‘what do we do about this chick?’ The room was quiet for a moment, then Constance clapped her hands together.

“She can stay and take care of Yuri!”

“What?” You and the previously mentioned man cried out.

He turned and glared at you. “You lot are going to entrust my healing to the same bitch that shot me? No. I’m coming with you all.”

Balthus shook his head. “She’s right, Boss. You could barely walk down here. You need to rest before you get back in the game.”

“Yeah,” Hiram began to laugh, “I’m sure Miss Girl will fix you right up. Maybe she’s better at caretaking than she is running away.”

You returned Yuri’s glare, but quickly switched it to Hiram. He lost his smile and quirked up an eyebrow, as if challenging you to say something. You didn’t.

“We leave tomorrow morning at 8 o’clock. Yuri, you sleep in. Y/N, be up early to change his bandages.”

Hapi stood and stretched, letting out a large yawn before walking out of the kitchen.

The rest of the group followed, Yuri lagging behind as Balthus helped him walk. His lavender eyes pierced into you, obviously extremely angry at you. You shuddered. You absolutely did not want to be alone with him tomorrow.

Dreading morning, you went to your room and tucked yourself back under the velvet sheets, watching the hall light turn off and listening to Hiram’s annoying voice echo throughout the walls.

“Goodnight y’all! Sweet dreams- except for the Princess, of course.”

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taglist: @fairyblue-alchemist @emperor-pizza @flavoredmilktea @sadies-stories-n-things @blviddyd @laurexlance @atomicchocolatecookie @mapesandoval @local-goth-lilz 

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[softschofield]

i’m so perpetually frustrated with the audience members who criticise 1917 for having “no backstory or development for the characters”

like, yes, it’s subtle. because they’re friends and friends don’t talk to each other like “oh, yes, remember all these details of my life i’m conveniently and clearly reiterating for an omniscient third party?” but fuck dude, if you pay attention and know basic facts about war or do your goddam research, there is SO MUCH DETAIL TO THEIR BACKSTORIES

like, just from one TINY DETAIL, you get so much: schofield’s wounded stripe on the left sleeve of his uniform. to get a wounded stripe in world war 1, you had to be officially listed in dispatches as being a CASUALTY, not just having been in a field hospital, meaning the wound was BAD. but, wait, what kind of wound could be so well-hidden and subtle? it could be a gunshot wound or trenchfoot, but there were also two categories that could earn a soldier the wounded stripe: gas, or shellshock. it’s therefore entirely possible that he was suffering from trauma rather than a physical wound before he met blake. given that 60,000 rounds of field artillery and 45,000 rounds of heavy artillery were fired in the first DAY of fighting, and one german described the experience of the shelling as “the earth shook, the sky seemed like a boiling cauldron [...] the ability to think logically, and the feeling of gravity, both seemed to have been removed”, shellshock is a very plausible diagnosis.

so, we know he fought in the somme, and we know which battle he fought, meaning he had been at the front for at the very LEAST 7 months. SEVEN MONTHS. that is a LONG time to be in the trenches, and it is a STAGGERING amount of time to have withstood the horror and still come out of it soft, gentle, and compassionate - think on THAT when y’all say schofield is a flat character. think about what kind of a person could kill and see people killed and live in the constant, crushing, claustrophobic terror and boredom and nothing of the trenches for most likely LONGER than that and stay kind and quiet. NEED i say any the fuck more, NEXT

just from that, we then know that blake did NOT fight in the somme, meaning he arrived at the front some time after november 1916. and, judging by his excited and fearful reaction to the front line trench before a predicted push, there’s the distinct possibility he had never seen a battle, meaning his arrival can be placed after the 18th of december 1916 and that he was still deeply innocent.

if he arrived in december and the film begins on the 6th of april, that ALSO means that they had known each other at the most for just over 3 months, very possibly less, and that they had formed a very close bond in that time.

which brings me to my next point: where are their other friends? all the other soldiers are shown to have close-knit groups, so where are theirs? why is it only them? why are they even friends in the first place? why is blake, a new recruit who had only just arrived, already the same rank as a veteran who had been there for very possibly up to or more than a year? why is a veteran hanging around with a chattery, bushy-tailed, never-seen-battle replacement? why isn’t he hanging out with his own cohort of soldiers who has been there the same amount of time as him and could much more easily relate to his trauma and exhaustion? WHY is a middle-class-sounding guy even hanging around with a lower-class farmboy in the first place?

the most plausible answer? all of schofield’s friends he went through training with are dead - probably in the somme - and he’s purposefully isolated himself to grieve with his survivor’s guilt. he was most likely wounded, lonely, and agonisingly depressed for months until a cheerful replacement arrived at the front and befriended him. and THAT’S where schofield’s fanatic devotion to him comes from, and THAT’S what “he saved my life” means, more than in the literal sense - he was lost, and broken, and numb, and blake saved him.

furthermore, because boy have i got more, blake’s backstory, in case someone out there has seen this film and still wants to hit me with that fucking “we know nothing about these characters”: we know he has an older brother, we know he has a female dog called myrtle, we know they live with their mum in a farm in the countryside with a cherry orchard, and we know his father isn’t in the picture and that he most likely hasn’t been for a long, long time, judging by blake’s lack of bitterness and daddy issues, his closeness with his mother, and the fact he isn’t in blake’s family photo. we know, from interviews, that he enlisted as soon as he came of age because his brother was an officer and he idolised him, and we know he was barely this side of 18.

another thing? the story about wilko. blake knows stories about men schofield has almost certainly known for far longer - but he didn’t interact and wasn’t told, and blake did, and he was more familiar with all of them and had stories to tell that schofield would have known if he’d been sitting in the same circle when the gossip was told. how’s THAT for subtle characterisation, chumps.

and if you just think about it, there’s so much depth to blake’s overly trusting nature - because he’s still naive, he’s still innocent, he’s still young. schofield tucks the things most special or necessary away in his inside pocket, where’s it most safe, because he’s learned lessons the hard way; blake puts them carelessly in his trouser pockets where they could fall out. schofield keeps his rifle with him even as he’s going to fetch water for the german pilot; blake discards his rifle and leaves himself vulnerable. if you just LOOK, it’s all there!

FURTHERMORE, we know schofield is in his early 20s and older than blake. we know he has a much more refined accent, and we know from interviews that he’s from cookham, berkshire. we know he has two daughters and a wife (or a sister and nieces, it’s open to interpretation, go to town), we know he suffers from shellshock, we know he most likely couldn’t face going home on his last leave and instead stayed in france and gave his medal away to a french captain, we know the subject of home is deeply triggering for him, we know he refuses to talk about his daughters, we know that his family haunts him as much as he longs for it, and we know that he didn’t receive any mail from his wife - interesting, considering blake received a letter just telling him his dog was having puppies.

and don’t even get me started on the “lack of character development”. watch me scream here about that.

also, some more backstory because now i’m on a fucking roll: lance corporals were typically the second-in-commands or heads of sections, of which there were 4 within each platoon, each comprising 12 soldiers, it's likely blake and schofield were in command of different sections in the same platoon. where does that come into play? well, scho seemed to slip very easily into a position of authority when the convoy got stuck in the mud, didn’t he? MOVING ON.

more? i have more. another little tidbit: lieutenant leslie asks schofield and blake if they are his relief, and then asks when the fuck they’re getting there when they say they aren’t. he and his men are exhausted and it was said by another soldier that “they had been blown to hell a few nights ago” - they’ve clearly been at the front a long time, which, again, is interesting, considering front line soldiers were typically rotated back into reserve after 8 days. clearly, it’s been a lot longer than that, meaning order and routine have completely broken down and a new type of despair, hopelessness, and mess has taken root. there, more backstory again. 

“oh, it’s just a shitty saving private ryan” “oh, it’s definitely no all quiet on the western front”. FIRST OF ALL, it fucking IS all quiet on the western front, have you literally even read it? baumer goes to such lengths to hardly ever use the word enemy because he doesn’t view the soldiers in the other trenches as bad, just as other innocents swept up in a war that no one should be fighting. he spends a whole chapter sobbing over the only man he’s ever killed in close combat. it’s a hundred times slower than 1917 and it hasn’t even GOT a plot. what the FUCK are you talking about?

oh, and it’s just saving private ryan? show me WHERE. a bunch of soldiers have to go into enemy territory to rescue a soldier because all his brothers have been killed in action and his family wants him home. two soldiers are sent into enemy territory with a letter to stop an attack. i am LITERALLY struggling to think of any more similarities than that and even THOSE are fucking reaching.

also, it’s literally a different war. who are you and why are you saying these things to me i am BEGGING you to please use your fucking head for just a few seconds and actually THINK

“it was so convenient that the river just happened to take him to the devons” ??? “the river. it goes there” did you just entirely miss everything lauri told him? the river quite literally flows exactly past where he is supposed to go, that’s the entire POINT, that’s WHY he jumped into it, because he KNEW it would take him there, oh my GOD

“if the convoy was going exactly where he needed to go, why didn’t erinmore tell him to meet it?” i know it might be a shocking concept, but even a general may not have known exactly the route a convoy of trucks was going to take, especially in the confused wasteland the germans had left behind in their retreat. in fact, he might not have known about the convoy at all if they were coming from a different sector of the front - WHICH, guess what, THEY WERE. captain smith mentioned they crossed no man’s land just outside bapaume, which was much further south, in the old somme battlefields. scho and blake’s trench was somewhere near boyelles, 11km north of bapaume. 

“it’s unbelievable that scho would just sit quietly and relax in the convoy truck, and then get out to give orders and take command, after what he’d just been through - and, plus, he would have gotten to écoust quicker if he’d just walked” there’s this thing called trauma. shock. dissociating. compartmentalisation. just shutting down in the face of too much grief when you don’t have the time nor capacity to let yourself feel it, acknowledge it, register it. in the script, scho is said to “almost disappear into the noise of the men.” and, honestly, the emotional illusion of regaining a scrap of control over a situation he was utterly out of control of would have been enough to prompt him to get out and give orders - but as it is that wasn’t the only thing driving him: he was desperate, and an NCO, and he needed to go. AND “he would have gotten there quicker if he’d walked”?? ???????? first of all, he didn’t know that? second of all, scho said it would take them nine hours AT THE MOST to get there and, given the fact they weren’t attacking until dawn and it was most likely morning when he and blake set off, he wasn’t in a TERRIBLE rush. THIRD of all, it was a direct order from a captain. FOURTH OF ALL, do you really think he felt like walking all that way when a truck was RIGHT THERE?

“there are too many coincidences” films are built on coincidences. they are conveniently put with a character who will end up being their soulmate at the end of it all. they conveniently uncover information that would take people in real life months to find. coincidences drive stories - one of the greatest tools of screenwriting? “don’t write what would happen, write what could happen.” what could happen is that scho finds a teenage girl and an orphaned baby sheltering in a ruined town - in a war. what could happen is that a convoy of trucks heading north towards the battle of arras logically uses the road running alongside a farmhouse. what could happen is that scho jumps into a river that he knows runs east. i just don’t understand what you’re trying to say

“oooohh for soldiers on a life-or-death mission to save one of their brothers, they sure do take their time to sight-see” they’ve seen absolutely fucking nothing but the walls of a trench and the reserve camp for months. also, it’s pretty much just common sense to clear out a building before you turn your back on it and keep walking. also, they had 8 hours, scho ended up getting there in under two hours, and blake is allowed to feel more than one emotion at a time and to be excited about exploring new places, ESPECIALLY when it’s almost certain that neither he nor schofield had ever even been out of england. war or not, the french countryside was still beautiful and blake is allowed to appreciate that. next question 

“how was there a milk pail full of milk if there was no one around to milk the cow” german soldiers were stationed in the farmhouse before they got the order to move out. “they’re not long gone.” they left an hour before hand, someone probably milked the cow before they knew they were leaving. you don’t have to read the script to have a functioning braincell 

“unbelievable that they weren’t killed by the tripwire explosion” it detonated in the tunnels, not in the bunker. they wanted to collapse the escape routes first and foremost. please, i am begging you, use your head

“why did they pull an enemy out of the plane” basic human decency. i cannot believe i have to explain this concept. soldiers in the first world war were especially conscious of the humanity of the men in the other trench. you say blake had no character and then get mad when he’s shown to be so kind and selfless that he’ll burn himself rescuing a german. i don’t know what you want from me, get out of my kitchen 

“schofield was an idiot for stopping to interact with lauri and the baby” he was concussed. he knew there was somewhere he had to be but he didn’t remember what or where until he heard the church bells. also, for people who criticise the “lack of character development and backstory”, ya hate to see character building moments. it clearly wasn’t the first time he’s recited that poem to a baby. make the connection dipshits 

“the germans shot like fucking stormtroopers, how did they not hit him?” point one: one of them was blind drunk. when muller is ranting while scho is strangling baumer, he says that maybe they should head back and that maybe they won’t realise they’ve been missing. the implication? either they’ve gone AWOL, or they’re stragglers from the retreat back to the new line. either way, at least one, and very possibly all of them are off their fucking faces, considering the one by the burning church tripped over his own goddamn feet chasing scho. point two: not in a thousand years would they have expected a lone english soldier to just pop up out of nowhere in ecoust. it was so unexpected that you really can’t blame them for being flustered and confused.

“how the FUCK did the letter survive the river in one piece?” he put it in his tin. there’s literally an entire 30 seconds of the convoy scene just devoted to showing scho tucking it in there. i don’t understand how i have to say this

“it’s too gruesome” aside from the hand in the corpse and the dead horses, where? where? also, it’s the first world war. i can’t believe what i’m hearing. who are you people

“it’s not exciting enough, it’s slow, it’s dull” IT’S SUPPOSED TO SHOW THE CONSEQUENCES AND AFTERMATH OF WAR INSTED OF THE SHALLOW EXCITEMENT OF IT YOU DUNCE

in conclusion, suck my ASS anyone who says they didn’t have backstory or development or that there are ~raging plot holes~. FUCK

anyone who doesn’t want the actual soft and only good person in the world William Schofield to live a happy life in peace just isn’t valid and that’s all i’ll ever say on the matter you fucking degenerate scum rotten tomato reviewers

[backandimbamon]

yes i spontaneously wrote a bamon drabble because i can never get their dialogue out of my head (:

Damon knew Bonnie.

In fact, he knew her so well that he could paint her with ease on an intimidatingly large canvas, blindfolded, holding the paintbrush behind his back.

They spent an aggressive amount of time together, plus he was a vampire so his Bonnie experience was intense- not one detail went amiss.

Like for instance, she liked her natural nails to have length, and never chose nail polish outside of flesh tones; her go-to was a sandy nude but it had to be just translucent enough to reveal a bit of her cuticle.

And the fact that she wasn’t a perfume girl, but more of an earthy oil type. If he could bottle her up in a fragrance it’d be a concoction of patchouli and vanilla, a hint of citrus zest and a bit of a floral scent because whenever she couldn’t sleep at night, she’d sprinkle lavender oil on her pillow which eventually would embed itself in her hair.

Oh, and when he fixed her breakfast she never failed to complain about his pancakes but she would always do an exciting finger wiggle before grabbing a fork and digging in.

The prison world did something to her. To them. He had ample amount of time to observe and truly see the little witch for who she was, an opportunity never granted to him before. In the strange case of forced matrimony, Damon was able to fully see Bonnie Bennet sans overbearing, attention-seeking friends, even if one was his beloved girlfriend.

There was always Elena and after that, Elena’s shadow, and after that, Vampire Barbie but in the prison world there were none and he saw elements of himself attach to Bon Bon like friction particles during traction. And even stranger, Bonnie was completely unaware, behaving in a very Damon-like manner as if she had always done so, like she had coined the phrases, prolonged the banter, carried the stichomythia all along. Like he himself was the imposter.

Seriously, all Bonnie needed was a black leather jacket and a Camaro and she’d be his own personal mini me.

And even when his hope of returning floated away like a stray balloon, forever with her didn’t seem that bad.

To say the silent truth didn’t make Damon’s heart warm would be a lie. Developing a strong eventual friendship with someone who wanted you dead years prior could heat even the iciest of hearts.

So he had positively known her. He had seen her face, day in and day out for months on end; clay brown skin, leaf green eyes, a smirking mouth (another habit she picked up from him, he noticed proudly,) with a bone structure a model would envy, Damon hadn’t thought of any other equation that personified Bonnie Shelia Bennett.

She was very pretty in a way that snuck up on him over the years, he became accustomed to her beauty because he could accept it, it was manageable and tame. Not a loud or demanding beautiful but a sacred and layered one.

Bonnie was basically sugar, spice, everything nice, with chemical x as her magical witchy woo woo.

But who knew something as simple as a new hairstyle could change someone so drastically.

“So what do you think?” She asked, brimming with a poorly contained excitement.

It was a quiet day in Mystic Falls, no monsters to fight, or talisman to acquire. She had just entered the boarding house as Damon grabbed a Bourbon from the kitchen, tumbler held by a lazy grip. His eyelids lowered.

Gone was the modest brown bob, the one that allowed her to be pretty but not intimidatingly so. The hairstyle that he had expected from her; the witch’s default to not draw too many eyes for fear of being unnecessarily seen.

Gone was the beauty that was also his because she shared it with him like a secret gift. Only Damon Salvatore could witness the depth since he was always too close, always too invasive and she had trusted him just enough to let her guard down. It was theirs but now it was hers.

In the place of the brown bob was silken chocolate roots blended into caramel-colored barrel curls that tumbled down her frame. Her face was more intense, skin browner, eyes moodier, lips no longer smirking but pouting instead. She looked more mature and not like the sweetheart that he had come to adore but more like a bombshell, a sex symbol- hot...

It was odd.

He was captivated by her face, how different she looked, an effortlessly sexy appeal that was so un-Bonnie-like that he probably would’ve hit on her if she wasn’t his best friend.

Damon was drinking in her appearance with veiled appreciation but she couldn’t know that. He contorted his brows in thought and brought a cocked hand up to his chin quizzically.

“Hmm...” he said walking closer and examining, if only to buy him more time to stare at her, study her, secretly admire her.

She narrowed her eyes, crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head in annoyance.

“Damon it doesn’t take this long, you either like it or you don’t.” That excitement had digressed to something else as she ran her fingers through her long hair self-consciously.

He stepped up to her, invading her space as he normally did, and pinched a few strands of hair between his thumb and forefinger.

“You’re right Bonnie, I don’t like it.” He said cavalierly, just to get a reaction out of her, just to make her feel a little less gorgeous because it was making him uncomfortable.

She stuck out her chin, arms still folded, “It’s not like I did it for you.”

The statement hung in the air like she had options, almost as if meek Bonnie Bennett had men standing in lines to take her out. Like her excitement to show him her new look only moments before didn’t exist because his opinion was no more important than the dust particles in the air.

“It’s okay if you don’t like it.” She stated, mouth certainly pouting now. He could see her defenses activating. “You’re entitled to your own opinion. This new look has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me and what I want. I think it’s-“

He rolled his eyes. “Save the women-empowerment speech for someone who actually cares, Bon Bon. I love it.”

“What?”

“Your new hairstyle. I don’t like it, I love it.” He over-enunciated.

That bubbling excitement returned, “You do?”

“Yeah. You’re blonde now,” he smirked and stepped even closer if that was possible. He circled her, eyes sliding up and down his Bon Bon to reassert that only he could be the sexy one in their duo, not her. No one else could master sexy the way Damon had. It leaked from him, she couldn’t compete with him for such a title. But Bonnie was barely bothered. Impulsively, her eyes rolled as he continued to walk around her as if he were critiquing an art display. He stopped in front of her.

“Little Miss Blondie Bennett.”

“How original.”

“I know, I put a lot into that nickname.” His hand was in her tresses before he could even register what he was doing, fingertips at her scalp, gliding to the tips of her hair with a light pressure. He released, then swept up the wisps of hair on the nape of her neck and tugged gently. Loose curls fell around his grasp.

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to touch a lady’s hair?” Her eyes were foggy when she gave him a weak glare and gooseflesh rose on her skin.

“Do I look like I listened to my mother?”

He still had her hair in his grip and he tightened it a bit for emphasis before dropping his hand abruptly.

There was something that stretched between them, like maybe it was cruel to have a stunning little witch and an eerily handsome vampire only be friends. Like maybe Damon should keep his hands to himself because other thoughts could arise like why hadn’t he noticed Bonnie like this before? Out of all the women he’s crossed paths with, why was it impossible to imagine the witch as a sexual being? Why did she seem above carnality? And Bonnie could think why she hadn’t allowed herself to be noticed, what made her decide to hide herself, to keep walls so high that it would take years to cave in? She could ask herself what it was that made her a supporting character of her own life; who would she be if she allowed one misstep, had made one wrong move? Would Bonnie Bennett still be Bonnie Bennett if she put herself first?

Blonde hair was a baby step.

The presence of Elena was there and not, omnipotent as the sun between the world of Bonnie and Damon because there was no way they could see each other in any other light outside of friendship. And Damon was seriously questioning why he couldn’t possibly fathom, could hardly bring himself to whisper the phrase, sex with Bonnie.

Bonnie was his first best friend ever. In his multitude of years, he hadn’t blurred that line like he did with the long list of women he met before. He could think of not one platonic friendship in his history of friendships that was with a woman. She really was his first. It was like there was a block in his mind that prevented him from seeing her that way.

It was... strange.

The silence was stretching, as thoughts blossomed between them about themselves and one another. But of course the duration wasn’t too long.

“You went to a salon?” Damon asked, attempting to rid the moment of that gentle intimacy as he held her eyes.

“Yeah, it was this guy from Atlanta. He said a caramel, slightly ash blonde color makes the green in my eyes more intense.” She paused. “Caroline’s gonna flip,”

“Yeah she’s not the only blonde in town now.” His eyes widened. “You’ll probably have to mud wrestle to fight for the official title.”

“How classy of you, Demon. I mean Damon. I think.”

“Ha, ha.”

He could feel himself staring at her in a weird, pensive way, despite his lighthearted banter. She looked like the exact opposite of him bottled up in a human being. She was stunning.

“I’m guessing you didn’t listen to your mother when she said it’s impolite to stare either.” Bonnie chimed smugly.

Damon didn't laugh, his eyes grew sincere as he held eye contact with her in a way that used to make her feel uncomfortable before she became accustomed to it.

“All jokes aside, you are beautiful, Bonnie Bennett."

Those words had never fallen from his lips before. Especially never with such a seriousness. It was a fragile phrase, profound and evocative because she couldn’t recall the last time someone told her that.

Her face grew rosy with flattery and maybe embarrassment. “Thank you, Damon.”

She could see how Elena could have fallen for Damon, regardless of Stefan Salvatore and his handsome, chivalrous nature. Everyone warned you against men like Damon because they could get anything they wanted out of you and the world. A wolf in wolf’s clothing. Somehow frightening and irresistible at the same time. He was the shiny apple, red as sin in the garden of eden, plump and juicy and ready to be eaten. It was only natural for Elena to succumb. Most women would if the apple was dangling so dangerously low to their lips.

But sometimes, like then, he wasn’t so predictable. He took you by surprise when you least expected it. Because he wasn’t just enigmatic, he was flesh, bone, almost human. He had feelings and reactions and even he could be taken aback by his best friend with blonde hair. And even he could appreciate a beauty that wasn’t just Elena’s without feeling guilty.

“Little Blondie Bennett. I could just eat you right up.”

He really could.

[holy-mountaineering]

This spread is for @kaerunotame 

Thank you for donating and waiting!

Your spread is a 5 card Pyramid spread with two crossed cards in the center. In this spread the triangle represents the first formulation of an object or a second dimension in space. There is a sort of beginning, middle and end. When you draw a single dot for 1 and if you add another dot for the number 2, you can create a straight line but add a third dot and now you have a triangle, a shape, an object in two dimensional space. The center card on the bottom of the two represents the internal or emotional central idea of the spread. The top center card represents the external central idea or what action is crucial to what you’re set to do.

Now imagine that you’re looking at one side of a pyramid dead on.

The first and uppermost point of your pyramid is the 3 of Cups, Abundance.

Like all 3s this is the first shape (triangle) the suit takes, in this case Water or emotion, intuition, and connectedness to life. This card is about taking care of your basic emotional shit that connects you to other people in your relationships so that you might build and move on intelligently. The intelligence and communicative abilities of Mercury are in the maternal and intuitive Cancer.

Try to put some basic form to how you’re feeling right now. Don’t focus on a finished product like healing every relationship you’ve ever had, just start putting it together the most basic way you can so you can move forward in a new and more complete place.

The second point, the first to connect to the earth is the 4 of Wands, Completion (of an action or a task). 

This is the boost you get when you finish squaring (4=square)  up the way things are going to be done. This is the fiery growth spurt of spring (Aries) affecting the love, beauty, and green growth of Venus. The trump cards The Emperor and the Empress are Aries and Venus, respectively. You have the “lower” conception of this union encapsulated in this card. This is finishing an important action so you can move on to the next goal.

I’d say that you square up with what you’re doing, finish the task at hand, and that’ll boost you forward into your new cycle of action.

The last point and the corner that then connects again to the top completing the geometry is the confidence booster Herself, XVII The Star, Heh, Aquarius.

Despite its name making me think of water, Aquarius is an air sign. Aquarius the water-bearer is the vehicle for the water she is baring. The life giving water flows through her. It has been said that “Tzaddi is not the Star” and Crowley made it so in the Thoth deck. There is a mystery in this attribution of the Hebrew letter to this Tarot card that I will not go into. 

I read this card called the “Universal Principle of Self-Worth” or trusting yourself as the vehicle of transmission. Her gaze is toward her reflection in the cup above her and she is pouring through herself to the areas below herself.

Trust that you’re a worthy conduit to transmit what nourishes life. Trust that your shit is real and who you are makes you capable. That which is above wishes to come below through you.

The heart of the pyramid holds pure fuckery, the 10 of Swords (mental and communicative) Ruin. 

Astrologically, this is Sol the Sun or your center being split by the duality of Gemini or duplicity. This is like making a decision by not making one. Your intellect is collapsing in on itself due to building duality or otherness conflicting with how you think of you. This is being “of two minds” but they duo doesn’t seem to work together very well. The good news is that they’re damn near done working together at all. 10s are the highest number card or as intense as it gets. 

Try to integrate your splitting and increasingly destructive thinking and/or communicating, make meaning out of this chaos. And hey, don’t worry, it’s peaked and now you have to slide down the mountain of crazy you just climbed.

And the limestone surface of the pyramid is marked with some well needed grounding or the Ace of Disks, the root power of Earth or the material. 

This is the foundation which all your solid structures are and will be built on. This is the very root of your real world/material life situation. While this doesn’t mean you must tear everything down or that there is nothing in your material world that you've built, it does mean you must look at the source from which you've built your material and everyday world. If you have no foundation you can have no structure. If you have a shoddy foundation, you'll have a shoddy structure. Look to what things were like  before you began building. Is there sand beneath you? Are you in a swamp, building castles of stone that will bind to the mud and be pulled down much sooner than later? Did you account for the raise in elevation when you laid your foundation? Look down to the base of what you've made and what you've made it upon.

This is an engineering job, you’ll need tools to measure and level everything out. The occult might not be the best place to find these tools and it is possible that you have issues much more base than you're willing to cop to. There are many tools you can use to look at your foundation provided in psychology and meditation from other sources. The Universe throws us extreme situations and more often than not, this is the only way people see their basest of instincts and behaviors really act out. If you can, take a look at what connects you and what you’re building to the Earth before an earthquake, tornado, volcano, or other act of G-D forces you to pray everything was fine. Check the strength of your foundations before the strength of your foundations are checked.

Get down to the base fundamentals of what is going on in your material (things, money, living situation, literal stuff) and build from the ground up if you must.

In conclusion: 

It is time to focus on new ways to take care of yourself and protect that space you create for yourself. This isn’t just “thinking about it” this is putting together something in the real world that allows you the time and space to take care of your emotional well being. This action then allows you the space to complete some emotional cycle you’ve been going through so that your new growth might begin again! Once you can accomplish these tasks you will be granted that feeling of self-worth that helps you feel like this stuff that is coming through you out into the world, like your art for example is received and deserved. Once you know you Can, you will know that you should. And while your head might still be spinning from some loads of information or news that you feel you had to overcome, despite the odds, is, well, nice and over. You’ve reached the end of this bit of fuckery as least so give your head a break as noted in the first card of the spread. Final note is that this process, which is kinda self-discovery through action in a way, is helping you “get back to the basics” of your real world life and what all that means to you and what you mean to it.

TA DA!! Hope that helps and please let me know if you have any questions or want any clarification on any of the cards and the spaces that they’re in.

Love is the Law!

-FR. N0ught

[edales-drabbles]

Green Thumb 4

First / Previous

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He woke up surrounded by flowers. To be exact he was draped in a canopy of them that had grown around him, covering him from view. More importantly, It was warm. His powers were calm again. No longer bursting from his chest. He had grounded himself. Clicking his neck, Walter slowly uncurled and pulled himself out of the cocoon.

It was bright, too bright to be early. Fuck. He stumbled to his feet. Barrow was going to be furious with him. He was barefoot. When he had taken off his shoes, he didn’t remember but mud was covering him. Searching, he found his phone, now waterlogged. Double fuck.

Tears rolled down his face. So much for just being an hour. He wiped the tears from his face and looked around more. Something had clearly happened. The trees were all lush and blooming, the canopy of flowers was a sign too. He shivered and pulled his coat close. It was only then that he noticed his hair was considerably longer than before. Running his fingers through it, it found it was down to his waist now. Leaves and twigs were tangled into it now too.

“Roses shouldn’t cut their hair,” His voice was hoarse as he reminded himself of the rules. Even thorns tended to keep their hair long. If their powers unleashing did this, there was no wonder. He had a knife in his bike. He could cut more of it off there. The rest would have to wait.

He picked a flower from his new mane and let his magic flow. As suspected, the flower grew, blooming beautifully as it did so. Its roots curled around his forearm and for a brief moment, Walter felt like he was about to fall to pieces. Steeling himself, he gently put the flower on the ground and covered the roots with some soil. He stumbled over the roots of the trees and followed his feet to the path. He didn’t find his shoes which was unnerving. Instead, he had to deal with the undergrowth under him.

Slowly, he found his way, until he stumbled out into the car park. People were waiting. They turned and looked at him in unison, their eyes flickering. “Walter,” Kirsten said her voice relief filled. She was a werewolf, mated to one of the lower-ranked members of the pack but more importantly one of the best trackers the local pack had. “This makes our job easier.”

“What time is it?” Walter frowned, looking up at the sun. Not midday, surely?  

“Around 10,” a voice rumbled from behind him. A strong hand took his shoulders and propelled him forward, catching him as Walter almost tripped. Marvin was taller than Walter by an inch. In general, the wolves were on the tall side but at 6’2 Walter rarely felt dwarfed by them. Kirsten was tiny in comparison but to his understanding, what she lost in height she made up for in speed. “Lord Barrow had us check here. Your scent has changed.” there was something accusing in Marvin’s voice.

“Interesting,” Walter frowned as Marvin started patting him down. His keys were taken from him and he pushed to sit on some picnic tables. Kristen placed a cup of tea in his hands and another wolf he didn’t know well placed a blanket over his shoulders. “I didn’t… I know the basics but not much after,” he offered, drinking deep.

“I see,” Kirsten hummed, feeling his forehead. “Did you know it was going to happen then?”

“The thing or last night? The thing, no. Last night spiralled out of my control,” Walter answered truthfully. He was starting to tremble less now. The cup was warm in his hands and things were beginning to sink in more. Lord Barrow had called favours in to find him. That was going to cost. “Do you have a knife?”

“Don’t need them,” Marvin snorted. “Why do you want a knife?”

“You haven’t you noticed my hair?”

“ You’re not cutting it here,” Kirsten shook her head. Her fingers ran through it and pulled it out of the blanket. Walter could feel her fingers already picking out leaves and twigs. “I’ll braid it for you. We need to stop at the den before taking you to Lord Barrow. You need a shower. I can get Sophie to cut it for you.”

Walter closed his eyes and nodded. The wolves were to be his jail guards for the moment then. “My phone is dead. Water got to it.”

“We’ll have a burner ready,” Marvin noted.

They waited in silence, the wolves chatting among themselves as Walter drifted. Marvin was sat next to him, acting as a heated bookend and keeping him upright. Kirsten didn’t bother trying to brush his hair, just divided it and got to work taming the mess. Walter knew there were other people in the park but chances were the collection of rough-looking bikers were keeping them away for the moment. They were good people. The sort who would get rid of a body for you at a moment’s notice. Unlike Lord Barrow or the many other fractions, they were unlikely to expect a life debt for it either. Simply a favour in turn. Unless those favours started adding up too much.

“Come on,” Marvin hustled him into a car that had pulled up, tossing the keys to someone getting out. Kirsten kissed his cheek before leaving him to Marvin and whoever was driving. Marvin’s arm was strong over his shoulders, keeping him pressed against him. Marvin was one of Alec’s former fancies. It was nice having someone familiar as he drifted.

Lord Barrow wasn’t a monster. He would want someone with Walter’s powers. The cost was going to be steep and Walter was frozen in the midst of it all. Until he faced Barrow there was no telling what was going to happen. What was going to be taken, or if he would be breathing at the end of it all.

“I let Alec know you’re alive,” Marvin said softly. “He’s on his way to the den. Is he being clingy again?”

“Down to three fancies. One is likely to leave soon too. The other, I’m not sure about. I think he’s lost interest.” Walter explained. Alec hadn’t been worrying about Charles leaving, just him and Tristian. “And now I’m in trouble so …”

“He’ll be on the hunt again,”

“Is he ever not?”

Marvin laughed and tightened his grip again. It stayed warm and tight. “I’m not sure how you put up with it,” he murmured. “My wolf was going mad by the end of it. Too many different smells on him. Maybe if they had been consistent…”

“He’s Lord Barrow’s favourite. Or at least, one of them. Lord Barrow is happy to give me to him. If I did not want it, Lord Barrow wouldn’t, I hope. Coping is interesting. Alec is rather open with me about who he’s with. He was sending pictures of him and Tristian last night before the incident,”

“That’s improved then,”

Walter laughed, opening his eyes and looking at Marvin with fondness. He could see the doubt in Marvin’s eyes. Marvin’s wolf may not have been able to deal with Alec anymore but Walter wasn’t so sure his heart was free from Alec’s mesmerizing eyes yet.  “You should be proud. You leaving him affected Alec more than him being clingy to everyone else. Not many of them can claim that.”

Marvin looked slightly uncomfortable but didn’t let go of Walter. He shifted, cupping Walter’s face and bringing them somehow closer than before.“Your right eye has changed,” he breathed softly. “It’s green now, not blue.”

“Ah,” Walter grimaced, pulling away.  “My blind eye is going to stick out more,” he sighed and rubbed his forehead. With his eyes being blue, the pale fog over his left eye was not noticeable unless someone was glazing into it too deeply. He hadn’t been too worried about this eyes changing, last bloomers didn’t normally but nothing about this was normal. “Just perfect.”

The snort of laughter from Marvin and the driver made him glare at the wolf he could see. “You still look handsome, Walt. You’ll be fine,” Marvin promised.

Alec was waiting as they pulled into the wolf compound. The fae practically bouncing on the spot. Marvin had barely got Walter out before Alec was on him, jumping on him and holding tight. Walter held Alec up in the air and used Marvin as support as his knees almost collapsed. Marvin’s hand was on him.

Alec was crying, that wasn’t a good sign.

Alec was taken from him, someone plucking him from Alec complaining loudly but Marvin was too busy pushing Walter in the building. Alec was close behind fast, grabbing Walter’s arm and clinging. The alpha appeared, a large solid man who took one look at the three of them, sighed and point them in a direction. Walter almost laughed. There was a weary acceptation to the look. Only Walter was in the middle of this particular mess and wanted nothing to do with it all.

Then, the three of them were left alone in a bathroom with a massive bathtub and a fair size shower. The wolves were big fellows and their homes were designed as such. Marvin turned the shower on and the bath, starting to get the area ready.

“Clothes off is usually a good idea,” Marvin teased, winking at the two of them.

“Need help?” Alec asked. Mascara was smeared over his cheeks, his lips plain and his hair was messed up too. His hands were clinging to Walter’s arm still.

“Sure,” Walter smiled at the man. Whether Alec was nervous because Barrow was about to kill him or because Tristian had declared he was leaving too was uncertain but something had upset the fae. Alec pulled his rags off, Marvin taking the ruined clothes off him and putting them in a bag.

“Good things about doing this here, we have plenty of spare clothes,” Marvin smiled brightly.

“Yours,” Alec said firmly.

“Al…”

“Yours,” He repeated, looking at Marvin. Marvin faltered but nodded and left the room. Alec hugged Walter again and pressed a kiss to his neck. “Don’t lie to uncle, Walter. You’re on thin ice. It’s tempting when he asks things that are too intimate, too deep but you have to, Marvin,” Alec pleaded.

“I know,” Walter nodded. “I won’t, I promise.”

“I’m fae, Walter. You know what that word means,”

“I know. I promise I won’t lie to Lord Barrow, Alec. I meant what I said. I’m not planning to go like Rick,” Walter leant done and kissed Alec’s lips. He could taste mud from his cheeks in the kiss but Alec was gripping too tightly to care. Hands grasping his neck, not minding the state he was in; Just wanting his warmth and love. Just saying, ‘I’m here’. It meant everything to Alec and the warmth in Walter’s chest, let him know it was just important to him too.

Next

[eddycurrents]

For the week of 18 February 2019

Quick Bits:

Aquaman #45 gives us a new creation story with Father Sea and Mother Salt. It’s interesting world-building for what’s going on on this island. Robson Rocha, Daniel Henriques, and Sunny Gho seem to level up on their art again. This book is gorgeous.

| Published by DC Comics

Avengers #15 continues the vampire civil war, with the Shadow Colonel basically kidnapping Ghost Rider. Jason Aaron is definitely taking this series in weird places, but it remains highly entertaining. Especially with collaborators like David Marquez and Erick Arciniega who deliver some incredible artwork.

| Published by Marvel

Avengers: No Road Home #2 reveals how Nyx and her family took Olympus. There’s also a neat parallel narration for Hawkeye explaining how the guy with just a bow and arrows can take on gods and monsters. The art from Paco Medina, Juan Vlasco, and Jesus Aburtov is gorgeous, they really seem to pushing themselves with their storytelling. It’s just a shame that none of the artists are credited on the cover.

| Published by Marvel

Barbarella/Dejah Thoris #2 is ridiculously impressive. Leah Williams, Germán García, Addison Duke, and Crank! are delivering an intelligent, humorous, and compelling adventure tale here that reminds me a lot of some of what Alan Moore and Chris Sprouse did in Tom Strong. It’s incredibly inventive and the artwork is amazing. Highly recommended.

| Published by Dynamite

Batman #65 gives us the penultimate chapter of “The Price”, featuring an all out battle between Flash, Gotham Girl, and Gotham. The artwork from Guillem March and Tomeu Morey is stunning, with some incredible layouts as the action continues.

| Published by DC Comics

Black Widow #2 is fairly bloody and violent as Natasha racks up a body count tracking down the people running “No Restraints Play”, a site that specializes in depravity. Flaviano’s line art seems scratchier than the first issue, but it works for the violent tone of story.

| Published by Marvel

Bloodborne #9 begins the third arc, “A Song of Crows”, as Aleš Kot, Piotr Kowalski, Brad Simpson, Aditya Bidikar, and Jim Campbell spotlight Eileen the Crow. This is a bit of return to the kind of abstract storytelling and embrace of oblique existentialism of the first arc as Eileen investigates the ritual murder of a hunter, but is confounded by time and holes in the narrative.

| Published by Titan

Catwoman #8 is ostensibly the “conclusion” to “Something Smells Fishy”, but it doesn’t actually end the story in any way and leaves the reader at a cliffhanger of continuing elements. That being said, it’s still an entertaining issue from Joëlle Jones, Elena Casagrande, Fernando Blanco, John Kalisz, and Josh Reed. Wonderful action sequences, and more questions as to the nature of a reliquary that seems to contain resurrective powers.

| Published by DC Comics

Delver #1 begins a new Comixology Original series from MK Reed, C. Spike Trotman, Clive Hawken, Maarta Laiho, and Ed Dukeshire. It’s a very intriguing and unique take on the fantasy gaming theme of a dungeon full of treasure and monsters with delvers working to plumb the depths. But it’s from the perspective of the townsfolk whose land the door to the dungeon appears in and how it changes and impacts their lives. 

| Published by Iron Circus Comics

Doctor Strange #11 concludes the battle with Dormammu and the Faltine, for now at least, from Mark Waid, Jesús Saiz, Javier Pina, Rachelle Rosenberg, and Cory Petit. Some very nice art as usual from Saiz, Pina, and Rosenberg.

| Published by Marvel

Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #3 continues “Mother of Exiles” from Tom Taylor, Juann Cabal, Nolan Woodard, and Travis Lanham as Peter finds out a bit about the rumours regarding his neighbour and Under York, another duplicate New York City under New York City, that oddly isn’t the Monster Metropolis. Great humour from Taylor in the dialogue.

| Published by Marvel

Guardians of the Galaxy #2 takes a somewhat different approach as Peter Quill drunk dials Kitty as he tries to make sense of what’s going on with Thanos, Gamora, everyone who’s dead, and the current state of the Guardians. Donny Cates, Geoff Shaw, Marte Gracia, and Cory Petit are really taking this series into interesting offbeat territory, while still delivering some excellent humour and an ominous feel to Starfox’s new band of “guardians”.

| Published by Marvel

Incursion #1 begins a new mini picking up on where the Eternal Warrior and Geomancer are since Harbinger Wars 2 and Ninja-K, and pit them against Imperatrix Virago, a cosmic villain that is devouring worlds (kind of like if Galactus were pestilence), from Andy Diggle, Alex Paknadel, Doug Braithwaite, José Villarrubia, Diego Rodriguez, and Marshall Dillon. The art is incredible, the stakes seem pretty high, and the outlook after this first issue look pretty grim for Earth.

| Published by Valiant

James Bond 007 #4 sees Stephen Mooney join Greg Pak, Tríona Farrell, and Ariana Maher for the art chores for three issues, continuing the tale of Bond and “Oddjob”’s team-up. Like Marc Laming, Mooney seems to be born to draw Bond and espionage themed stories.

| Published by Dynamite

Judge Dredd: Toxic #4 concludes what has been an excellent series dealing with xenophobia and hateful rhetoric from Paul Jenkins, Marco Castiello, Vincenzo Acunzo, Jason Millet, Shawn Lee, and Robbie Robbins. I’ve always found non 2000 AD Judge Dredd stories to be a bit of crapshoot, but IDW have been delivering well with the past two mini-series, this and Under Siege.

| Published by IDW

Justice League #18 is the latest excursion into the Legion of Doom territory from James Tynion IV, Pasqual Ferry, Hi-Fi, and Tom Napolitano. It works with some of the revelations from last issue regarding Martian Manhunter and builds a new narrative for Lionel Luthor’s past and his work with Vandal Savage. It’s interesting to see Tynion working with variations on discarded continuities in this way, building a new past that synthesizes pre-Flashpoint ideas with the current batch of backstories.

| Published by DC Comics

Middlewest #4 only seems to be getting better and better as more of this world and how it seems to work get fleshed out by Skottie Young, Jorge Corona, Jean-Francois Beaulieu, and Nate Piekos. There’s something incredibly magical and special about this series that taps into the feeling of some of the best coming-of-age fantasies as it blends Ray Bradbury, JM Barrie, and Carlo Collodi into this magical realist adventure.

| Published by Image

Miles Morales: Spider-Man #3 concludes the opening arc from Saladin Ahmed, Javier Garrón, David Curiel, and Cory Petit by adding Captain America to Miles & Rhino’s team-up. This has been a very entertaining start to the series, with a nice mix of Miles’ personal life and superheroics.

| Published by Marvel

Naomi #2 reasserts that Jamal Campbell is a powerhouse of an artist and one of the best kept secrets of the past few years who really should have a higher profile. His art is amazing. It also helps that the story he, Brian Michael Bendis, David F. Walker, and Carlos M. Mangual are telling is as compelling as this, as Naomi confronts Dee as she tries to learn about the day of her adoption. It’s very widescreen and epic as it hints at the broader DC Universe, but at the same time this is very deeply personal.

| Published by DC Comics

Old Man Quill #2 gives the Guardians a taste of the depravity and despair that Earth has fallen to in this post-superhero world. Ethan Sacks shows there’s still a bit of humour left, though, in that Piledriver’s descendent thinks that Piledriver was one of the all-time greats. Also the art from Robert Gill and Andres Mossa gives a wonderful amount of detail to the wastelands.

| Published by Marvel

Relay #4 returns after a delay with new artist Dalibor Talajić (I believe Andy Clarke had to bow out due to illness, but I’m not 100% sure on that). Talajić’s art style is not as bright and clean as Clarke’s, giving a darker, shadowy approach that results in the bleak, horror elements of the story coming further into focus.

| Published by AfterShock

Seven to Eternity #13 returns from its own lengthy delay to conclude the arc in Skod, with the revelation of part of Adam’s choice to save the Mud King. It reiterates the theme since the beginning that there seem to be no good choices in this world, that everything tainted, despite Adam’s father believing the world black and white. While we are going into another trade break, Rick Remender, Jerome Opeña, Matt Hollingsworth, and Rus Wooton consistently make this worth the wait.

| Published by Image / Giant Generator

Sharkey: The Bounty Hunter #1 is the latest of Mark Millar’s Netflix feeder series, after The Magic Order and Prodigy, with Simone Bianchi and Peter Doherty rounding out the team. This one feels a bit like if Warren Ellis were writing Strontium Dog, and it works. The artwork from Bianchi is worth it on its own. Gorgeous character designs.

| Published by Image

Venom #11 is another holy crap issue from Donny Cates, Ryan Stegman, Joshua Cassara, JP Mayer, Frank Martin, and Clayton Cowles. There are some really big revelations about Eddie and his family that really need to be read firsthand. Amazing work.

| Published by Marvel

X-O Manowar #24 reminds us again just how good of an artist and storyteller Tomás Giorello is. The action sequences and battle between Aric and Hesnid is incredible, with fairly inventive layouts that just elevate the overall impact of the pages. Giorello and Diego Rodriguez really make this something joyous to behold.

| Published by Valiant

Other Highlights: American Carnage #4, Bitter Root #4, Black Badge #7, The Black Order #4, Breakneck #3, Coda #9, Death Orb #5, DuckTales #18, East of West #41, Evolution #14, Exorsisters #5, Go Bots #4, Grumble #4, High Level #1, Hot Lunch Special #5, Jessica Jones: Purple Daughter #2, Jim Henson’s Beneath the Dark Crystal #5, Jim Henson’s Labyrinth: Discovery Adventure, Jughead: The Hunger #12, Lightstep #4, The Lone Ranger #5, Lucifer #5, Lumberjanes #59, Mars Attacks #5, Monstress #20, Outpost Zero #7, Rainbow Brite #4, Shuri #5, Solo: A Star Wars Story #5, Star Wars Adventures #18, Starcraft: Soldiers #2, Stronghold #1, Sukeban Turbo #4, Superb #17, TMNT: Urban Legends #10, Teen Titans #27, Turok #2, The Unstoppable Wasp #5, The Witcher: Of Flesh and Flame #3

Recommended Collections: Amazing Spider-Man - Volume 2: Friends & Foes, Bedtime Games, The Beauty - Volume 5, Black Lightning: Brick City Blues, Captain America - Volume 1: Winter in America, Days of Hate - Volume 2, High Crimes, Infinity 8 - Volume 3: The Gospel According to Emma, Old Man Hawkeye - Volume 2: The Whole World Blind, The Punisher - Volume 1: World War Frank, West Coast Avengers - Volume 1: Best Coast

d. emerson eddy would do anything for a Klondike bar, but he won’t do that.

[analisegrey]

Februwhump Prompt!

“Where are you?” (Read on AO3)

Warnings: spoilers for C2:e49- Game of Names, spoilers for Caleb’s backstory, teacher-student relationship, power imbalance, manipulation, child abuse/neglect, Trent Ikithon (he’s his own warning), also my sincerest apologies to Mr. Tolkien.

Day 1

Trent’s voice in his mind is as cool and clear as ever, the distance doing nothing to interfere with the clarity of his Sending spell. “You will return to the estate at precisely six pm on whichever day you return. If you come back too early or too late the-” There’s a brief pause, and then, “-exercise will reset. If you don't return, I will assume you were not strong enough. Am I clear?”

Bren is still groggy, his head aching from whatever Trent had done to knock him out and bring him here, but he doesn’t keep his instructor waiting. “Yes sir.”

There’s no response, but he doesn’t expect one.

He’s known for awhile that even among the three of them, Trent has been singling him out for extra training, running him through mental exercises Astrid and Eodwulf are excused from; it’s only fitting for the boy who will become their team leader one day.

He’s not sure where he is beyond ‘in the woods’. He takes stock of what Trent has left him with- basic clothes, a hunting knife, one healing potion. He has no components with him, but that’s not really an issue; his preferred spells use mostly verbal and somatic components, so it could be worse. If it were Astrid or Eodwulf out here, they might have more of a problem.

He looks around, taking in his surroundings. There’s the quiet sounds of the woods- the rustling of the wind through leaves, the musical call of birds (finch, robin, bluejay, cardinal), and from somewhere close, the burble of water.

It’s not that late, he thinks, just past midday if the position of the sun is any indication. If he can figure out where he is, and what direction the estate might be in, he can conceivably finish this exercise today and have a late dinner with Astrid and Eodwulf. No problem.

So, first things first, he thinks, where are you?

He climbs a tree with little difficulty, the bark rough against his hands as he climbs. It’s been a few years since he had the time and inclination to climb a tree, but it’s a skill that comes back quickly. When he’s high enough up, he gets a look at his surroundings, and a better look at the sun’s position. He’s got a decent idea of where north is, and therefore where the estate might be. He’s seen maps of the area in Trent’s study, knows where the woods are in relation to the house, and thinks he remembers the path of the stream he heard before; with that added confidence he shimmies back down the tree and heads out.

He’s feeling pretty good about things until he gets to the front gate of the estate and Trent is waiting, arms crossed over his chest with a frown of blatant disapproval. “I specified a time, Bren. What did I say?”

“Six pm, sir.”

“And what time is it now?”

Bren pauses, glancing up at the sun. He’d thought he was pretty close, time-wise, but maybe not as close as he’d thought. He hazards a guess, “Five-thirty?”

Trent’s frown deepens, and it’s all Bren can do to keep himself from taking a reflexive step back.

“No, that is incorrect.” Trent’s words are cold and clipped, and Bren’s stomach twists in shame. “I am training you to become a powerful mage, Bren; not just a war mage to help protect the Empire, but the leader of your squad. That is a position that will require specificity and precision. You can’t just guess.” Trent's lip curls in disgust as he moves forward, and Bren straightens, shoulders back, forcing himself to maintain eye contact when what he wants most is to just sink into the ground and disappear. “A wizard of the level I am training you to be is neither early nor late. They arrive precisely when they mean to. You will do the exercise again.”

Trent puts a hand on Bren’s shoulder, and the world twists and warps around him, then abruptly goes dark.

Day 3

The easy confidence Bren had on day one has long since left him. He’s gotten better at finding directions without having to climb up a tree which is good; Trent has been leaving him further and further from the estate since the first day, always in a different location than the days before. When he wakes up the third day, he finds the healing potion he’d used the second day hasn’t been replenished.

“Perhaps you will learn be more mindful of both yourself and your resources. The exercise starts now.”

The day before he’d fallen down a steep incline he hadn't seen when the light had started to fade under the tree canopy, and hurt his leg. At the time, he’d thought it was an obvious need, but maybe he’d been wrong. He wonders now if he should have waited, should have tried walking on it. It’s possible it was only badly strained, and not actually broken, but it’s too late to worry about it now. He’ll just have to be more careful.

He locates the stream again and drinks his fill, letting the water take away the edge of hunger. He hasn’t been able to catch anything useable since the exercise started; he’d spotted a small rabbit the day before, and without thinking had tossed a Firebolt at it. His aim had been true, but it has practically incinerated the creature, rendering it useless. He’ll need to figure out something to eat, and soon, but he knows from his studies how long a person can actually go without food so long as they have water. He knows that while this is uncomfortable, and will eventually have negative effects, he isn’t in immediate danger.

He keeps a close eye on the position of the sun, tracking it’s path through the sky in his head from when he woke up, doing his best to gauge how long until sundown. The first day he’d been too early. Yesterday he’d been too late. He thinks he’s got a better grasp on it this go round, his sense of time improving.

When he arrives at the gate, Trent doesn’t even address him before stalking forward, his dismay evident in his expression. He clamps a hand down on Bren’s shoulder with bruising force, mutters a word, gestures with his other hand, and sends Bren off again.

The exercise restarts.

Day 6

Things are not going as well.

He’d gotten turned around somehow the day before, following the stream in the wrong direction for long enough that by the time he’d realized his error, he knew that there was no way he’d get back to the estate before dark. He’d spent the night up in a tree, far too tense for sleep, waiting in the cool night air for sunrise.

The morning dawns overcast and gray, and soon it’s raining, which is doing nothing to improve Bren’s mood. He’s cold, wet, and hungry, his irritation with the whole situation, with himself, a low-burning fire in his gut. He wants the exercise to be over and done with, to be inside, somewhere dry and warm, to have the company of his friends, his teammates. He takes a deep breath, centers himself, thinks about why he’s doing this. He needs to become strong, to be the leader that Trent thinks he can be. Trent wouldn’t have sent him out here if he didn’t think Bren was up to the task.

He’s so deep in his own head he doesn’t hear the movement in the bushes nearby until it’s too late. A sharp squeal rends the air, startling him from his thoughts, and something crashes from the underbrush, slamming into him at hip height. It knocks him sideways and to the ground, and the creature is on him almost immediately. Something sharp digs along the outside of his thigh, pulling a scream from him, but his training kicks in and he gets his hands up, thumbs hooked, a blast of fire shooting out as he casts. The beast tries to get out of the way, but isn’t quick enough, and the cone of flame catches it along one side, eliciting a pained noise. It rounds on him and he has a second to recognize it as a wild boar, though thankfully not a full-grown one, before it's charging again. He rolls at the last moment, evading the tusks it’s aimed at him. He gets up to his feet, though his injured leg threatens to give, and the forest around them goes still, the two of them just watching each other for a long, frozen moment. Then the boar charges again, and Bren unleashes the fire a second time, hitting it head-on. It drops, but its momentum carries its still-burning carcass through the mud a few feet toward him.

He has his hands up, still shaking as he gasps for breath, and he waits a moment to be certain it’s dead before he lowers his arms and moves toward it. The rain has put out most of the remaining flames, and he drops to his knees next to it. The outer layer of hide and bristle is burned, charred-through, and the scent of roast pig makes his stomach twist and pang. He has his knife out and digging into it before he can stop himself, tearing aside the skin to get to the cooked-through layers of flesh closest to the surface. There’s a part of his mind that worries this is a bad idea, that the pig as a whole isn’t cooked enough, that it will make him sick. That part of him is quickly subsumed by the rest of him which is starving and hasn’t eaten anything other than berries and roots in days.

By the time he stops, his belly is full, and he feels a bit queasy from all the blood, but it’s preferable to the yawning emptiness he’s been dealing with. He forces himself to get up, knowing that the smell of cooked meat and blood will draw attention from predators. He also knows that this boar wasn’t anywhere near full-grown, and there might be other ones, bigger ones, nearby, which he has no interest in tangling with. He wipes his knife off against the grass and tears off strips of his shirt to bandage the gash in the side of his leg before he gets moving.

It’s nearing dusk when he arrives back at the estate, and Trent is once again waiting for him, mouth pressed into a pale, turned-down line. “Bren, it is not-”

A flash of something, a sudden burst of stupidity, irritation, and brashness comes bubbling up out of him, and he does something he’s never dared before- he interrupts Trent.

“No, sir, it is not six pm. It is five fifty-five, but I am here precisely when I mean to be.”

Trent blinks at him, one elegant eyebrow arched in surprise as he takes in the soaking wet, blood-stained teen shivering yet standing tall before him. He takes in the sight, and after a moment in which Bren is convinced he’s about to be struck down or sent away, Trent smiles.

“Well done, Bren.” Trent stands to the side of the gate and gestures toward the house. “Come along. We’ll see to your injuries, and you can tell me about what you've learned during the exercise.”

Pride swells up on a wave of warmth in Bren’s chest, and everything he’s gone through in the past week- the exhaustion, the deprivation, the injuries and self-doubt- all of it has been worth it for this moment of praise, for knowing that- at least this once- he’s managed to live up to Trent’s high expectations.

Schooling his features to careful neutrality, he holds his head high, and steps through the gate.

[eldritchsardine]

OC Oneshot: Done Running

Alright, got another oneshot using another person’s OCs, this time the excellent author @loubuggins. Check her out for more info on the characters (or if you just want to read some awesome fics), otherwise enjoy!

Janet was breathing heavily, sweat pouring off of her form as she wove through trees and bushes, vaulting over roots and ducking beneath branches an instant before collision, doing all she could to simply keep her target in sight. As she caught another flash of his form speeding through the trees, the last moments of their argument replayed themselves in her mind.

"Mark, everyone misses you. Everyone thought you were dead! There's been talk about a god damn funeral for you!" She shouted.

"Doesn't sound too bad to me," he said, voice devoid of emotion and rough as sandpaper from years of disuse. "At least then I could see mom again."

She went silent, frozen. "You don't mean that," she told him quietly. "Please tell me you don't mean that." This time it was a request, a plea.

A shrug. "Doesn't really matter. I'm not going back. This is where I live now. This is my home."

"A home is more than just a place you lie your stubborn ass down at the end of the day!" She exclaimed. "Now come on, and let's go home. To your family.”

She went to grab him, but instantly he was gone, and in his place was a light green cheetah. It immediately turned and sped off, out of the clearing and disappearing into the trees, followed moments later by the speedstress.

In most scenarios she would be much faster than the bright green cheetah ahead of her, but in the dense jungles of Upper Lambada, Africa, his form was far better suited for the surroundings and terrain.

Just as the thought crossed her mind and as if to prove her point, she slipped on a dense patch of mud on the ground, sending her tumbling forwards with a cry and colliding with a tree, several unpleasant crunching and cracking sounds indicating that something was injured, likely broken.

She groaned in pain and frustration, knowing that by now he was long gone, and she had no hope of tracking him further. The thought brought with it a feeling of sorrow and loss far more intense than what she was expecting, and tears began to fall unbidden. She wiped at them angrily, telling herself that he had left long ago, she couldn't lose someone that was already lost, but even she knew that trying to fight her own heart was as hopeless a struggle as any.

She glanced down at her chest, gingerly feeling about for any broken bones with a bleeding arm, likely cut on a branch while running or during her fall that she hadn't noticed. Thankfully, she was still in one piece and her injuries were at worst a handful of broken, not completely shattered, ribs. She heaved a sigh of relief, hissing in pain as the action magnified the pain of her bruises. A handful of broken ribs, while definitely not the worst she had been through, still had the capacity to hurt like hell.

However, as she let her arm fall back down to recover, a soft, wet, and warm surface came into contact with it and she jumped, glancing down to see a light green cheetah lapping at the cut caringly, the sight freezing her with unwanted hope.

She reached out an arm uncertainly, almost afraid he would evaporate in her touch, but finally her hand reached its destination of his unruly and wild hair, proof of his years of isolation, as somewhere between then and when she had begun the motion he had shifted back to his original form.

"Are you okay?" His voice was still as rough from being unused for so long, as it had been before their argument which lead to the chase, but something in it contained a new warmth, hidden and pushed aside as it might be.

She grmiaced in response. "A few are broken, but I'll live."

"Good." He rose up to stand in front of her, glancing first down at her again, and then around the forest, and back down, as though debating something. "How far away is your ship?"

"A couple miles."

Mark pursed his lips, thinking. Finally, he reached down and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, making her shiver at the contact. He hoisted her up, but as soon as she was standing and went to put weight on her feet, she cried out in pain and would have collapsed to the ground again if he hadn't caught her. "Alright, leg's broken too."

He cursed under his breath, something previously uncharacteristic of him. She raised an eyebrow, already prepared to rib him for it as she used to, but stopped after realizing that he could be an entirely different person by now and she would have no idea. He could be a complete stranger.

The changeling groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation, before meeting her eyes once again. "How long will it take you to heal with your speedforce and get outta here?"

"About a day, maybe a little longer," she shrugged. "Though if you really want me gone you could always help heal me yourself," she added, smirking up at him.

He didn't bother answering, choosing instead to gingerly pick her up bridal style, hands hesitant as if wary that she would burn him, or maybe they would break her. Or both.

Whatever the case, Janet took the position to her advantage and burrowed into his broad chest (was he this muscular before he left?) comfortably, enjoying how he tensed as she did so.

"You're still leaving as soon as you're healed, and I'm still not coming with you," he muttered, though she deigned to ignore him and instead listen to the steady, strong beat of his heart through his clothes.

By the time that they reached the abandoned safe house he had made his home for the past years, the sun was setting in the sky and her broken bones were producing a constant ache that made every motion painful, now that her adrenaline had worn off completely.

Mark turned and pushed the door open with his back, before striding inside and making his way over to a messy, unmade bed in a corner of the small 3-room building. He knelt down and laid Janet upon it gently, disappointing her at the lost contact with him. He turned and took a seat on a chair across the room, picked up a book, and immediately became almost as still as a statue as he began to read.

The sight of the changeling with his nose buried in a book was so familiar, even with the unkempt hair, ripped clothing, and untidy, alien room, that she felt pangs of heartache and regret at the lost time between them and shoot through her chest, even more painful than her injuries. "Even now, you still love your books, huh?" She poked at him fondly in a futile attempt to ignore the emotions welling up.

He huffed in frustration, lowering the book to glare at her. "Well, the internet connection over here isn't too great, and in case you haven't noticed, there's a significant lack of electricity, so as much as I'd like it, Gamestation isn't much of an option. There aren't many people to talk to other than the meta traffickers we just took down, and that leaves me with books."

She paused, thinking over his response as silence once again descended. "Thanks, by the way. For, you know, helping me with those guys."

"Well what did you expect me to do?" He asked. "Just leave you to them and let you not only fail the mission you came here for, but also possibly be hurt or abducted yourself?"

A smile broke out over her expression. "Aww, so you do care!" She teased. "My hero!"

He rolled his eyes, before pretending to puke in disgust to the side, making retching sounds behind a hand before smirking along with her, and for a second it was like old times. But then her laughter came too hard, and the ache in her ribs evolved into a sharp stabs of agony and she choked into silence, grasping at her abdomen and screwing her eyes shut.

Mark's eyes darkened, as though remembering their situation, and he stood up, striding over to the bedside and growling at her angrily. "Just lay still and focus on healing."

She sighed. "You're really that eager to have me gone, aren't you?"

The changeling merely stared at her emotionlessly for a handful of seconds, before jerking his hands up to place them over her stomach, and she let her head fall back as his healing magic flowed into her, soothing the injuries and relaxing her body.

"It also makes me feel... closer to her," he mumbled, as though he had read her mind. Her head shot back up to meet his gaze, and the sorrow there nearly broke her heart.

She reached a hand up to cup his cheek, but he shied away. "Mark," she murmured softly. "I know it hurts. I lost Justin, and-," she paused, voice breaking slightly as memories washed over her. "And Raven was basically my own family too. But you can't just run away from it all."

"But I did already," he replied. "I ran when she died, I kept running when I got here, I ran from you earlier, and I'll keep running all my life. I guess it's just what I do," his voice was weary, empty, shoulders slumped as he spoke, as if knowing himself how futile what he was saying was.

"And what'd it get you?" She pursued. "Isolation, unsolved issues, an injured friend, and a face that really could use a shave."

A scoff. "Even now you need to make fun of me, huh?"

"I'm pretty sure that's my job," Janet chuckled lightly, as to not trigger her injuries. She hadn't missed his obvious misdirection if the conversation from it's more serious topic, but chose not to pursue it.

"You should get some sleep," he sighed. "It'll help you heal, and then get on your way."

"Where are you going to sleep?" She questioned, glancing about the room and secretly praying that he didn't have another bed to use.

He shrugged and turned to walk away. "The floor I guess."

Immediately her hand was filled with a bright pink energy. "Oh, no you don't. My body is going to be focusing it's energy on healing itself, which means I'm going to get cold, especially if I'm not moving. Now, you are going to get in this bed to warm me up right now or I will bring this whole building down. I don't need my chest or leg to use magic."

Mark turned about to stare at her incredulously. "Are you insane? I'm not sleeping with you!"

Janet returned the look with a challenge of her own. "If you hadn't run away when I tried to talk you into coming back I wouldn't be injured in the first place, so technically this is your fault. You owe me," she countered, smirking at him.

Mark sputtered incoherently for several seconds, before finding his voice. "Well you're the one who tried talking me into coming back! That's on you!"

"Oh yea, so sorry for actually caring about you," she bit back sarcastically. "I forgot that wasn't allowed after Raven-," she cut herself off abruptly as his eyes flashed dangerously, almost regretful of what she had been about to say.

However, as their eyes remained locked in silence, his seemed to almost melt, though whether it was a softening of his spirit or loss of a will to fight anymore, she couldn't tell.

But when he let out a whispered, "Fine," and trudged back over to the bed to slip in behind her, she quickly decided she didn't care. His arms wrapped about her waist and once again began to glow slightly as his healing power accelerated her recovery, and pulled her against him in a way she had thought for years would only- could only- be a dream.

"I hope you know that the only way I'm leaving is with you," she said quietly, knowing he would easily hear her with his enhanced senses.

His arms tightened. "I do."

"So you're done running from Raven?" She pressed, hope and happiness welling up inside her.

"I don't know."

She nodded, only one question left. "Are you done running from me?"

"Yes."

Janet smiled in relief and contentment, and she let out a sigh as silence fell between them. This time, however, it was a silence of mutual understanding, and caring. Soon after, her eyes fell closed and she passed into sleep, held in the arms of the man she was irrevocably in love with.

And true to his word, Mark remained where he was, arms wrapped about the heroine as he gazed at her features, mind distracted by thoughts too important to let him sleep. However, there was one thing he knew by now. He could run all he wanted, but she would always catch up. After all, she was a speedstress.

[marisbugs]

call me by your name // tilda x john

⤗ ao3 (see for notes and inspirations)

Names have magic power. They protect, scaring away evil. They also haunt, becoming a curse. Johnson. Dillard. Stokes. Had things worked out differently, she would have had a completely different name now. But it’s hard to make history, and it’s even harder to rewrite it. What’s done is done.

Mamie Johnson cared for her as if she was her own although insisted that she shouldn’t forget who her real mother was. Tilda nodded obediently because she knew she had to, because she knew it was the right thing to do. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t force herself to love a strange woman from the photo she kept in her bedside table, secretly wishing that one day Mamie would earnestly call her her daughter.

She sorted out her priorities when she grew up. Her love for the Johnsons didn’t lessen but she understood why Mamie kept telling her that her birthmother was Mariah – she didn’t want Tilda to forget her roots, forget who she was and where she came from. Because it’s so important to know that you’re not alone, that generations after generations of your ancestors are backing up every step of your life. No matter what people they were, what they did – family came first. Always.

That’s why she decided to follow in her father’s footsteps. She set herself a goal to become as generous and selfless as Jackson Dillard was – to help people without awaiting something in return. With her life, she wanted to honour his memory, to do him justice, to crown him with immortality. And maybe – just maybe – to win if not love, but at least respect of the woman who was called her mother even if she never actually acted like one.

She should have known that this undertaking of hers was doomed from the start – their relationship with Mariah was doomed. Every time when it seemed that they’d moved one step forward, something always took them two, if not three, steps back. So was the life, apparently. However, even after all these years – after she’d left her in somebody else’s care and then moved on to forgetting her entire existence – they still kept trying. Because family came first, didn’t it? Always.

It all fell into place when Mariah told her the truth. At first, she refused to believed it for it would have been so much easier if it turned out that the woman’d made it all up, said it out of spite to get under her skin, to drag her in the mud, to hurt her, to humiliate her. But the look on Mariah’s face spoke louder than words; she saw shame in her eyes, she saw suffering and disgust, and, more importantly, anger. At Pete, at Mable, at herself, even at Cornell. And at her, nearly most of all at her. Something inside her broke, but at least she understood now. Everything that had ever happened to her finally made sense. The picture became whole. The last piece of the puzzle pierced right through her heart.

Jackson Dillard turned out to be the same fiction as the loving Johnsons – the family she had never been a part of, not really. Thus, Tilda Johnson as well as Tilda Dillard were fakes. Only Tilda Stokes was real.

Mariah had hoped that changing the name would help her to run away from herself, from her shameful past, the shady family business, even shadier history. Naivety that wasn’t typical of her always so calculating mother. For some reason, Tilda realized much faster that you couldn’t run away from the thing that coursing through your veins. There was no escape.

Everyone had their own cross to bear, and it just happened that her own was imprinted right under her skin.

She hadn’t had a clue that it was possible to hate so strongly, so deeply, so furiously. She always thought herself to be above prejudice, above all that Shakespearean family feud, vendettas and stuff like that that her relatives, who she’d never wished to have anything in common with, were engrossed in. And look at her now. The irony of fate in all its deadly glory. She wanted to climb up the wall or better – crawl in a hole and never see the light of day ever again. She didn’t feel like she deserved anything better. The child of incest and rape – a Stokes twice over.

She knew, however, that she would muster up her willpower sooner or later. She would keep on doing what she had been doing, what she thought was right, and would console herself by thinking that none of that mattered (but of course it mattered, it all mattered). “Family comes first”. Bullshit.

A bit more of that – and she would throw up.

Looking at him, she couldn’t help thinking about all the things her family was to blame for: the McIvers’ murder, the massacre at “Gwen’s” – all of them were just the tip of the iceberg of the sequence of crimes, each of those had ruined someone’s life. And she – oh, she was one – no, two – hundred percent responsible for it. If he wished to kill each and every one of the Stokes family, he should definitely start with her. A pure product born out of filth and vice hardly deserved the right to exist.

“I’m so sorry,” she said and she didn’t lie. She truly was sorry – and not only for those innocent who’d died. She felt sorry for those who’d survived as well, doomed to live day by day with the excruciating pain of loss. She felt sorry for John. And a little – for herself.

But she wasn’t going to indulge her weaknesses and drown in self-pity. She just wanted to erase that cursed name from her life, well aware that it was impossible, that for that to happen she’d have to turn herself inside out, to replace every cell in her body. She wasn’t going to repeat her mother’s mistakes, but maybe, she didn’t have a choice. Maybe, she was doomed.

“I just can’t figure out why you still haven’t killed me.” Tilting her head a little, she looked at him without fear, curious.

“You heal me,” he chuckled. Then added after some contemplation, “And I like you.”

Frowning, she shook her head. She cared about him, but she wasn’t ready to receive the same care in return. She didn’t believe she deserved it.

“You wouldn’t have said that if you knew the truth.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as though she was about to jump into ice cold water – or the flames of hell. “My father… My father isn’t Jackson Dillard. It’s Pete Stokes.”

When she opened her eyes at last, afraid of lingering silence, he stood so very close to her, not even moving. She didn’t know what to think, but there was no anger in his eyes – at least, not at her. He traced his finger down her cheek tentatively, and her body shivered. She swallowed.

“I’m a pureblood Stokes, an abomination…” He didn’t let her finish, putting his thumb to her lips.

“You wouldn’t have said that if you knew the truth.” His smile was scarcely perceptible as she looked at him examiningly. “I like you the way you are.”

And maybe, it was all she needed to hear.

She offered him a poison, but also a chance to have his revenge, to redeem himself. She didn’t want him to die, but after all, death was the ultimate freedom. The roads we take all lead to it eventually.

Deep down, she hoped she would be able to save him.

She was right, but now the load of responsibility rested on her shoulders. It was her turn to administrate justice, pledging her soul to the devil. But what had to be done had to be done, and no one but her could put an end to all that was started so long ago. Cornell killed Pete, Mariah killed Cornell, and it was only logical that now she killed Mariah. The circle was complete. Out of all the damned Stokes, only she remained alive.

“You miss me?” Conditioned air nicely cooled her skin, hot with Jamaican sun, and she grinned – maybe, too widely for it to be dismissed as something trivial.

“No.”

She snorted, sweeping her quizzical eyes over John who was sitting on the couch – a feeling of déjà vu was almost palpable.

“Liar.”

“Guilty as charged,” conceded he with a half-smile.

She sank into a chair across from him and watched him – more likely, scrutinized him with her doctor’s eye. He looked healthy – or, at least, much healthier than when they saw each other last. Nightshade actually helped him, it seemed. Tilda half-expected it to kill him, seeing how the previous overdoses had caused his body almost irreparable damage. Perhaps, he really was special.

“It’s over, Johnny,” finally said she, looking him in the eye. “Mariah is dead, and the last Stokes has died with her.”

Except for me, she wanted to add, but she’d meant what she’d said – she was tired of atoning for her mother’s sins, especially now, when she could so well do it herself in hell, right where she belonged. Tilda had enough those of her own; she didn’t need to overload herself.

He nodded slowly.

“The last one, huh?” asked he, challenging. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “”Who are you, then?”

“I don’t know,” she snorted a good-natured laugh. “Why don’t you name me?”

Something in his eyes changed, and if it had happened before, she would have surely wanted to run away, but now she was, in fact, ready to dive in headfirst. Mariah was wrong yet again. Tilda would never be alone.

John reached out his hand, and she leaned forward, reducing the distance between them. He pulled her close to him, basically forcing her to fall. When she caught her breath enough to look up, her eyes lingered on his lips inadvertently before travelling to his own. They were so full of emotion that her breath seized up again; but perhaps, it was due to his heartbeat that she felt with her skin – and deep under. Their hearts seemed to get in tune with each other. She wondered if he felt it too.

“You’re entrusting me with large responsibility, huh, T?” He didn’t ask, merely stating it as a fact. His voice was low. “But I think I can come up with something.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

Deep down, she realized that the climax was inevitable – that their hearts were beating too loudly, their pulses were too quick, the distance between them was disappearing too rapidly; a discharge of electricity overwhelmed her, nevertheless, rooting her to the spot, and she wouldn’t be able to escape, even if she tried.

She didn’t.

He lifted her up as if she was something evanescent and delicate, took her to the bedroom and laid her down on a double bed. For some reason, Tilda wasn’t even surprised to see the black sheets – it was minimalistic, elegant, and, first of all, dramatic. Her lips curled into a soft smile.

He took off his shirt, but there was nothing new for her to see; his stomach, his chest, his shoulders, his tattoos – she had already seen it all when she healed him, trying to bring him back from the dead. Her eyes were trained to look for injuries, and her medical practice had taught her to regard a human body just as a machine with so many functions she was supposed to keep operating. He, on the other hand, watched her rather eagerly. She allowed a low chuckle past her lips and slipped off her thin shirt, letting it fall on the floor beside the bed. Then she bent over to remove her jeans, but he gently pushed her hands away, urging her to lie down again. She silently obliged, somewhat intrigued. He traced his fingers across her arms and shoulders and down her chest and stomach; he kissed her collarbones, then shifted, moving down. Taking her jeans off of her as if she was made of the finest porcelain, he kept on caressing her legs, her feet, every now and then leaving heated wet kisses on her delicate skin. With a fleeting touch to her inner thigh, he moved back up, tracing the curves of her lips with his thumb.

“How can you be so lethal when you are so gentle?” She clutched at the sheets, her blood bubbling with excitement. “I know… You’re Erzulie, that’s right.”

“Then you’re out of luck, aren’t you?” She grinned, propping herself up on her elbows. “I’ll try not to murder you in your sleep.”

He shook his head, unfazed.

“It doesn’t matter. As long as you come when I call for you.”

It was the only thing that really mattered anyway.

[grace52373]

My thoughts on Flower Child!

I am in the minority but I think the flashback for Gothel was interesting and helped me to understand her a little better. Flashbacks on Once follow two paths, either they give us background info on a character or connect a part of a character's past to the present. This one went the first path.

Basically, Gothel is a tree nymph and I am guessing her people are guardians of this world's magic. Gothel is curious and drawn to the humans and the Regina George type tricks her into showing her and her friends magic and than pulling a Carrie with mud! Gothel than returns home to find everyone dead and her mother dies in her arms. I think what happened was that when the humans found the magical world, they destroyed the tree nymphs thus destroying the magic but as Gothel said earlier, nothing really dies, you just have to find the root and nurse it back to life obviously this was pre weed killers! Gothel goes back for revenge and kills the Regina George archetype! I honestly did not feel bad for Ms. Hitler's death because she basically helped destroy an entire innocent race because in her words, they were "abominations"! It also reminded me of the dark time that the Salem witch craft trials occurred.  Gothel finds her first coven member among the mean girls and they go off to find more magical sisters for Gothel to form a coven in order to destroy all the humans. The sad part is that I believe Gothel's mother meant for her to bring magic back, to heal our land and she was too consumed with grief and guilt to do what her mother wanted. Her story made sense to me and it made sense why she rejected her daughter at first. She literally thinks of humans as pests(I could hear the eco terrorists and the militant animal rights people cheering her on). The flashback also explained why even though this is the land without magic, it still has magic that is difficult for magic users from the EF to grasp.

The present, Gothel forces the poor cop to awaken her sisters and lure Rogers and Tilly there were under threat of her father's death, Gothel forces Tilly to join her coven and set forth a spell. There was one point, when Gothel told Tilly she was her mother, that I just wanted Gothel to see what she is throwing away. Tilly is such a precious soul. She has the best of her parents and the innocence Gothel once had. I so wanted Gothel to love her daughter but made a bad choice in abandoning her and Emma sold it to the point I wanted to believe her but she was just manipulating her. I felt so bad for Tilly but I am glad she has Weaver, Rogers, and Margot. They will save her, I am sure of it! Tilly deserves better!

As to Lucy and Dr. Facilier, I just wanted to drag that sweet kid away before she made things worse! I don't buy that Dr. Facilier healed Henry. True love kiss between him and Jacinda didn't work and even though they didn't have their memories, they were in love and it should have worked, especially since they both wanted it and to top it off, Facilier has a voodoo doll of Henry. I think Lucy meant well but I think she doomed a lot of people including her dad by trusting Facilier. I am not exactly sure of what is going to happen, but I can see that the price for that magic may very well come into play because Facilier wants Rumple's dagger and for no good reason. Naveen said that he was evil and I believe him. He killed Nick after using him to kill the witches. Just because he didn't have the dagger, doesn't mean he didn't make a move towards it! I can see Facilier holding Henry as a hostage to get that dagger. I am sure of it! I guess we just have to wait and see but I don't trust Dr. Facilier/Samdi at all! I think Rumple and Henry and Sabine/Tiana are going to pay the price for Regina and Lucy's folly!