#vengeful bite victim
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fluffysweetnectarine · 8 months ago
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You know what, I really love the CC is Shadow Freddy theory in Fnaf. like love it so much I have a nine page doc on how much I love the theory. it’s very rambling but the basic idea is it would give character to Shadow, it would give character to CC and it would be an explanation on where the fuck the child went. Because we know he talks to Cassidy/the golden Freddy spirit. We just don’t know where the bloody hell he is. Also, it’s a bit weird that Shadow just kind of disappears after the four ghost kids show up in the fnaf 3 mini game. Like if he really was William ally, why didn’t he save William from the children? Bro just ditched him. Seems like he just wanted the ghost out of the animatronics and then left William for dead. Plus if Shadow was CC it would explain what his motives were, at least somewhat. he chose his friends over his family, and decided to free his friend’s souls and kill his murderer father at once. Knock two birds with one stone. How did the kids know about the spring-locks?, where the safe room was?, etc. there’s more to this idea but I don’t really wanna make nine pages again.
Just making CC Shadow Freddy answers most of these questions.
Dammit, I want to animate this idea so bad. If you guys got any suggestions for songs, send them to me please T-T
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nightmaretherabbitsideblog1 · 4 months ago
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Vengeful Spirits
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swiatloanjo · 2 months ago
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Crying Child also being a vengeful spirit but with everything that reminds him of his death is a really interesting concept
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inoipmcr · 11 months ago
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" I am not your pet. I never liked you , I don't care about you , I won't wait for you. I bite. "
- Cassidy
"My friends think I like to fight, but it's just not true. Sometimes, I lose my temper and blow off a little steam, but I never enjoy it. I'm not a violent dog. I don't know why I bite."
- The crying child
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crayonverse · 1 year ago
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Somebody get those kids outta the bear
Couldn’t be bothered including GF kid from the movie rip </3
Had fun with the ibis paint filters. Real cool!
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inujous · 6 months ago
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your honor they're giggling together.
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joseac96 · 28 days ago
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Keira seems to be getting along with Cassidy, especially when listening to the stories she's sharing related to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.
Meanwhile, Fungi wonders about their possible relationship with each other, making the others curious.
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purpleghoul87 · 1 year ago
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more tshirts
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skores · 10 months ago
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The Crying Child really is Vengeful
Here are some canon reasons/theories that prove cc is actually vengeful towards Michael and probably William as well. (cc means crying child)
In FNAF 1 you play as Michael (He is a night guard) and you see the words “Its Me” coming from Golden Freddy. Cc is likely taunting Michael and reminding him of what he had done (The Bite of 83) Michael did kill him after all accidental or not.
Now as we know William didn’t directly have anything to do with the Bite of 83 cc’s death so we can assume that most of cc’s rage and vengefulness is directed towards Michael.
Okay so I am going to move into more of my own theories. I think that cc might have recognised Michael unlike everyone else who confused him with William. Before I start talking more about that let’s quickly address Cassidy.
the phrase “Its Me” comes from both cc and Cassidy however I think it’s directed towards 2 different people those being Michael and William respectively. Cc is one of the only kids who WASNT killed by William. Cassidy and cc would both be a sort of vengeful golden duo in my opinion.
Now going back to cc possibly recognising Michael it goes to show that cc is MORE THAN WILLING to kill Michael probably out of revenge and rage. It also makes sense Michael did constantly bully him to the point of his death and let’s be honest Cassidy probably encouraged cc’s violence towards his brother.
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daandyli0n · 7 months ago
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alright Fnaf fans, ask game time:
Send Some Emojis For Headcanons About -
(Characters)
🐰🔪 (William Afton)
🐇❔(Mrs. Afton/Afton Mom)
🧟‍♂️ (Michael Afton)
🍦(Elizabeth Afton)
🧸 (Crying Child)
🐻🛠 (Henry Emily)
🐻❔ (Mrs. Emily)
🎭 (Charlotte "Charlie" Emily)
❓ (Samuel "Sammy" Emily)
📞 (Phone Guy and/or Phone Dude)
🌙 (Nightguards; can be all or just one)
🎂 (the MCI victims)
🔦 (Gregory)
🐺 (Cassie)
🐰🩸 (Vanessa/Vanny)
(Events/Dates)
🎭🔪 ("Take Cake to the Children"/Security Puppet/Charlie's Murder)
🐇🎂 (The MCI)
🎭🎁 ("Give Gifts, Give Life")
🐻🎭 ("SAVE THEM")
🌙🚗 (Midnight Motorist)
🤡🍦 (Elizabeth's Death)
⁉️ (The Bite of '87)
🎃 (the first 7 Fnaf games; when did they happen? where in the lore do they take place?)
🤖🪓 (Fnaf 3 End of Night Minigames)
🐰🔥 (what happened in the aftermath of the Fnaf 3 fire?)
📼🔥 (what happened in the aftermath of the Pizzeria Simulator fire?)
📂📼 (Help Wanted: when does it happen? who's the protagonist?)
🕺🎤 (Security Breach + Ruin: when do they happen? what led up to them?)
(Worldbuilding)
🐰👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 (the Afton Family; what were they like?)
🐻👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 (the Emily Family; what were they like)
🎂👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 (the MCI's Families; what were they like?)
🤖🌞 (what were the animatronics like during the day? what were their "personalities," so to speak?)
😈❓(what was Afton's motive? why did he do what he did?)
📖 (what's the general timeline? this can be as elaborate as you want)
📚 (how much Book Lore do you intertwine with the game lore?)
📰 (how major were the scandals at Freddy's? were they swept under the rug pretty well, or were they well known and unavoidable?)
(Misc.)
😇🐻 (was Henry a pretty good person, or did he Also suck in his own way?)
🐻📰 (how did Henry discover what William had done?)
🎂🫂 (did the MCI (and possibly Charlie) know each other before death? how well did they get along after they died?)
👻🐇 (who is the Vengeful Spirit/"The One You Should Not Have Killed," and why are they so pissed off at William? what had he done to them?)
🍬 (random headcanon of your choice)
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lisired · 8 months ago
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forever yours
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pairing: haechan x (f) reader
genre/warnings: smut (lots of it), horror, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood, major character death, mentions of suicide, oral (m/f receiving), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), exhibitionism
summary: Thirst for exhilaration and a stupid dare brings you, your boyfriend Haechan, and your friends to the eerie camping grounds of Chimera - the name of a town rumored to be occupied by a number of vengeful, lurking spirits. But nothing is as it seems in this ghost town.
word count: 23k (see what had happened was…)
a/n: Halloween is gone but I just could not pass the opportunity to finally write a Haechan horror fic. as always, feedback is appreciated!
There was blood in your mouth. 
A tart, pungent taste followed. Your tongue ached, crying with agony. 
You pivoted around and groaned, “What the hell?” 
As it turned out, the culprit was no other than Winter. And you were less than pleased to be met with the sight of your own best friend giggling in your face. 
“You should have seen your face,” Winter teased, laughing to the point of tears. 
You only rolled your eyes. Curse her and her stupid shenanigans. October was official and Halloween was fresh in the air and given so, she would be a constant of mischief.
Fortunately for Winter, she was your best friend. If not, you would not have hesitated to give her a very large piece of your mind. 
You whined, “You made me bite my tongue.”
Your boyfriend, Haechan, snapped out of his fury-induced trance long enough to pull you close and ask wrathfully, “You’re hurt?” 
“Just a little,” you admitted with a grimace. Now, it hurt to speak. You swayed on the heels of your feet to press a placating kiss to the corner of his lips and say, “Don’t worry, baby. I’m okay.”
Apologetic, Winter frowned and told you, “I’m sorry, bestie. I’m sure Haechan will kiss it better. Seeing as you were a total of two seconds from swallowing each other’s tongues and all.”
Like she was a fly, you swatted her away and sent her off snickering incessantly. Your boyfriend was most likely turned off by now, all things considered. You were about to kiss before Winter screeched, “Bug!” and effectively gave you the scare of your life. 
You were in the middle of nowhere, after all. Chimera was a ghost town with a very tiny population and even fewer tourist attractions because anyone who valued their life would not dare explore the haunted hell town. 
Not to mention you were in the woods. You were on creepy-crawly territory. A stupid, childish dare brought you to the wicked. Last weekend, Jaehyun instigated a game of truth or dare for old times sake, and dared you all to stay a weekend at the haunted camping site. So the story goes. Neither of you were adamant believers in ghoul tales. 
At one point in his tetchiness, Haechan’s expression began to teeter between devilish and sinister, and a very gray area existed there. His dark eyes glared into the distance, although your best friend had already sauntered off in hounding of her next victim. 
Very rarely did your boyfriend wind up on the suffering end of vexation, but having his time with you interrupted would never not do the trick. 
Every time without fail. 
Nevertheless, you couldn’t blame him, but it made your heart swell with sadness. Alas, jam-packed work schedules and even less time for yourselves, your time together nowadays was limited. You came home to each other every night, but grueling days of work meant you were often sound asleep by the time he arrived. 
Sometimes, you would bring work home with you and stay up late, but Haechan would be snoring by the time you finally finished up and crawled under the sheets of your shared bed. 
This put a bit of strain on not only your relationship, but your friendships. Which was part of the reason you agreed to the stupid dare in the first place.
Obviously, it still wasn’t just the two of you, but you’d make it work. You had to. Alongside your best friend, her boyfriend, Jaehyun, was here. Like hell he would send the love of his life into haunted woods without him there to protect her. As well as Ten and Yuta. 
Your boyfriend was still displeased. A part of you was comforted by his protectiveness over you. Still, you wanted to soothe him before all hell broke loose. Bracing a hand on your boyfriend’s chest, you consoled, “Baby, I’m fine. I swear.”
Your lover was aflame, though the sweet sound of your voice made him soften. Only a little. He made sure you were flush against his body. “Promise?”
“I promise,” you replied, grinning from ear to ear. And sending his heart gravitating towards the moon. Then, you purred, “How about we go let off some of that steam in the cabin?”
Haechan smirked and you knew that you had your boyfriend back. “I like the way that sexy brain of yours thinks.”
Giggling, the two of you raced to the cabin. 
Your new home for the weekend was a tiny wooden cabin that was surprisingly very warm and comfy. There were three in total, each surrounding a campfire area. A lake was not too far off and cleared for safe swimming. And there were a couple of trails nearby. 
For an avowedly haunted campground, it was beautiful as far as you’d seen. There were vibrant wildflowers scattered everywhere and the water was crystal-fucking-clear. The sound of nature - leaves rustling in the wind and squirrels clambering up tree branches - was pleasantly therapeutic. 
Now, you were thinking about morning sex with Haechan, moans masking the sounds of birds chirping. 
The sight of you rushing to your cabin, nearly tripping over twigs in the process, was nothing short of comical. Though you found slight humor in your desperation, there was a rationale behind your every move. Above all, you couldn’t remember the last time you and your boyfriend had sex, and you were in need of a refresher. 
The kind of refresher only good dick and loving could give you.
Haechan very nearly kicked in the door. You let out a cry of surprise when he jerked it back in place with his toe and flung you against the surface, kissing you none too gently. 
You lingered there for a long while, making out in a hot, messy battle to conquer. Your chest heaved breathlessly, moans dangling from your lips in departure as you sucked each other’s tongues with pleasure. For a second, you pulled back, bringing your lips to that sweet spot on your boyfriend’s empty neck. For now. 
When he made a sharp noise and swiftly lowered you to the bed, you knew you were in for one hell of a fucking. 
It went without saying that this was going to be a far cry from a typical round of love-making. Your boyfriend was going to fuck you until every inch of the forest knew his name.
At the sight of you fumbling with his pants, Haechan chuckled and gathered your hands in his, teasing, “Slow down, baby girl.”
“Fuck me,” you heaved, as if the air had suddenly gotten thicker. Your eyes begged for him to give what you desperately craved on behalf of your body. “Hyuck, please.”
Your boyfriend gave a shake of his head, donning the most taunting smile. “Not yet,” he said, chuckling. It was nothing short of delightful to hear you beg for him, but he needed to savor you. It had been too long. “Not before I get a taste.”
Not a second later, your core throbbed, obviously excited about something now. Haechan was quick on his feet and between your thighs in the time that it took you to blink. Your panties disappeared with a yank, quickly tossed into oblivion. Your body shivered in anticipation, knowing what was to come. Haechan ate you out better than anyone to date. 
You got comfortable, laying sprawled and vulnerable. Your boyfriend was in a temporary trance, eyeing your glistening cunt with sheer admiration. You could feel the heat of his breath there, making you tingle with want all over. 
Haechan could feel himself twitching in his pants. Fuck, you were already so damn wet. Though that was nothing new. There was something about making out with your boyfriend that could arouse you like nothing else. 
Before he caved, Haechan made sure to tease, “Be careful not to scream. Your tongue will hate me.”
That made you roll your eyes, identifying your boyfriend as his usual cocky self. Though for good reason. No man had ever made you scream much like him. “Try not to make me scream. Everyone will hate us,” you quipped. 
“No can do, baby. I’m a natural.”
With a shake of your head, you shook with laughter. Granted, there was a good amount of feet between each cabin, but when at your boyfriend’s mercy, you were loud enough to wake the worlds below and above. 
Ever the tease, Haechan lifted his lips and kissed his way from your belly down to the vertex of your plush thighs. You made a noise, noticing he’d skipped between. He nibbled at the edges, rendering you impatient and weaker. You could only writhe and whimper, aware that you were being tested. Or toyed with, for that matter. 
Then, your lover went to town, having his fill of riling you up. You shuddered, eyes closing the very second his tongue muscled in your slick folds. Every muscle in your body was taut with tension. A kind of tension only concocted over time by a lack thereof to be broken loose.
There was a catch in your breath when Haechan lapped at you without holding back. He was a creature of desire, fingernails clamped harshly into your unfurled thighs. You were already moaning, already crying his name. There was no limit on him, none on pleasure when with him. You could already sense the tension dwindling in place of a different kind; the ecstatic variety. 
Though you had been inclined to watch the view, your head angled back in a soft sigh, flush against the pillows. It was a talent how effortlessly Haechan could dismantle you. More or less. The language of your body was indefinitely etched into his memory. 
“God. Oh my fucking…,” you gasped, sentence interrupted by an ensuing moan. This was only the beginning and yet already you were undone. 
Haechan tasted your arousal on the very tip of his tongue and let out an unrestrained, beast-like growl of pleasure. In your mind, it almost seemed fitting. He lapped at you like a ravenous creature. But in his mind, you were the one to blame. You always had to taste so damn sweet. 
You fisted locks of his hair in your fingers, back arching when he targeted your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your body was aflame, and you could feel the blood pumping through your veins hotly. “Don’t stop. Baby, please don’t stop,” you choked, promptly reduced to whimpers of pleasure. And cries of your lover’s name. 
A vortex of pleasure consumed you, tossing you unceremoniously around the eye. Your thighs and toes tingled, a sign that your entire body was very much awake and alert. It came to life at Haechan’s touch, turned on at the way his tongue pivoted on your clit and penetrated your tight hole. There were sparks broiling under your skin, ignited everywhere. 
Haechan slid two fingers inside your pulsing cunt and your eyes promptly rolled to the back of your skull. 
For whatever reason, he was grinning from ear to ear. This was far from his first rodeo, and after years of this relationship, he had the once-mystery of your mind and body completely unraveled. No matter how much you tried to writhe away, overstimulated by the pleasure, there was no such thing as escape.  
He liked watching you squirm as if you had anywhere to flee, bracing his palms on your naked thighs. He liked watching you involuntarily arch your back and rock your hips into his mouth with greed, your systems entering shutdown. Even more, he liked that he made so much of a mess of you that you could hardly seem to tell what you wanted anymore, but the arousal dripping from your cunt was a telltale sign of desire. 
Just like magic, weeks of stress were long-forgotten. Haechan singlehandedly set you at ease and riled you up all the while. Tears of pleasure welled in your eyes and you clamped tightly around his fingers. 
You never knew pleasure of this capacity existed before your boyfriend. He brought you to a different sphere and back, took you higher than you’d ever been. Darn the world. Your boyfriend showed you the universe and made you see every star visible to your eyes. No one had ever made you feel like this. 
Which was not unbeknown to Haechan. When you began to explore your sexuality together, you detailed your past sexcapades very thoroughly to him. None as sensational as those with your boyfriend. As it turned out, they all lacked one thing in common; a partner with as much devotion to your satisfaction as your own. 
They treated pleasuring you like it was menial drudgery. Not Haechan. Even now, he was ignoring the way his cock twitched between his thighs, aching to be freed. Your pleasure was paramount and he would not rest until he made you come. 
He wanted to be the only one you needed and proved to you every single day that you were destined to be together. And you were content with that. You wondered how on earth you’d finally been lucky enough to find a guy that loved you as much as he loved himself. There was no one else for you, you knew that in your bones. Everything felt meant to be with him. 
Unshakable and intangible. You wouldn’t have it any other way. This was a boy you would die and give your soul for. 
And also wanted to suck the soul out of. 
“Haechan, please. Fuck. Please,” you whimpered meekly, without a shred of idea of what you were even begging for. 
Though Haechan knew. You were simply so predictable to him by now. He learned to recognize when you were near, all of the glaringly obvious signs, given that you were not subtle in the slightest. With you grinding into his mouth, it was no secret you were on the verge of a sweet release. 
Haechan let his fingers pull the weight and clamped his teeth into the core of your thighs, then growled, “Come on, my pretty girl. Let go for me.”
Your dear boyfriend became ruthless at light speed, devouring you whole with his tongue like he wanted to leave not even a crumb of you to remain. His fingers were double kill, strumming you to ecstasy. 
Your body submitted to his commands, because of course it did. Haechan dominated you. Even if you wanted to disobey him, it was your body’s natural choice to comply. Every inch of you was owned by your lover and he had no intention of giving it back. Not that you wanted it. You took delight in handing him the reins. 
You were unstill, shaken with orgasm. There was a sharp tingle, swelling up your spine and closing in all over. It was too much. Your pussy throbbed, kneading his fingers hotly and you gave one final cry of his name before your body caved in to destruction, instantly going limp.  
Though you were overwhelmed, you should have known Haechan was far from finished. Never one to stop at a single orgasm, your boyfriend ate you out until you physically could not take it anymore, making you shudder with unalloyed pleasure over and over and over again. 
And given how long it had been since your boyfriend’s head had been between your thighs, you weren’t necessarily complaining.
Your chest was heaving and you were clinging to whatever remained of your breath for dear life when he eased up. Your most intense orgasms were always due to a combination of your boyfriend’s relentlessness and your extreme pent-up stress or sexual frustration. 
“You screamed a lot,” Haechan said, sucking your arousal off his fingers and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 
You fought a tiny smirk. You always loved the way he looked with your arousal coating his plush, pink lips. Instead, you rolled your eyes and retorted through ragged breath, “Fuck you.”
Haechan casted a smug grin and didn’t hesitate to scoff, “I’m sure you want to.”
Damn it. Now you were absorbed in the thought of him fucking you within an inch of your life. “Please… I can’t wait anymore,” you begged, core still aching no matter how many times he pleasured you. He made you insatiable. 
“I could never tell my pretty girl ‘no,’” Haechan crooned, inching in on you to scoop you in his sun-kissed arms. You giggled when he surprised you with a kiss. “I’ll take care of you.”
As always. 
True to his word, your wonderful boyfriend began to shred himself of his clothes. With your voluntary assistance, of course. You gaped open-mouthed at the sight of his thick cock standing at attention against his stomach, lost for words and short of breath.
Never passing up the opportunity to tease you, Haechan chaffed, “Baby, close your mouth. You’ll catch flies.”
Heat wafted over you. Your voice was small, “Haechan…,”
“Shh. I know, baby. I know,” he whispered. 
Your lover kneeled between your thighs and you spread them for him instantly. Haechan smirked at how pliant you were. He never needed to ask, because it was simply second nature for your body to bend to his every will. 
He tapped his cock against your folds, asking, “How rough do you want it?”
“Break me,” you rasped without a second thought. 
Haechan grinned, full of mischief. 
He pushed in nice and slow, never wanting to hurt you. He lowered his head and met his lips to yours, kissing you as if it would distract you from the feeling of being slowly but surely stretched open. “Open up for me,” he hissed, pulse pumping at how tightly you gripped his cock, on the border of something vice-like. 
“You’re so… so big,” you choked out, anchoring yourself in the sheets with your nails. 
“Mm. Yeah?” Haechan asked, the slyest of smiles on his lips. “But you can take it. Isn’t that right, baby?”
You bobbed your head and your mouth parted, passing a soft moan. 
Haechan thought you wrapped around his bare cock too good, too withering and tight. He was sure pleasure of this magnitude only lived between you and him, irreplicable. Even so quickly you were making short work of him, leaving him with shackled self-restraint and half a mind to destroy what was left of you. 
You forwent the condoms roughly half a year into the relationship. Which was two and a half years ago. Though you took birth control pills and had no intention of becoming pregnant any time soon, if you were to have anyone’s baby, you knew it would only be your boyfriend’s. Thoughts of carrying his baby and raising a child together in your home plagued your mind, and you smiled from ear to ear. 
Your boyfriend glanced at you through his lashes and an invisible string tugged his heart at the sight of you. “What’re you smiling about?”
“You,” you said with hesitation. “I love you. And I want to love you forever.”
“Funny thing to say to the guy that’s about to wreck you.”
You rolled your eyes. It would kill him to be serious even for a second. You added, “He’s also the love of my life.”
Haechan softened. Only a little. “I love you, too,” he whispered, touch betraying his affectionate words as his fingers found purchase at the flesh of your hips. 
A grimace painted your face as Haechan sank his nails deeper and deeper. 
From that point on, Haechan fucked you as if he loathed all there was about you, save for your body. He kept a brutal pace, seemingly fucking you fuller and fuller of his cock with every passing push. Over your soft moans, you could hear his hips meeting yours with a loud, resounding thwack, and your cunt gushing hotly. 
Upon his death-grip, your lover’s name dangled from your tongue in dangerously sharp cries, sweet as honey and thick as tar. Your fingers scouted his biceps, desperate for some kind of anchorage. Haechan let out a dangerously low growl and you immediately tightened. For as long as you’d known him, your boyfriend had always been somewhere in the gray area between sadism and masochism. 
When asked about it, he told you, “There’s no such thing as pleasure without pain, baby. A very thin line separates the two.”
As twisted as it sounded, you agreed. 
The bed and your bodies performed in league to fill the void in the cabin, the former creaking with every reverberating slap of the latter meeting together. 
You were unapologetically vocal, but Haechan too sang his praises when balls deep inside you. At first, you were pleasantly surprised by his unabashed responses. Most of the guys you’d been with prior would stifle anything above a throaty groan. But when your body talked to him, he spoke back even louder. 
Your boyfriend never hid his affection for you. You were the reason he breathed everyday and he would let his body tell you as much. 
Haechan clamped his tanned arm around your throat and you whimpered. The chokehold was tight just enough to not harm you, but still have you begging for breath. He gave you nowhere else to look but his dark eyes, gleaming darkly with lust and lust only. 
He was all you could see. More specifically his eyes. Yours were locked there, unable to glance away. The only time they were out of sight was whenever your vision was peeling off at the edges by inevitable darkness. 
Haechan cocked his head a little, observing his creation. You were coming apart at the seams, eyes widened and lips parted, trying to take in oxygen. “Hard enough for you, baby?”
“Harder,” you managed to croak.  
Your boyfriend shook his head and laughed. Though nothing surprised him anymore. You took whatever he gave you with an insatiable kind of greed, as if there was no such thing as enough where he was involved. 
Even when sated, you only kept coming back for more. 
His pace was hard and unabating. A sharp cry split your lips when he bit your neck, nibbling at the flesh as he roughly fucked you into the mattress. You were unstill, a depthless well of ecstasy. Pleasure knew no boundaries. It was too greedy. It took, consumed, and it dominated. 
Haechan was right. There was a thin line between pain and pleasure and you were somewhere in the middle, teetering in between. 
The entire room was scorching. You soaked in the sight of sweat beading at your boyfriend’s forehead and gushed hotly around his cock, limbs locked together like a cluster of vines, hot skin on even hotter skin. Haechan’s grip on your throat slackened to hear you moan clearer when his tongue laced into you instead. 
You sweltered. And were positive that you would die. What a marvelous way to die, you thought humorously. With the love of your life by your side. You would have it no other way. 
Your back arched and you rocked your hips into his, desperate for more heat and friction. Only he could give it to you. 
That was how Haechan could tell you were close and he brought his fingers to your wet sex, strumming your swollen bundle of nerves. He was almost there and he wanted you to finish together. You cried out his name, clasping his biceps. 
“Cum. You know you want to,” Haechan hummed tauntingly. 
Your legs wrapped around his hips to draw him deeper inside. There was something about being at the brink of climax that rendered your entire body weak. Every piece of you was tempted into doing whatever he desired; whatever his heart desired. You wanted to please him. More than anything, you wanted to make him proud.
Haechan clamped his hands around your throat anew and that was all it took to finish you. Your mouth opened, crying his name as you finally crossed the threshold of orgasm. The tingles returned, prickling with the warm, pumping blood through your limbs. 
You gripped his cock and he came in turn, filling you to the brim with warmth with a sweet, high-pitched moan of your name. 
Haechan glanced over at you. He never got enough of the look on your pretty face when you shuddered, still throbbing and milking his cock dry until he eventually stilled inside you. You heaved for breath and his eyes soaked in your whole body, barely fighting a smile as he noticed all of the bruises and marks leftover. 
He never wanted to hurt you, but subconsciously, there was a part of him that found twisted pleasure. It meant you were his. He owned you, but you owned him. Every inch. 
For a while, you both only laid there, smiling and laughing at each other. Then, Haechan swooped you into his arms and muttered into the crook of your neck, “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 
You beamed. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” Haechan replied, pressing the lightest of kisses to your lips. 
“No, I love you more.”
Haechan whined, “Jesus, woman. I love you more, and that’s final.”
The two of you continued to bicker as if you were teenagers in love for the very first time. It reminded you of the early stages of your relationship, stealing and prolonging time before the other had to leave by initiating an “I love you” battle. 
As the years passed, you learned to savor every moment you had together. Time became scarcer by the day. It was not to be had when you were two adults with heavy workloads. 
Your boss made it his mission to call you into work even on weekends. Before he died, at least. That was a couple of weeks ago and needless to say, you were not very disappointed. 
“Rest in hell,” you remembered your co-worker saying. To which you quipped, “No rest for the wicked.”
Haechan crawled back into bed with you after you were both all clean and the two of you fell asleep in each other’s arms. You could hardly remember the last time you had. It was always him after you or vice versa. Never together. 
This haunted campground trip would ironically prove to be a nice oasis in a busy stage of your lives, it seemed. 
A shrill scream penetrated the night and you were jolted awake. 
Haechan wiped at his tired eyes and his voice was thick with sleepiness, “Is that Winter screaming in terror, because of Jay, or was that Ten?” 
You nudged your boyfriend. “No, that’s definitely terror. The last time I heard that sound was when Winter walked in on Yuta taking a piss.”
“They all scream like girls.”
“You scream like a girl.”
Haechan whined, “Whose side are you on?” 
Laughing, you shoved the duvet off your bodies and said, “Come on. Let’s go make sure these woods aren’t actually haunted.”
“Or worse - Yuta didn’t forget to zip the bathroom door,” he quipped. 
You snickered. 
Your boyfriend caged you behind his body, insisting that he wanted you to flee in the presence of any actual danger, and he led you outside the cabin. A shroud of fog hung near the ground. The sky was darker than the last you’d seen, perpetually mistier.
Haechan sauntered over to Yuta with you in convey and asked, “What’s with all the raucous?” 
“Winter’s idea of a spooky Halloween,” Yuta said dryly, hands at his hips. 
Your eyes rose and you saw Winter pointing fingers and snickering at a dismayed Ten, hairs standing on end. You figured he must have been the latest victim of her scares. 
Ten’s chest heaved as he yelled, “You are not funny!” 
Winter stuck her tongue out, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Damn right. I’m hi-fucking-larious.”
Jaehyun walked by, chuckling, and announced with a bag of marshmallows in clutch, “Time for s’mores.” 
At the mention of s’mores, the six of you huddled together around the campfire like children at the distribution of sweet candy. Danger dissuaded none of you. Each of you were intent on treating this as a typical camping trip. Per your boyfriend’s idea, your phones were in a cardboard box in Ten and Yuta’s cabin for safekeeping, there were plenty of outdoor activities to keep you entertained, and you were going to spend the weekend bonding together. 
Chimera, as wicked as it may have been, was eerily beautiful. And its nature was on another level. 
“Calories,” Winter squealed rather fondly, clapping excitedly.
You soured the mood and said, “And cavities.”
Winter shot you a glare and had she not been on the other side of fire, she would have leapt over and nudged you in the elbow. 
Instead, your best friend replied coolly, “Don’t worry. I packed Jay and I’s toothbrushes. I sent a reminder in the group chat, so I hope you guys didn’t forget.” 
“I came extensively prepared,” Ten said, snatching a graham cracker from Jaehyun and shoving it in his mouth. Much to Winter’s amusement and Jaehyun’s chagrin. “I brought toothbrushes, books, water, ear plugs, flashlights…” 
Haechan interrupted, “Ear plugs?”
Ten scoffed, “Oh, yes. You and your girlfriend and Jaehyun and Winter are notorious for going all night. I’d rather die than hear those two getting dicked down.”
“You’re just jealous,” you snapped lightheartedly. 
Ten reached for a marshmallow and defended himself a little too swiftly, “Oh, honey. I get dicked down on the regular, but you guys have fun.”
Yuta leaned into your ear from the right and whispered, “And strapped down by you in his dreams.”
“I heard that,” Ten hissed. 
Yuta played innocent and said, “Heard what?” 
Your boyfriend heard it, too, but he only pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of your lips, rubbing it in Ten’s face. 
For his comfort, the topic changed.
The treats began to cook at long last. Haechan made you a s’more, seeing as you were a camping amateur, and you merely watched with fondness twinkling in your eyes. You were so out of your mind in love with your boyfriend that even the simplest of gestures made your heart swell with warmth. 
For the second s’more, Haechan guided you. You stuffed a marshmallow on the tip of a roasting stick and he held your hands in his as you held it over the fire. “Not too close. You don’t want it to catch on fire,” were his words, a certain concentration in his eyes tempting your heart to leap into the wavering flames. 
Ensuing was a treat of chocolatey goodness. 
Your friends were laughing and telling jokes over the campfire and somehow you became so engrossed in the conversation that you didn’t notice your third marshmallow was burning until it was too late. “I burned my marshmallow,” you announced with a frown. 
Yuta had finished up with his, but out of the kindness of his heart, offered to switch. “Have mine,” he insisted. 
“You’re too kind. Thank you,” you replied, appreciative. 
Then, you glanced over to your boyfriend, though he was still chattering with the rest of your friends. For a second, you thought it went unnoticed, but he laced his fingers through yours without a word and that was the end. 
You smiled. He was nothing like any of your past lovers. They were over-possessive and controlling, demanding your constant and undivided attention. Haechan, at worst, was a little clingy. 
He never got jealous over tiny, harmless gestures. The bar was so goddamn low, but finally having a normal guy made you prone to constant comparisons. He was totally chill when you were in the company of male friends and the only time he ever got upset was when you were hurt. 
Which was completely understandable. Instead of seeing you as an object to own, it represented his genuine respect and care for you. 
He’s the one, you thought with a stupid smile on your face. Even your parents agreed and were already calling him their son-in-law. Most people you dated prior didn’t even make it past the front lawn of their house. 
“Did you guys know that Chimera is actually named after a Greek mythical creature?” Ten asked, ever the bookworm. 
Jaehyun insincerely sneered, “Nerd.”
Ten ignored him with a roll of his eyes and continued, “In Greek mythology, the Chimera were fire-breathing creatures that appeared as a lion with a goat head on its back, and a snake for a tail.”
Haechan asked curiously, “Isn’t it also genetic mutations?”
“In biology, yes,” Ten said matter-of-factly. “It refers to organisms with several different genetic complications or DNA molecules with sequences from different organisms done by laboratories.”
“Wow. What a way to take us back to high school,” Yuta teased. 
You shook your head, intrigued. “No, no. I’m interested. Ten, continue.”
Ten flushed a little and his voice was quieter when he added, “Chimera also means a creature of the imagination. It’s something you dream of, but it’s a tantalizing, unattainable desire.”
Winter chimed in, “I’ve heard stories about Chimera. These woods particularly.”
“Me, too,” Jaehyun said. “The gruesome deaths, the questionable suicides. No wonder nobody wants to come out here, as beautiful as it is.”
You retorted, “Then, what does that make the six of us?”
They laughed. 
“I heard a girl killed herself in these very woods,” Yuta said, voice low over the crackling sound of fire. “But rumor has it she was actually slaughtered.”
“In the early nineteen-eighties. I remember,” Ten replied, slightly unnerved. 
Haechan snickered. “You weren’t even born yet.”
“I read a lot.”
That was obvious. 
Winter whispered eerily, “They say that sometimes you can still hear her footsteps dragging across the dirt, lurking in the night’s darkness.” 
Perfectly on cue, there was an eerie sound from the woods and you couldn’t convince yourself that you were the only one to hear it because each of your heads whipped around all at once. Haechan instinctively coiled an arm around you, prepared to protect you even against the soul of a girl that killed herself forty years ago if he could. 
Or maybe she really didn’t commit suicide. Maybe her killer painted her death as a suicide and now she was seeking revenge on humankind for not seizing the murderer. 
You immediately scolded yourself for being so silly. There was no such thing as ghosts or monsters. You believed in one evil and it was the human race. It’s probably just a squirrel or something, you reassured yourself. A squirrel with painfully inconvenient timing. 
Glancing between your boyfriend, Jaehyun, Ten, and Yuta, you said, “And what the hell are the four of you sitting around for? You’re the men! Go investigate.”
Ten was purely dismayed by the mere thought. “And because I’m a man I should be sacrificed to the devil? Absolutely not. This is how people die in horror movies. They go around poking their nose into places they have no business when they should be running for their lives.”
“Let’s go together,” Haechan said, throwing you all assertive glances. 
There was some reluctance, but you all begrudgingly agreed. As they say, no man left behind. Haechan still kept you flush to his chest, as did Jaehyun with Winter. He had his burly arms coiled above her hips. 
“There’s no girl in the woods,” Yuta murmured under his breath. But you heard him through the thick, strained silence. 
Jaehyun quipped, “Who knows. Maybe there’s one for you and you’ll stop showing my girlfriend your penis.”
Yuta retorted, “She’s the one that walks in on me. Maybe your girlfriend wants to see my penis.”
“Please be quiet,” Winter whined. 
Jaehyun, on a mission to be the world’s greatest boyfriend (and a few places behind, in your biased opinion), silenced himself on command and tightened his clasp below her ribs. He wasn’t all too convinced that there was a ghost in the woods, but he wanted to ease her. It was far more likely that you were all overthinking the sound of some animal minding its business. 
Your boyfriend had the exact same idea and held you even tighter. Whenever in the face of danger, his first instinct was - and would always be - to protect you. Only over his dead body would he allow harm to come your way. 
But even in his soothing embrace there was still a sinister energy that plagued you, alerting you that there was something amiss here. Fog blurred your vision and darkness wore at it, making it difficult to see clearly. 
Ten was prepared as always and turned on one of those flashlights he had mentioned earlier. He handed it to your boyfriend, the one currently leading your pack of six. 
Ever courageous, he led each of you through the night’s wilderness, your pulse thumping in your body the entire time. For whatever reason, the fear in you was unshakable. You had no clue where it emerged from, but it completely unnerved you. 
A sound of twigs snapping stunned you all and Haechan shone the light at a tree where the noise seemed to come from, just quick enough to see a squirrel scurrying up a tree trunk. As far as any of you could tell, it was the same tree the first noise sounded from. Haechan assuringly declared, “It was just a squirrel.”
Your breaths came easier. Exactly what you suspected, but it would never hurt to be one-hundred percent sure. Though even with that burden off your shoulders, unease still penetrated you. 
Jaehyun, Yuta, and your boyfriend seemed fearless, while Ten and Winter were relieved that they’d been frightened over nothing. But you were still not entirely convinced. 
Was it only you? 
The rumors and spooky stories are getting to my head. That’s all, you consoled yourself. You’re in apparently haunted woods. Woods alone are scary enough, haunted or not. And this is your first time. Fear is natural. 
Each of you turned around and headed back to the campfire you hadn’t dared strayed too far from and sensing your unease from a mile away, Haechan pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Don’t be scared, baby girl. If any monster pops out, it will have to get through me before it hurts you,” he whispered softly in your ears. 
“I don’t want you to get hurt, either,” you huffed, voice muffled as you put your head in your boyfriend’s chest. 
“Don’t worry about me,” he told you sweetly. “I’ve been told I resemble a bear. The worst-case scenario is one attacks the trashcan and I have to communicate with it to discourage it.”
“And what if it’s a wolf?” 
Haechan tightened his hold on you, purring, “Well, I’ve also been told I’m big and bad.”
You snickered. Leave it to your wonderful boyfriend to melt your worries away with his equally brilliant humor. He made you forget why you had even been so scared in the first place, all by kissing you and making you laugh. 
The six of you decided you’d had your fill of spooky stories for one night and retired to your cabins for bed. You heard more than a couple of noises from the cabin across from you - Jaehyun and Winter’s - and promptly wished you would have also had the brilliant idea of bringing some noise-cancellation headphones. 
Fortunately for you, your boyfriend was a self-proclaimed genius (and maybe once or twice you fed his ego and agreed), and had an even better idea. He fucked you so hard that you tuned out the rest of the world, unable to hear anything over both of your own moans. 
In the morning, you woke up and took your time to crawl out of bed. Haechan had worn you out and you could still feel the soreness in your thighs from the night before. Not to mention the gentle morning sex you dreamed of, moans soft over the sound of birds tweeting quietly. 
It was closer to afternoon when you finally went outside and got some sunlight. Everyone was in their own atmosphere. You ate breakfast and listened to mother nature for a while. 
There was a lake walking distance from the campground and one of the boys called out your name, boarding two three-person canoes. You recognized the voice as Jaehyun’s and he asked, “Wanna go canoeing with us?”
You mulled it over, but noticing Ten’s eyes on you was all the discouragement you needed. Each of the four boys were aboard, including your boyfriend. Ten was as dear a friend to you as the other two, but that was it. No part of you wanted to make things even more awkward and strained in the friendship than they already were. 
Though you and Haechan may not have dropped any comments, Ten’s lingering eyes were definitely not lost on either of you. Besides, being with a bunch of guys was not your idea of a vacation well-spent. You refused to leave Winter alone at a potentially haunted campground. 
For that reason, you had a feeling that Jaehyun was only asking to tease Ten, but you declined the offer nonetheless and said sweetly, “I’m good. I’ll stay and keep Winter company. You guys have some brotherly bonding time.”
The boys told you to have fun and you bid them likewise. 
You immediately scouted Winter afterwards and found her taking pictures of wildflowers. Unnoticed, you decided to slowly creep towards her, but your fun was ruined when she said without turning around, “I know you’re there. You can’t beat the master at her own game.”
You frowned.
Winter turned around, smirking at the fact that she’d caught you with your trousers down. “What’s up, bestie?”
You flopped against a blanket she’d sprawled across the ground. “Do you think Ten likes me?” you asked, fidgeting. 
“As more than a friend? Definitely,” your best friend said, coming to join you. “Jaehyun told me the boys are going canoeing. I can only hope Haechan doesn’t try to drown him.”
You knew she was only being funny, but the thought made you shiver. Of course, you knew your boyfriend well and he would never. The trust you had in each other was all needed to comfort him and to know that you were all his was more than enough. 
He could be possessive, but not over-possessive. He liked to stake his claim to you, holding you and kissing you in front of people so they knew you were his, and leaving visible marks on your neck in  your alone time for the same purpose. He never demanded your complete attention, as much as he adored being in the center. 
Tiny gestures never made him feel bitter. You had no painful memories of your boyfriend’s jealousy. The opposite, rather. He fucked you extra hard until he felt better. 
You fought a smirk. At worst, he was a little meaner than usual. But damn it did you like it when he was mean and rough. 
You defended your boyfriend and said, “My boyfriend is an angel. He doesn’t get jealous.”
“Your boyfriend is a Gemini. Duh, he gets jealous,” Winter argued teasingly, seeing dead through you. A silent understanding passed between you. She liked the jealousy sex, too. “He was so mad at me yesterday.”
“That’s because he was angry. Not jealous. You hurt me and he hates when I’m hurt.” 
“Whatever,” your best friend replied, fondling with her camera that Jaehyun bought her for her birthday this January. “Wouldn’t it be funny if I reviewed the pictures and I saw a ghost?”
You grimaced. “That’s one way to put it. For sure.”
“Okay, maybe not funny. But I don’t think these woods are haunted. I believe the stories about the suicides and murders, but evil spirits? That’s a humongous stretch.”
Never mind yesterday’s confidence. Now, you only shuddered. Though you wanted to agree, there was something about these woods that rubbed you the completely wrong way. And it wasn’t only the tales of ghosts. There was an intangible kind of fear ready to consume you. No matter how badly you wanted to, you couldn’t put your finger on where it stemmed from. 
That was unnerving to you. Only the weekend before, you were more than excited. There was no telling what traps laid waiting in Chimera, much less its woods, which made you all the more determined to unravel its mystery. 
Now, you wanted to leave the knots as tangled as they’d been discovered. 
“I guess,” you told Winter. If she thought nothing of the environment, then there was a chance you were overthinking it all. 
Winter heaved a pleased sigh. “It’s hard to imagine anyone could taint such a beautiful place with blood,” she said, gesturing around to Mother Nature’s handiwork.
 “That sounded strangely poetic,” you replied, feeling as if you were in some sort of murder mystery novel. 
Winter snickered. “As my favorite writer once said, ‘believe nothing you hear, and only one half that you see.’”
You gave your best friend a look and asked expectantly, “And what does Edgar Allan Poe have to do with anything?”
“Nothing.” Winter shrugged her shoulders. “I just found it fitting.” 
You laughed a little. In spite of its reputation, Chimera was by far one of the most beautiful places you had ever seen. Unsurprisingly, however, that alone wasn’t enough to attract tourists. When you checked the campground website, you ironically noticed they used its hauntedness as promotion to lure campers. 
Clearly, it was working. 
You found it interesting that Chimera was predominantly grass and trees. There were some signs of civilization, as you’d notice on the way to the campground, though mainly towards the center. Areas placed on the periphery of the town were especially rural. 
For instance, the woods. Wildflowers consumed your vision and you understood why Winter was at peace here. You bit your lip. You didn’t want to be a buzz kill, but asked quietly, “Do you ever get the feeling that something you fear is hiding in plain sight?”
Winter nudged you gently. “What do you mean?” 
“It’s just… I don’t know,” you exhaled frustratedly. “Something about this place keeps me on my toes.” 
“Do you think that girl was killed here?” 
You shrugged, trying to feign some semblance of nonchalance. “I think it would be easy to kill anybody here and get away with it. Think about it. There’s a lot of empty land to cover. Easier to live off the grid. You could be abducted from the mainland and no one would ever find you.”
“Okay, you’re thinking too hard,” Winter quipped with a wince. “I get why you’re scared, babe. But I also think you’re supposed to feel that way. For obvious reasons. What you need is a little distraction.”
That made you well with curiosity. “Like what?”
The second the boys were back from canoeing you and your best friend made a beeline to boyfriends, as if you couldn’t wait another. Winter had insisted only moments ago that good dick was all the distraction you needed and as badly as you wanted to make a spiteful argument, you had none to offer. 
But you also wanted to simply talk to Haechan for a while. Not only was he a lover, but a friend wrapped into one. Your boyfriend had a natural ability to abate your fears, but he was also someone that would listen to them and help you wrap your head around them.
You fought a snicker at how badly that made him sound like a therapist. After this trip, you had a feeling you might’ve needed one. 
Haechan sensed there was something off even from the other side of the lake and coiled an arm around below your ribs as soon as he got a chance, asking, “What’s wrong?”
Your eyes flickered. “How’d you know?”
“Gut feeling,” Haechan said with a shrug. “I know when my baby’s suffering. Talk to me.” 
Your heart promptly ricocheted against your ribcage. You glanced around. Jaehyun and Winter had already snuck off to their cabin for some loving while Yuta and Ten were chattering about whatever, but you still were in need of some privacy. 
You slithered into his arms and murmured, “I wanna be alone. With you.”
“There’s a nice little two-mile trail over here. Takes you around and back from over that way. We could shortcut it and be back in about thirty minutes or take the long way and come back in about sixty.”
“Let’s do it,” you said, gesturing for him to lead the way. 
Going deeper into the forbidden woods was not your idea of resolving your fears, but the marvelous landscape gave you little room for complaints. Plus, being there with your boyfriend was almost romantic. 
There was something about all this beauty that made you fear what was cloaked beneath. 
Haechan was very patient with you and for a while you both walked in silence, absorbing your surroundings until he said, “Ready to tell me what’s on your mind?”
“I don’t know what it is, really. But this place gives me the creeps and I can’t explain why. It just does.” 
“It’s not just the reputation, is it?” Haechan asked, seeing right through you. 
It was almost scary how perfectly Haechan could piece you together. Nobody had you more figured out than he did. “You read me so well,” you murmured. 
Haechan chuckled. “I call it the fear of the unknown. You don’t know what’s out there, so anything could be out there. The shit we fear is often the same shit we can’t control, and that’s why it scares us.”
“Does the unknown scare you?” 
“No,” Haechan said, but draped an arm over you as a reminder you weren’t alone. “I like unpredictability. Anything could happen. But I understand why it terrifies some people.”
You teased, “Then, what are you afraid of?”
Your boyfriend’s tone and response in general was a hell of a lot more sober than you were expecting, “Stagnation and routine. I hate being confined to patterns. You already know that, though.”
That you did. Haechan mentioned he was considering switching jobs solely because he wanted more flexibility in life. The pay was nice and so was the insurance and paid vacations, but something had to give. 
You supported him wholeheartedly, of course. Haechan never minded change and would have no problem adjusting, plus only having weekends (and scarce vacations) to each other was a ginormous test of your patience. He wanted more out of life. If he couldn’t spend it with you, then he saw little point. 
“Is that all?” you pressed. He was brave, but not fearless. The reminder was very warm to you. And strangely comforting. 
Haechan said without hesitation, “And losing you because of them.”
Damn it. Now, your heart was racing. It was no question how your boyfriend managed to sweep you off your feet. He was full of endless charm and sincerity. There was a kind of passion to him about you that was undeniable and never questionable. 
You abandoned your self-restraint at the campground and rose off the heels of your shoes, meeting your lips to his. He had to be out of his goddamn mind if he thought he would lose you any time soon. There was no way in hell you would be capable of replacing him. In a world without your boyfriend, you would rather die lonely. 
There was also something about learning your boyfriend’s fears that took the edge off your own. Maybe whatever they were rooted in was much simpler. This place spooked you because of the reputation attached. That was all. 
And now that you were making out with your boyfriend, his heavy hands on your hips, you really couldn’t have given less of a damn about these woods. 
He had the same idea and pulled you over by a tree. For a second, you clung onto your mind long enough to wonder what in the hell you were doing. Then, you lost it just as quickly. There was nothing but trees and plants out here. And maybe a couple of animals that would soon be traumatized. With the coast clear, you were welcome to be as reckless as you liked. 
Haechan instructed, “Knees.” 
You wasted absolutely no time in scrambling to your knees, what was left of your mind too warped to give a damn about the twigs crunching beneath your kneecaps. As always, you wanted to pleasure him and make him proud. Whatever the price may have been, you’d gladly pay it. No matter the sacrifice. 
Your boyfriend was amused, though not at all surprised when you hurriedly reached for his pants, tugging them down before he got the chance to give the order. You wanted to taste that big dick down your throat. 
There was something about Haechan’s size that made your mouth water and gape, ripe and ready, though also left you clenching around nothing at all. Obviously, you’d seen it a number of times before, but the element of surprise was a constant, non-changing factor. Damn it, you would never get tired of his cock. 
Haechan noticed the dazed look in your eyes and smirked. He tapped his cock against your lips and said, “Do you got it, or do you want me to fuck your throat?” 
“I’m going to suck the soul out of you,” you said with an unwavering kind of confidence. 
Haechan gave a snicker. He fisted your hair behind your head and you swiftly got to work, wasting not another second to swirl your tongue around the base of his cock. You liked riling him up, liked taking your time to draw him between your lips and you knew your boyfriend liked it, too. No matter how much he bitched and whined.
“Fuck,” Haechan whined when your tongue teased the tip. He was hard as bricks, which took pretty much nothing to happen whenever you were involved. 
You took his noises with delight, doing your best to ignore the tireless thumping between your plush thighs. As a distraction, you finally drew him inside your mouth, steadily swallowing him inch by damn inch as a measure to prevent yourself from gagging. Your cheeks were hollowed, breath entering through your nose. 
Haechan’s grip on your hair tightened as he hissed, a telltale sign you were doing something very right. Your mouth was so unfathomably darn warm around his size that he was beginning to lose his mind, but to be frank, he lost it the very same day he met you. 
A part of him used to hope that you would give it back, but insanity was a close friend of his now. Or maybe it was the dormant monster living eternally inside him, roused by you for whatever reason. And it was ravenously hungry. 
A kind of greed came over and dominated you, possessing you to suck him like you genuinely intended to suck the soul out of him. As many times as you’d done it before, there could only be so much of his soul still there, though not pleasure. Pleasure was forever and always. “Just like that,” Haechan moaned, basking in the heat of your tongue pressed to his cock. 
His praises only spurred you on. There was nothing you liked more than knowing how good you could make your boyfriend feel. Between the two of you lay a ride-or-die bond that nobody else would ever fathom. Even you somehow couldn’t comprehend how or why he drove you so crazy. You only knew you would do unspeakable things to please your boyfriend and sucking him off in the woods was far from the most bizarre thing on the list of shit you were willing to do. 
You made eye contact with a traumatized rabbit for a whole second and it was all you could do to keep yourself from laughing and spoiling the mood. You gripped the base of Haechan’s cock, sucking him and stroking him all the while. 
None of this should’ve had you dripping the way it did, but you could feel yourself only getting even wetter. You gagged a couple of times (with his size, it was inevitable) but never stopped, a sting of tears in your eyes forming out of twisted pleasure. 
Haechan liked looking down and seeing you on your knees way too much, his dick in your mouth and your tear-stained face glancing back up at him. Fuck, you knew what it did to him when you looked at him like that. 
Like a pretty little thing warped completely by him. 
“I’m gonna cum,” Haechan said, tugging your hair. You hissed, but as he once said, there was no pleasure without pain. Nowhere did you say you didn’t get a thrill out of the sting. “Shit, baby. Are you gonna take it?”
You bobbed your head, humming around him and having a laugh smothered when he promptly made a noise of pleasure. He always wanted to last longer, but you made short work of him. A weakness if he knew one. 
Noting that he was close to his peak, you pulled out all the stops to bring him to sweet release as quickly as possible. You loved witnessing your boyfriend disentangle, loved when he was running on empty without an inch of self-control. Haechan was at his worst here, rutting against your mouth to meet your pace with a roughness that never ceased to make you gag. 
He was fucking your throat nice and hard, pulling your hair to use as he so pleased until the pleasure became so great that he couldn’t hold back anymore, a wave of warm cum painting your tongue. He never stopped fucking your mouth until his orgasm passed completely, high-pitched moans making you pulse rapidly. You swallowed as much as you could, not wanting to dirty your clothes and leave evidence of your lewd behavior. 
Haechan pulled out eventually, chest undulating as he recovered from his orgasm, though he never forgot to ask, “You good?”
You nodded, wiping saliva from your mouth with the back of your hand. 
“I hope you’re ready to get fucked,” Haechan said, helping you to your feet. Which made you snicker. If fucking in the woods was crazy, you were both out of your goddamn mind in love. 
You moaned when Haechan kissed you again and you grabbed his cock in your palms, stroking him hard anew all the while. The longer you waited, the less you could ignore the fire igniting between your thighs that ached to be taken care of. 
Haechan shoved you against the tree after a while and didn’t bother to slide your panties down, only slipping them to the side, courtesy of your skirt. Your palms dug into rough bark and he instead cuffed your wrists in his own hand, tightening them at your backside. He steered his cock to your entrance with the other, your arousal making it all too easy to skid right inside. 
Your moans were instantaneous. Haechan stroked deeper and deeper until every inch was utterly nested inside your sweet cunt, his cock disappearing inside. He took pleasure in stretching you open, because even after fucking you time and time again, your cunt never seemed to get any less tight. He always had to coax his way inside, no matter how wet you were. 
“Haechan,” you stammered, mouth hanging wide open with moans of his name. 
As much as he liked hearing you moan his name, Haechan clamped his palm over your mouth, smothering your sounds while still keeping your arms locked behind your back. 
Though you and your boyfriend had admittedly had sex in a number of places, some debatably strange, the middle of the haunted woods undoubtedly took the cake. The view was nice. You had to admit that it was somewhat romantic being fucked by your boyfriend against a tree while staring at an array of vibrant plants and pretty skies. And being out in the open aroused you a little more than it should have. 
Your body shuddered when he released your wrists to cup a palmful of your breasts, slipping his hand beneath your shirt and his finger kneading your nipple. “You’re so beautiful like this,” Haechan exhaled. Even now, he sometimes struggled to comprehend that he could call someone as beautiful as you were his, but he would be damned if he let anyone snatch away his girl. 
You listened contentedly to the sound of Haechan’s low groans of pleasure and sticks being crumbled beneath your toes as he pounded into you roughly, your fingernails finding purchase in the tree’s gnarled surface. All you could do was whimper, rooted in place and left to take all he gave you. 
Haechan hit a deep spot and you cried into his palm, a weakness making your head spin with dizziness. He simply had a power over you, goddamn it. Your body could never get enough, a depthless well of lust and arousal in the face of your boyfriend. 
As if he could hear whatever your muffled voice said in the crook of his palm, Haechan’s pace quickened, fucking you tirelessly with a passion that could never be sated. You wallowed in the sound of his hips slamming into yours with a sharp, wet slap. There was no denying what was happening if anyone made the unfortunate mistake of walking by.
Fortunately, your only company were harmless animals and possibly a couple of wandering ghosts. 
The harder you were fucked, the harder it was to stand on your own. Haechan took and took from your body but left a crushing kind of pleasure that rendered you weak and another indescribable feeling, smothering you with the unknown sensation. But instead of fear, it aroused a dangerous curiosity within you. 
“So good for me,” Haechan moaned, draping his lips over your already mark-stained neck. Your entire body was nearly coated in dark bruises ensuing after a long session of fucking and sucking and love-making. “You always gotta feel so damn good.”
His palm slacked on your mouth and you whimpered, “Baby, too much.”
Haechan slowed himself for a second and asked, “Do you want me to stop?”
You shook your head and ironically whimpered at his slower pace. God, no. You wanted Haechan to fuck you numb. 
He snickered and picked back up his quickened rhythm. “That’s my girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “Take it for me, baby.”
Never had your body ever felt so stimulated and alive, every muscle taut with pleasure. It was a lot, but you took it like a champ, loving the way your boyfriend’s thick girth filled you up, hard and stiff. Fire set you ablaze, heat igniting at the vortex of your thighs and shooting through you like a bundle of fireworks. You were smothered by heat, scorching all over. 
Your bodies were on autopilot, sweat beading at the surface of your skin and making your clothes adhere. You were sticky with sweat and arousal and eventually bits of Haechan’s cum, the part you were most excited for. The thought of your boyfriend emptying his balls into you alone was more than enough to make your walls clamp around his cock, wanting to literally milk him dry. You moaned in anticipation. 
“Want you to cum,” you whimpered, body thumped forward with every heavy thrust inside you. “Baby, please. I wanna make you cum.”
Haechan bit his lip when he heard you beg. Why did you have to be so damn sexy? It was the perfect way to bring him over the edge. “Gotta take care of my girl first, baby,” he whispered sweetly in your ear. 
As soon as those words escaped his mouth, you finally noticed how close you were, body under pressure and ready to snap. You could hardly even stand upright on your own, knees very liable to giving in (and more sore than you could notice over numbing pleasure). You were prepared to be broken beyond reclaim. 
“Baby, I…”
“I know,” Haechan shushed you with a sweet peck to your cheek. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m right here. Let go.”
That was all you needed to hear before you couldn’t fight release anymore and it toppled over, draping over you in totality. You came so hard that tears began to well from your eyes, your hands desperately clinging to the tree bark, bruises ready to form all over. Haechan brought his palm back over your mouth quick enough to smother a prolonged, sated scream. 
He whispered praises in your ear even your body slackened, limp against the tree but still letting him use you as needed. You were trembling with anticipation, restless as you waited for him to fill you to the brim. “Baby, please,” you begged. “Fill me up. Fill me up...,”
Haechan developed a ruthless pace now, absorbed in your desperate chants and the way your pussy pulsed around his cock, endeavoring to trigger his climax. He was tangled in the heat of you, dangerously close and gripping your hips so harshly you whined, “Fuck,” into his palm. 
Soon enough, listening to the sound of your sweet voice and muffled cries got the best of him and Haechan’s hips stilled inside, cock twitching with orgasm and promptly releasing hotly inside you. He gave a long hiss while you sighed pleasantly, satisfied at long last. 
Your boyfriend cleaned you up while you rested against the tree, feeling lightheaded. He ensured your skirt was in place and brushed off tiny specks of dirt that had clung to your knees. Haechan, as always, was restless, but you were still trying to catch your breath from the hell of a nut that he had only now given you. 
And you could feel his release still warm between your thighs, caught in your panties. 
You were as fucked out as you looked and he wallowed in the darkly arousing sight of you, evidence of what happened etched across your face no matter the length you went to hide. 
Haechan fought a sly grin and asked, “Ready?” 
You nodded. But when you went to walk, you reeled. Tomorrow was Sunday and that morning you would be kissing these woods goodbye, but you had a feeling your boyfriend would leave you too sore to work come Monday. 
Not that you were complaining. You could only wonder if that was part of his master plan. 
“Disgusting,” Winter sneered lightheartedly when she noticed you limping back to the campground. 
You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. I’m sure you and Jaehyun gave the boys a lot to raise hell about while we were gone.” 
Jaehyun, directly beside his girlfriend, pulled her into his arms and said, “Hey, it’s not my baby’s fault she’s loud.”
Winter hummed in agreement. “Right. It’s his.”
“Who’s disgusting now,” you remarked with a playful grimace. 
Haechan - for once in his entire life - was silent, too focused on helping you to a shower. He only chuckled a little and ushered you away to take good care of you.
You felt a hell of a lot more refreshed once you cleaned up and had a change of clothes, though ironically energetic. When in need of a nap, Haechan  fucking the shit out of you plus a nice bath usually did the trick (although the bathroom luxuries were limited outdoors), but somehow you were given a burst of energy. 
Though not too long ago you were spooked by what lay in hiding in these woods, there was now a rain cloud of dread and sadness hanging over you when you realized this trip would be ending all too soon. You were having way too much fun in the company of your friends and boyfriend. The last thing you wanted was for it to end.
This place was growing on you. And now that it had, it was almost time to leave. The goddamn irony. 
You stepped outside. Jaehyun and your boyfriend were firing up the grill and Yuta was talking to a squirrel (you would rather not ask), meanwhile Winter was strangely nowhere to be seen. But Ten was at the empty campfire, spectacles sitting on the bridge of his nose as he flipped pages of a rather thick novel. 
You chuckled. It was almost endearing. Some things never changed. 
Your contemplative face was on. The conversation would have to be had one way or another. That much you knew. Your options were clear, though dull. Either address the elephant in the room, or create a rift in your relationship with willful ignorance. 
So, you hauled ass right over to that campfire. 
Ten was startled by your sudden presence and given the circumstances, he was prepared to give someone an earful over the unannounced interruption, but swiftly silenced himself when he noticed it was you who’d come to his side. 
You winced when you noticed his jumpy reaction. “Sorry. Did I scare you?” 
“No,” Ten lied and put his book face down. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to talk.”
That kindled his interest. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” you replied nonchalantly. “What are you reading?”
“This book about the cycle of darkness and light. It’s in German. It’s about how the light replenishes what the darkness steals, but the darkness will always undo it again regardless.”
That genuinely piqued your curiosity. “Sounds deep.”
“Oh, yes. There are plenty of figurative details about hope and hiding your quote-unquote darkness to other people. The author likens human beings to the moon. We all have a dark side, but other people only see the lit part of us,” Ten said, and you beamed at his enthusiasm. “The part we want them to see.”
You leaned over to notice the novel was indeed in German. And impressed that he could comprehend it nonetheless. “Do you have a hidden dark side?”
“‘We are so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others, that in the end, we become disguised to ourselves.’”
“François de La Rochefoucauld,” you replied, recognizing the quote. 
Ten stared at you, wide-eyed. “You know?” 
You nodded with a smile. “He also said, ‘true love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen.’”
Ten went dangerously silent and you knew you’d struck a sore spot, but you weren’t done applying pressure. 
You continued, “You’re a really good friend, Ten. And a great guy.”
“Don’t.” 
You cocked your head. “Don’t do what?” 
“Don’t be nice! Don’t be you,” Ten whispered frustratedly, standing to his feet. Which you did suit. “Do you know you’re the only person in this world who’s never laughed at me?”
It was your turn to be quiet now. Tension had a heavy hand clamped over your mouth. 
“You’ve never mocked me. Never made fun of me. The only time you’ve made me feel less than someone else is when you and Haechan got together. Even then, none of it was your fault.”
Grabbing his hand, you crooned, “I’m sorry.” 
That only exasperated Ten even more and he swatted your hand away, though careful not to hurt you, and hurriedly scooped his things into his arms. “Just stop. Don’t let me down gently. You’ll only make it harder on me.”
Ten stormed off before you could get another word in and you merely stood there, riveted in place. You glanced around and were relieved that nobody seemed to notice, but a sour sensation broiled in your gut as you wondered if you’d only rubbed salt in all the wrong wounds. 
For fuck’s sake. Maybe it would have been a better idea to wait until you’d left the campground. At least then you wouldn’t have potentially ruined his whole trip. 
Jaehyun passed out hotdogs as they were coming off the grill and everyone gathered together for an early dinner, but Ten was still nowhere to be seen. Yuta came to their shared cabin and offered him food, but he denied it, sulking all alone. 
“I mean, shit. What did you do to him?” Yuta asked you once he returned. 
You gave him a hard glare and ignored the question. “You guys should be nicer to Ten. He’s a little sensitive right now,” you scolded, then turned to face your boyfriend who was sitting directly next to you. “You, too.”
Haechan threw his hands up. “Yes, ma’am.”
You gave a prolonged exhale. It was no secret Ten had a mean crush on you, though you had denied it for as long as possible. Now that you’d confronted the issue at hand, it blew up in your face. For that reason, there was another unsettling feeling coming alive in the pit of your stomach, making your skin crawl. 
But this time, you knew why. Ironically, you couldn’t tell if that was worse. 
Nothing else was seemingly out of place and the evening carried on as usual, but you were definitely on edge. The shorter days meant an earlier sunset and by the time the sky dimmed pitch-black, most of the others had retreated to their respective cabins, in favor of escaping the approaching threat of bloodthirsty mosquitoes. 
Except for you and your boyfriend, who approached you carrying two glasses of champagne and handing you one.
You accepted the glass and gave him a look. “And what are we celebrating?”
“Making it through the weekend. Alive,” Haechan joked, taking a seat next to you. 
“Mm. You know what champagne does to me.”
He nodded, like that was the whole point. “Yeah. I expect your hands to be all over me in five minutes tops.”
You snickered and sipped from your glass quietly. Haechan placed a cool hand on your thigh, a stark contrast from the raging heat of the campfire crackling merely inches away from you. The sensation was very welcome. 
There was no one around save for you, your boyfriend, and a large number of still trees. Haechan was usually full of conversation, but he was too preoccupied in drawing circles on your bare thighs, caught in how much he loved them. You smiled slyly. The feeling was mutual. Your boyfriend had some thick ass thighs.
Then, your thoughts were dark, and you frowned at the reminder of the terrible dread reeling like a vortex in your belly. “Ten likes me.”
“No offense, baby. But I think you were the last person to figure that out.”
You frowned. “I think I always knew, but I didn’t want to accept it. Because I value the friendship him and I have and I didn’t want that bond to be broken. I still can’t really believe he has feelings for me.”
“I don’t see what’s so surprising,” Haechan said, glancing up from your thighs to look you plain in the eye. “You’re a likable person, babe. I say the guy has taste. Too bad you’re already mine.”
Your lover more or less played compassionate, but you could tell he didn’t actually feel too bad about the situation. Or much of anything for that matter. Funnily enough, that kindled a kind of uncertainty in you. “Doesn’t it make you angry?” you asked curiously, threading your fingers through his bright head of hair.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Why would it? I already know you’re all mine,” Haechan reasoned. “I don’t need any affirmation because I know I own your mind, body, and soul. It’s like I have you under a spell.”
Maybe the champagne had you under a spell, because you swore he looked even better than normal, skin glimmering courtesy of the crackling fire. You could see an identical inferno irate in his pretty brown eyes, blood-hungry and spiraling alarmingly out of control. You knew damn well you were playing with fire, but for whatever reason, you were dangerously in love with the burn. 
Your lover’s lips attacked you and you submitted to his touch, within the firing line of danger. Your hands found his body promptly, desperate for warmth, and Haechan smirked because he had predicted as much. 
He could never scare you. The more you uncovered about him, the deeper you fell into some depthless pile of doom. 
Haechan coiled one arm around your backside while the other skirted between your thighs, grabbing a feel of your clothed arousal. You moaned, already getting wetter. “You do realize this is our third time today alone?” 
“What can I say? I’m addicted to you,” Haechan said, kneading between your thighs and watching your lips fall with a pleased exhale. 
You kept touching and sucking each other until Haechan inevitably got a little too riled up hearing your sweet moans and gently pressed you against the thick log, a blanket already draped above. Strangely, time seemed to move slower, like the whole world was frozen over and there was no one else there. Nobody to interrupt your reckless fun. 
A tinge of heat blossomed inside your chest, rapidly spreading elsewhere when your boyfriend plucked your shirt and bra and started to kiss his way down your breasts. You clasped your palms on his shoulders, soft little sighs still doing a number on him as he nibbled at your flesh, cock growing harder. 
Just thinking about all the many times Haechan fucked you into oblivion had you in a drunken stupor and you begged demurely, “Please, baby.” There was nothing you weren’t willing to do if it meant he would stop drawing out the inevitable, no matter how good his kisses were. 
Haechan swore loudly and shoved a hand down your shorts, breaking the barriers and feeling your arousal coating his fingers. Did you always have to be so impatient and wet? Your head tipped back with a moan, body arching against his touch. 
You whimpered in surprise when Haechan brought you to a stand to sweep the blanket over the grassy ground and again when he pulled you to the surface, grabbing your shorts by the band and promptly tossing them aside. Haechan made sure you were far away enough from the fire not to be a safety hazard, but close enough for light and warmth. 
Not that you need very much of the latter. Your boyfriend touching you kindled sparks in your body hot enough to make you sweat all over. 
Your boyfriend hungrily stripped you both of your underwear and then lined his hard cock at your entrance, slippery with your own slick. In your mind, an eternity seemed to pass before he winded inside, and you clung tightly to your breath before you lost it forever. 
Haechan leaned below all the while, leaving a trail of sweet kisses up your stomach. You moaned loudly, arching into his touch, somehow feeling an elated sense of pleasure. You were blatantly more aware of his cock pressed deeply into your vice-like cunt, and your legs locked around his hips, pulling him even deeper. 
There was something new. Drunk sex with your boyfriend was always fun, but it wasn’t this. It was sloppier. It was teeth accidentally clashing and giggling into each other’s mouths. 
None of that was happening. Instead, every sensation was a million times more unrestrained and for a second you wondered if you were making it all up in your head or if your boyfriend was simply that good at pleasuring you. 
The thought disappeared as quickly as it had come, because you were too distracted by Haechan’s warm breath on your neck, tickling the flesh as he whispered a bunch of sweet nothings into your ear, full aware that it would bring you over the edge. You felt like a mad woman, unsure of anything and everything except for how perfect it felt to be in your boyfriend’s arms. 
“You feel so good,” Haechan moaned into your ear, and if you hadn’t already spiraled out of control, you sure as hell had now. 
“Fuck. God, Haechan,” you whimpered, too overwhelmed. How in the hell could he feel so good? Every inch of you was sensitive, but every sensation was heightened. “I fucking love this.”
You were half-tempted to pinch yourself to determine if you were lucid dreaming, but then Haechan dug his sharp nails into your hips and you instantly knew there was no denying you were very awake. 
Haechan poorly stifled a snicker and watched the bounce of your breasts as he stroked deeper and deeper. A wavering orange hue casted over your body and highlighted the irrefutable evidence of pleasure on your pretty face, courtesy of the campfire. 
Lord have mercy, you were beautiful. Nothing made him prouder than being able to call you his girl. No woman before you had ever left him so love-struck, so downright in love. You made him crazy in a way that he would never fathom, but what he did know was that he was in over his head and not even death could part you. 
A thought crossed your mind and incited a lustful greed within you, and you grabbed Haechan’s bicep, whimpering, “Haechan, stop.” 
That pulled him out of his little pleasure-induced stupor and Haechan ground to a halt, quickly scanning your face for any sign of discomfort he might’ve missed in his trance. Needless to say, he came short of answers.
“I wanna be on top,” you explained, making him pull out and lay beneath you now. “Just sit back and relax.”
Haechan submitted to you because for fuck’s sake, he was out of his mind in love with you, and whatever you wanted he would give you. You could cry for the moon and he would steal it for you. No questions asked. 
You switched positions to straddle his body, reaching for his cock and steering him to your entrance. Haechan moaned when he was fitted back inside, and your hands slipped to his chest as you eyed him, having the perfect view of his face tensing with pleasure of all kinds. 
Had you not been interrupted by a moan, you would have giggled. Your fingers pranced around his sensitive nipples and Haechan called out your name, palms seeking anchorage at your ass. You were both obviously driving each other insane, in a war to see who could take the other off their hinges. 
Haechan watched you bounce on his cock and it was the most beautiful sight in the world to him. Your mouth parted with blissful sighs and soft moans, your bodies an amalgam of sticky coats of sweat and hotness. 
“I love you,” Haechan blurted through ragged breath, but goddamn was it true. 
“I love you, too,” you moaned in the midst of fucking yourself on a very hard dick.  And trying not to lose what was left of you. “Shit. Holy fuck.” 
Haechan involuntarily thrusted up to meet your motions, matching your quick tempo. You could feel and hear the blood pumping rhythmically in your head, your pulse thudding. Each of your breaths were quick, like you could hardly breathe through the thick tension of pent-up love and desire between you. 
You simply couldn’t stop, couldn’t get enough of the feeling. You couldn’t fathom why it was so goddamn good. Even Haechan had to notice you were riding him harder than usual, chasing satisfaction with a craving that could never be satiated. You felt like an animal, wondering what it was that made him feel even better than you thought possible. 
Every insignificant detail was zeroed in on. Did he always have those little scratches on him? And had you been the reason? Your eyes fell up his neck and down his torso and you bit your lip smugly, noticing all the marks you’d left behind.  
“Baby, I’m so close,” you whimpered, rocking harder. 
“Come on, baby. You’re so beautiful,” Haechan groaned, close and throttled by the tension. You were closing in on him, wrapping around him so tightly and driving him to climax. 
The muscles in your thighs tightened and slackened, and you bounced to the rhythm of the pulsing between your legs. Haechan reached for your hand and laced his fingers through yours, wanting to be thoroughly connected with you through every moment of your orgasm. 
He uncontrollably rambled some more praises in your ears about how good you felt and how beautiful you were, and you couldn’t stop yourself from coming, teeth clamping into your bottom lip to stifle a loud cry and way too immersed in pleasure to notice the pain. Your throbbing cunt and smothered cries prompted Haechan and he released inside, still fucking you back until he rested with a long exhale. 
Your body went limp, crashing at his side. Looking at the sky, you could see stars, but when you closed them, they were still there. 
Haechan immediately started to kiss you and you kissed back, tasting ecstasy on his lips. Your boyfriend cradled your body, whispering, “You did so good. I’m so proud of you.”
You remembered giving a soft little sigh of pleasure and Haechan taking the liberty of redressing you.
Everything after that was a blur. 
When you woke up, the sky was still perpetually dark, but you were in bed. You turned to your side and came to the eerie conclusion that you were very alone. Haechan was nowhere to be found. 
Maybe he’s just using the restroom, you reasoned. Yeah, okay. That happened. For your comfort, you decided to wait up until he returned. 
Half an hour later, Haechan was still a no-show. That was when you began to suspect there was something far more sinister at hand than a visit to the bathroom. You crawled from under the sheets and slipped on your shoes, determined to investigate the matter yourself. 
There was a pounding in your chest. Where could Haechan have disappeared to for thirty minutes in the middle of the night?
Except for anywhere. He could be anywhere in these goddamn woods and you would never find even a trace of him. A cool dread plagued your body and you wrapped your arms around yourself, praying your boyfriend was somewhere safe. You had a strange gut feeling that something heinous had happened and it was all around you, suffocating. 
You crept outdoors and oddly enough, noticed Yuta seated at the campfire. You remembered making love to Haechan there, because the memory was still fresh. For some reason, it felt like moments yet days ago altogether. 
Why was it still lit at this hour? More significantly, what was Yuta doing there so late? 
“Yuta?” you called out. 
No reply. He was stiff as a boulder. You approached him stealthily, wanting to believe he was only playing an evil trick on you. 
When you could finally get a front view of him, you cried out in a blend of surprise and terror. 
Nothing could have prepared you for the gruesome sight of Yuta’s lifeless body. You shrieked and screamed until your voice could barely muster a murmur. For a good while, you only stood there, muscles stiff with shock. Tears silently began to drip as they gathered at your eyelashes. 
You forced your eyes away from Yuta. His face had been burned so badly that you could hardly recognize him. The skin was disfigured with marks, wrinkly and apparently rotten. You noticed the purple lines around his wrists and his slashed throat and hoped he hadn’t been burned alive. 
You refused to look at him, refused to touch him. You cowered away, repulsed by the consuming stench of blood clogging your senses. Feeling nauseous, you turned over and knocked over two near-full wine glasses in your wake, bending your knees. It made you want to throw up. 
This could not be happening. You rubbed your eyes, like there was a chance sleep and your tears were making you delirious. A bitter taste parched your tongue as you prayed this was only a ghastly dream. You would not accept this as reality. You didn’t want to believe Yuta was - completely and irrevocably  - gone.
But regardless of how hard you tried, your body scorned you, refusing to wake up.
This was a living nightmare. 
For some strange reason, there was a canoe approaching the shoreline and you made a beeline for the lake, too blinded by your need for answers to pause and ask yourself why there was somebody paddling at this hour.
“Haechan?” you called out shakily. 
Nothing. Where could he have gone? The night was far too dark for you to piece together who was on the canoe. Which was unnerving.
Dread hit you tenfold when it dawned on you that Haechan could have been anywhere, slain and blood-splattered like how you discovered Yuta. 
Tears made your eyes burn. There was no way in hell your boyfriend was dead. But none of that explained what happened to Yuta. And were the rest of your friends okay?
Why did nobody hear you scream? 
The growing questions only made you tremble with mystification. You couldn’t for the life of you comprehend why anybody would want to do something so unspeakable to Yuta. He had been nothing but an incredible friend to you for years and a wonder to everyone he met. 
Anger briefly numbered you to your fear. Yuta didn’t deserve to die. Not in such a cold-hearted, brutal manner. Nobody did. The look on his face when you found his body was permanently etched into your memory. He had been burned beyond recognition. The damage was irreversible. Even if he somehow survived the burns, there was no way to undo the distortion. 
Your heart had never been so heavy. There was a possibility the wound to his neck killed him, but there was also a fair chance it only damaged him enough to render him unheard. 
What if Yuta tried to scream, but nobody heard him, either? 
You should have known coming to this haunted city was a fatal mistake. The rumors of people slaughtered in Chimera should have been more than enough to dissuade you, but you each were too goddamn stubborn.
Look what that had gotten you. A dead friend, a missing boyfriend, and an uncertain status on the rest of your number. 
The uncertainty about the rest of your friends only made you even sadder. Had they somehow slept through Yuta’s death, too? Or were they victims to a similar fate? 
No. That couldn’t be the case. Because if it was, then why had you been left untouched?
Surely, there were no goddamn miracles in this godforsaken place. 
You wracked your brain trying to remember what happened. For some reason, everything was fuzzy and disoriented. You recalled the whole day up to a point. Haechan and you fooled around in bed until you finally roused. Then, you had breakfast. The boys went canoeing. You went to annoy Winter with your paranoia.
The boys came back and you went on a hike with Haechan only to fool around some more. Then, you returned, took a shower, the boys fired up the grill and you had a conversation with Ten. He froze you out and stormed into his cabin for the night.
Everyone ate dinner without him, they eventually left, and you spent the night fooling around with Haechan under the moonlight. 
Then, everything else went black. You didn’t remember getting into bed with Haechan, but you assumed he carried you there. Your eyes got too heavy after orgasm and you seemingly passed out. 
That was strange. And maybe too much of a coincidence. But Haechan would never do anything to hurt you. Would he? 
Don’t be silly, you chided. Haechan loves you and he’s fucking missing right now. Instead of questioning him, you should be trying to find him before it’s too late. 
You didn’t even let yourself wonder if it already was too late. Haechan was not dead. Anyone could leave you, but not him. Not the boy who promised you forever and then some. 
Haechan was the common denominator, but Ten was the missing piece. You hadn’t seen him since you tried to turn him down gently and there was no telling if he ever came out the cabin since. He may have been in his feelings, but no anger could prompt him to do this. You were certain. 
You were certain about all of them. But if not them, then who did that leave? A ghost? 
Your heart raced quicker than ever before as you bolted to the lake, and you halted dead in your tracks when your feet landed right at its murky edge. The sky was still too dark for you to make out the body on the canoe. You squinted, but you couldn’t even see a body at all. 
Tall, thick trees covered the border of the lake. Moonlight filtered through some of the branches, though unfortunately, it didn’t come close to illuminating the canoe. You glanced at the water and saw a pair of eyes staring back at you. 
And they weren’t your own. 
For a minute, you couldn’t move. You went stiffly rigid, attempting to convince your brain that this was only a figment of your delirious imagination. But the wide pair of eyes didn’t move. They didn’t even blink. 
Fear flooded back into your body, bleeding thickly out of you, and you lurched back with an eldritch scream. Everything happened so damn quickly. Your back hit the trunk of a tree and the branches rattled. A body plummeted violently into the cool water, but you didn’t register the splash, veins pumping icy dread instead of warm blood. 
You didn’t investigate, slumping against the tree and pulling your knees to your bosom. You cried hot tears, because you recognized those eyes. They were the same ones you always caught staring at you. They were the same ones that looked at you with hurt and heartbreak the last time you’d seen them. 
Now, they looked at you with lifelessness. And they unmistakably belonged to Ten. 
“I’m sorry,” you cried, as if he could hear you. “I should have left it alone. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to make things worse.” 
There was no word to describe the depth and darkness of the feeling that plagued you now. You shuddered, an imagined nipping wind numbing you beyond the surface and to the very fucking core. It was brutal and ruthless. 
Every inch of your body was bitter with pain. You were so dizzy with shock and consternation that you couldn’t even stand. Your head ached from crying so damn much. 
You felt like you had done this to Ten. He was even harder to move on from. Your last memories were anything but happy and you could only picture the ache and longing absorbing his features, the hurt crushing the impact of his voice. 
Nothing made sense to you. Ten fell for your gentleness, but resented you for letting him down gently. You wanted to understand him. You wanted to make things better, but you failed and now you would have to live with that mistake forever. Because it was too late to undo. 
“I thought I was doing the right thing,” you croaked quietly, voice absent. “Now, I’ll never be able to. Please forgive me.”
Every breath you took was pained. You could barely speak without your voice cracking. There was no welcoming feeling. Especially not the self-loathing that swallowed you whole and throttled you. Everything you felt was cold and lingering, dark and unfurling. 
You must have spent an eternity sitting there sobbing your heart out, mourning your dead friend, because you only stood to your feet when you heard the sound of something meeting the shoreline. 
 The canoe. You had forgotten all about the damn thing and frowned when you saw nobody. You walked over and had your blood already not been icy, it would have run cold. 
Jaehyun laid sprawled across the canoe, completely soaked, like he had toppled over into the lake. 
“Jay,” you gasped, shocked. This whole time you had been calling out for a dead body. He was ghostly pale, hair stuck to his skin. 
You made the decision to reach over, careful not to rock the canoe too much in case you tripped over, and felt for a pulse. Even a weak one. Anything that proved he wasn’t gone. 
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Jaehyun was ruthlessly still. His body was like ice and in your head, a temperature of a negative degree. You accidentally left a bloody print on his arm, recouping your hand when you begrudgingly accepted he was no longer breathing and there was no chance of him ever doing so again, and crept back over to the shore. 
Just when you thought you had no more tears left to cry, they fell again, mocking you. You could dimly see your reflection, your tear-stained face a complete mess. 
That was the third dead body. With each one, you loss more and more faith that any of your friends were okay. 
But there was still Haechan and Winter. 
That made you confused. Jaehyun would never leave Winter by herself. Especially not in the middle of the night in dark, haunted woods. How in the hell did he get on a canoe by himself? 
The whole reason Jaehyun even came on this trip was to protect her in case this place turned out to actually be haunted. Was Winter okay? Jaehyun would never let anyone harm her, if there was anything he could do. They would have to get through him before they got to her. 
Maybe they did get through him. 
Rage warmed you and gave you life again. Whoever did this would pay. You would find them and seek sweet revenge. But first, you needed to confirm whether or not your boyfriend and your best friend were alive. 
Now that you thought about it, Haechan would never leave you alone, either. It simply wasn’t in his nature and didn’t make sense. Not even a little bit. 
When presented with a perceived danger, Haechan’s first instinct was to grab you and keep you sheltered in his arms. When you were frightened for your life, Haechan never failed to soothe you, promising you he would go through hell and back to keep you safe. 
That wouldn’t change all of the sudden. He was no coward. Now, your heart hurt, wondering if he had given himself up to protect you too. 
You turned around and made a beeline for Winter and Jaehyun’s cabin. You needed to find her. You needed to know she was okay. Together, you could get the hell out of here, but not before you found your boyfriend also. 
The campground was the same as you’d left, still as lifeless as before with Yuta’s corpse by the campfire, and you weren’t too sure how that made you feel. You darted to the right, immediately charging straight towards your best friend’s cabin. 
There were no lights on. The only source of light was the campfire burning in the center. It gave you hope that Winter may have been sleeping peacefully, oblivious to all that happened. 
But unlike you, Winter was a light sleeper. Wouldn’t she have noticed Jaehyun crawling out of bed or something? 
You frowned. You didn’t know what happened. Jaehyun could have sensed danger outside and went to investigate. He could have kissed her forehead and urged her to go to sleep. 
You shook your head and slowly opened the door, ignorant of the blood print you’d left on the knob, pulse speeding at the eerie sound of it pushing open. The darkness made you wary. You couldn’t even be sure if she was on the bed. 
For assistance, you turned on the light, and breathed a little in relief when you noticed a figure slumped under the sheets. But why was her head below the comforter? Winter never slept like that. Something about it being too hot and too hard to breathe. 
The relief you felt was short-lived. Dread returned and you inhaled and exhaled deeply. A part of you didn’t want to know if your best friend was dead or not. But she was too still. Like she wasn’t even breathing under the covers. 
You plucked the cover off her face and trembled. There was fresh blood on her chin, rolling down her lips. And a fork in her left hand. And you had a sneaking suspicion that you knew why. 
Gently, you opened her mouth, and when you saw that a piece of her tongue was no longer there you had a painful moment of realization. 
Your heart broke. It didn’t split down the middle, but broke into millions of pieces. Winter was dead. But you knew damn well Haechan was still out there somewhere, good and well. 
You grabbed Winter’s lifeless body in your arms and cried into her shoulder, oddly comforted by the fact her body was still warm. Everything made sense now. This was all your fault. 
Nothing was a coincidence. Winter frightened you and made you bite your tongue. Then, you found her with a fork in her hand, a piece of her tongue removed. Yuta gave you his marshmallow when you burned yours. Then, you found him with his face burned without a lick of mercy. 
Ten always stared at you. He was always watching. He looked at you with a kind of adoration in his eyes. You found him staring into his own reflection, body slumped on a tree. 
And Jaehyun offered to take you on a canoe ride with the guys. You found him sprawled across that very same canoe. 
“I did this to you,” you sobbed, grabbing her hand. You bristled when you noticed blood on her fingernails, knowing it wasn’t her. Winter fought to protect her damn self. 
And you knew who attacked her. 
You were so overwhelmed. You had never felt this many emotions at once before. Especially not this intensely. You were wounded and betrayed. Angry and regretful. Frightened and loathing. 
For a moment, you only cried in Winter’s warmth, holding her hand and blaming yourself for everything. You begged her to wake up. You begged her to smile and tap your arm, screaming, “Just kidding!” 
This had to be a prank. This had to be some cruel joke that you were the butt of, a trick at your expense. You wanted everyone to open the door one by one and laugh at you for falling for such a stupid scheme, but you knew in your heart it wasn’t true. 
You saw the very real marks on Yuta’s face. You saw the lifelessness in Ten’s eyes. You felt Jaehyun’s non-existent pulse. Even now, you could feel the warmth slowly leaving Winter’s body. 
Eventually you pulled away, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. You saw the blood on the sheets and frowned. That hadn’t been there before. Only then did you notice the blood dampening your clothes. 
How long had that been there? Was it from one of the bodies? 
No, because I only touched Jaehyun. And he clearly drowned, you thought. But pushed the thought of Jaehyun’s drenched body out of your head as quickly as it came. 
There were more pressing matters at hand. You needed to get the hell out of here. And you needed to do so alive. Someone had to be the bearer of bad news. Someone had to tell your friends’ parents that their worst nightmare had come true. 
You found the courage to leave your best friend there and crept outside the cabin. Your phone was in Ten’s and Yuta’s. Goddamn it. 
The sight of Haechan emerging from the woods made you grind to a halt. You were scared for your goddamn life. You had no idea what your chances of survival were, but you got it now. Why you had been spared from your friend’s fate. 
The Haechan you loved was not the man staring at you from afar. The Haechan you’d come to know was not the man approaching you. He was somebody else. Somebody you were not familiar with and did not know how to handle. 
Adrenaline thumped in your head. You had a choice. You could flee or you could fight. 
For now, you decided to play dumb. 
“Baby,” you called out, colliding into his cold arms. “Everybody’s dead! Are you okay? What happened to you?”
Haechan stared at you unrecognizably. You knew you were looking danger dead in the eye. There was no warmth in him, no life. He had blood stains on his clothes and scratches on his face. 
From Winter, you bristled inwardly. You banished the thought, knowing your cover would be blown the longer you thought about how he had preyed down your friends. 
Haechan coiled an arm around you and said simply, “It’s not my blood.” 
“Not your blood?” you repeated slowly, pulling yourself away. “Then, whose blood is it?” 
Your boyfriend only smiled. “I think you know the answer to that, sweetheart,” he said sweetly, but you knew only venom was inside him. 
You wanted to scream. There was no deceiving him. You could tell he already knew. Haechan read you like an open book and you knew he would never not have you all figured out. 
Giving up deception, you cried, “Why?” 
“Because you’re mine,” he explained with a gentleness to his tone, approaching you despite picking up on how adamant you were on keeping him at arm’s length. “Don’t you see? Everybody wants to keep us apart. We can be alone now.” 
“Haechan, nobody was keeping us apart,” you said, unable to justify his actions. 
“Yes, they were,” Haechan argued. “Like the old geezer at your job. He worked you too much and paid you too little. I was doing you a favor.” 
You paused as you processed his words. He was talking about your boss. The same boss that mysteriously died a couple of weeks back. You put the pieces together. 
You gasped, “You killed him?”
Haechan scoffed. “Don’t give me that look. I know you hated the guy. I remember the smile on your face when you told me your boss was dead.” 
“Yuta, Ten, Winter, and Jaehyun weren’t keeping us away from each other,” you hissed, using rage as your fuel and hatred as your anchor. “They did nothing to us.” 
“They were nuisances. You spent too much time with them. You’re better off without them anyway, baby. Winter hurt you and laughed in your face. I mean, what kind of best friend does that? Of course, I had to eliminate the bigger threat before I got to her.” 
The bigger threat was Jaehyun. He would go to the ends of the earth for Winter and you could tell from the moment he was introduced to you. You gave him the golden stamp of approval for a reason. 
Jaehyun would protect Winter until he had nothing left to give. You had no idea how Haechan took him down, but at this point, you didn’t want to know. It made you well with pain. You hoped they met again in the afterlife and in the next one with a much kinder fate.  
Haechan continued, “Yuta was too comfortable. I didn’t like how he talked to you. He always got too close, leaning into you and shit. I had enough. And Ten definitely wanted to take you away from me. I know you saw how he looked at you.” 
The pressure in your heart was building. You couldn’t breathe. You needed a pulse. The whole world was upside down. “You said… you said it didn’t make you angry. You told me that you didn’t care about those kinds of things. I thought you were different.” 
“Don’t you dare compare me to them,” Haechan chided, stepping closer. You stumbled and he caught you in his heavy arms, not letting up even when you tried to swat him away. “I love you better than your exes ever did. They didn’t care for you, baby. They could never love you like I do. Nobody can.”
Struggling in his arms, you screamed in his face, “My exes didn’t kill all my fucking friends!” 
Haechan started to laugh. You gaped at him and his audacity. There was no kind of levity in this situation and yet he was humored. You knew now that your boyfriend was a goddamn psychopath. 
You managed to slip away from him by grace of his distractedness and barked, “What the hell is so funny?” 
Haechan explained through bursts of laughter, “Do you think I could have killed four people by myself? We did this together, baby. Just look at yourself.” 
You reluctantly did as told. That was when the blood on your clothes finally made sense and you started to feel dirtier than ever. Was your friends’ blood on your hands? That would explain the blood on Winter’s sheets. 
Unable to endure the pain, you dropped to your knees, losing the strength to stand. The blood was everywhere. It stained your palms. Now, conscious of its presence, you were hyper aware that you were covered in your friends blood and the feeling was akin to being dipped in acid. 
How could you have only now noticed? You were too frenzied searching for your friends, searching for a spark of life in this desolate city. 
You clung to denial, chanting through sobs, “No. No, no, no.”
“Shh,” Haechan sang, pulling you into his embrace gently. He had stopped laughing, but this was a man incapable of empathy. No matter how convincing he was. “We’re finally alone, sweetie. No one to steal you from me.”
You hated yourself for not loathing the way his body felt around yours. There was a big part of you that wanted to go back to a couple of hours ago, when you thought it was only him and you in this world, and you had no idea the traumatic experience you’d have only hours later. 
That made the world stop. You found peace for a split second before hell peeled the corners of your vision again. Your head rose up, and you looked Haechan in his empty, dark eyes. 
Had you imagined the spark there? No. You had to look deeper. There was a fire there, a web of temptation, desire, and viciousness. That was what you saw in him. It was passion, but you had mistaken it for a different kind. 
“Haechan?” you called out. 
Your boyfriend said pleasantly, “Yes, my dear?” 
“Did you put something in my champagne?”
“Yes.” 
At least he was honest. For once. 
“You spiked my drink,” you began, voice cracking. “Because you knew I would never agree to your sick ways in my right mind.” 
To your dismay, Haechan didn’t deny the accusation, only giving you a sickening smile and stroking your hair gently. Like your whole world wasn’t upside down now. He,  like this was some kind of joke, merely said, “Ahchoo.”
You bristled with a vicious wrath. Haechan was out of his goddamn mind. He didn’t give a single fuck about what he had done and frankly, you’d had enough of trying to converse. You needed to get out of here immediately and seek help. There was no way you would play along with his twisted delusion. 
A chimera. 
Your heart stopped when you once again came to the brutal realization that your phone was trapped in Yuta and Ten’s cabin. You knew Haechan would never let you get away with a phone call. If you could even make one. In the middle of nowhere, there was no such thing as Wi-Fi or service. 
Plus you were surrounded by acres of trees and water. Where the hell would you go? The main road would be too damn obvious even if you somehow managed to get there. And without a car, you were positively out of luck. 
Haechan’s tone was saccharine, but there was only poison in his voice as he leaned into your ear and warned, “Whatever you’re thinking; don’t you fucking dare.”
You glared Haechan dead in the eyes, adrenaline coming over you, and you gave him a smack across the face. 
Then, you leapt up and bolted into the woods. Haechan only laughed when you slapped him, but you didn’t turn around, and you damn sure didn’t stop. Fucking psycho, you sneered. 
You vanished into the thick trees, now grateful for the darkness, though time was running scarce. Daylight would be approaching soon. Shock made you lose track of time. There was no telling how long you’d spent losing what remained of your sanity.
You were a livewire, blood pumping in your ears. The sound of twigs snapping behind you made you hyper aware of Haechan’s manhunt and you knew he wasn’t far behind, but you never gave up. Your legs ached from the lack of oxygen, but your white flag was still lowered. You would never give him the satisfaction of surrender until you knew you’d done all possible to save yourself. 
Your lover called out from somewhere behind you, “You can run, baby - I love a chase - but you can’t hide.” 
The rage blindsided you. He was the epitome of a nightmare dressed like a daydream. How could you not have noticed? This was the man you spent every spare second of your day with. How could you not have seen him for the creature he truly was beneath the surface? 
Haechan liked the hunt. There was still a chipperness to his tone even as he followed the noise of your feet scurrying through those dark, wicked woods. He was evil. He was a monster. But you knew now that the villains of this godforsaken town were not ghosts or spirits - they were the very people you trusted with your life. 
Tears blurred your vision and shock made the world swivel. You refused to be another rumor. You refused to be reduced to another campfire story. You would fight for your life up until your very last exhale.
“Where do you plan on going, darling?” Haechan asked, tone welling with concern. “There’s nothing or no one out here for miles. You’ll die out here before you find someone to save you.”
You slammed into a tree and swore louder than you would’ve liked, knowing Haechan was hot on your trail because you could hear him chiding you for being so clumsy. 
“But you didn’t die out there,” said your therapist. 
You bobbed your head. “I got back up and I ran,” you told her, shuddering as you were forced to place yourself back in what was easily the worst day of your goddamn life. “He was so close. I ran into the daylight. I was in those woods for days. I had nothing. No food, no water.” 
“You had resolve,” the therapist corrected. “Because of that, you’re here to tell the story.”
You nodded a little, because you only barely survived. You genuinely thought you would die that night. If not by Haechan himself, then eventually hunger or dehydration.
“Why does this always happen to me?” you cried. “Every time I fall for someone, they treat me like a possession. But I never thought it would go this far. How come I didn’t realize until it was too late? I even…their blood is on my hands.” 
The therapist stopped you right there. “He took advantage of your trust and adulterated your champagne without your knowledge to make you easier to manipulate. You said it yourself. He knew you would never agree in your right mind.”
None of her consolation helped. Half a year had passed since the most traumatic event of your life. The wound still felt fresh. You could still hear your friends’ voices and see their faces following you everywhere. 
And knowing that their blood was on your hands made things even worse. You could hardly live with yourself. None of this would have happened if you would have never met Haechan, if you would have never given him the time of day. They would still be here, living their lives. 
It wasn’t fair that only you and that monster survived that day. You despised yourself for giving him access, but you loathed him for what he took from you. 
For what he took from them.  
She asked, “Have the nightmares stopped?” 
The nightmares started a little after that weekend and hadn’t ceased since. They would return to you every single night as you slept, more or less the same as before. You would be running for dear life as Haechan hunted you down. The setting was never the same. Some nights, he would chase you through a labyrinth of trees. Others, through a never-ending hallway. No matter the setting, he would hunt you until he finally caught you and leapt over you.
But only once he uttered the same four words in your ear would you wake, “You’re all mine now.”
They were simple, but they never failed to creep the living hell out of you. 
You shuddered. “No. But they’ve become less frequent.”
“And why do you think that is?” 
You shrugged. “I don’t know. It happened after I started spending time with this guy.”
That piqued her interest. “New boyfriend?”
“Not really,” you replied, the mere thought making you tremble. “I’m talking to this guy - Mark. He’s really sweet and I do like him, but I told him I’m not ready for a relationship. Frankly, I’m not sure if I ever will be again. But we still spend time, because I like his company.”
“That is a completely normal response after being exposed to a traumatic event. It may cause you to be emotionally distant, self-protective, and wary of others intentions. It is a difficult part of the process of healing and learning how to navigate through life as you did before.”
Though you already knew the answer, you asked, “Will my life ever be the same?” 
“Not likely,” the therapist told you honestly. “This is a new beginning for you. You’ll be learning to shed your old skin and adapt.”
You frowned. 
The therapist concluded the session not much later and you went home. Therapy was new for you. Ironically enough, it was never your idea. Instead of pressuring you into explaining what the hell happened to you, Mark suggested you tried therapy. 
To think of the boy sitting at home waiting for you was bittersweet. You sincerely enjoyed spending time with Mark, but you simply couldn’t bring yourself to be vulnerable with him. Like the therapist said, you were being self-protective and wary of his intentions. No matter how hard you tried, you knew you would never be able to trust the same way again.
It made you feel as if you were keeping Mark’s heart chained away. Mark was gentle and the one to suggest you take things slowly, but a godawful feeling plagued you whenever reminded he was waiting for the girl he always wanted. And there was a chance you could never be that girl. 
You wondered what he saw in you. What he saw in a girl so broken that she couldn’t bring herself to love anyone. Did he want to take advantage of your vulnerability? Was he the same kind of evil as the ones before him? 
Love was a wager, but you had no more of yourself to give. 
As you stepped inside your car, you monitored everything around you and likely quadruple-checked the backseat. Ever since that fateful day, you were hyper aware of your surroundings. You may have escaped Haechan, but that didn’t mean he would never come back to stake his claim to you.
You drove, obsessively checking your rear-view mirror. Nobody was following you, but you could never be too safe. You were more wary than usual today. There was something in the air. 
Or maybe you were just extremely paranoid. That was more plausible. 
You hated driving through town. There was a song on the radio and it reminded you of Winter, because she would burst out singing whenever it came on. Jaehyun would be sure to duet with her. You changed the station. 
Then, you passed by a bookstore. That was where you met Ten. You remembered the very second your hands touched the same novel, fingers brushing against each other’s, and the glare you both exchanged then said loud and clear that neither of you would be backing down. But when he learned you had a copy of a book he’d been tirelessly hunting for, he let you have it and you promised to swap later. 
Unbeknownst to you, Ten freaked the hell out that night when it hit him that he had unintentionally scored a very pretty girl’s number. 
It was over for you when you saw the lake sitting at the side of the road. Yuta would meet you there for an afternoon jog whenever you had the spare time. Your friends would argue it was too romantic, but Yuta never gave a fuck what other people think. You were close, but he knew where you stood and Yuta would rather die than bone you. 
Tears threatened. Why couldn’t you get them out of your head? The guilt was eating you alive. You wanted your life back. But you tainted the chance of normalcy the second you caught a monster’s goddamn eye.  
As soon as you got home, you noticed another car parked in the driveway. Mark’s car. He asked if he could come over earlier to see you after your therapy session. You told him, “You know where the spare key is.” 
It was definitely frightening, but you wanted to trust Mark. He displayed no suspicious signs, no red flags. Then again, neither did Haechan. And everyone knew how that story went. 
No happy ever after. 
There was an overwhelmingly strong aroma of sauces and spices hitting you square in the nose the moment you stepped inside your house and there was a trail of roses predictably leading from the front door to the dining room. You cocked a brow. Since when did Mark learn how to cook? This was the same boy that could barely make instant noodles without burning you both alive. 
“Mark?” you called out. 
No reply. Which was odd. Mark couldn’t wait to see you. 
You hung your coat and followed the trail of rose petals as that was obviously what you were intended to do. The sound of old school romance music began to play even louder the closer you inched and you shuddered at how much it reminded you of Haechan. 
When he was bored, he would turn on the speaker and sing his heart out to you, making you laugh at how he danced and gave you a five-star performance. 
The memories used to make you smile fondly. Now, you were a well of unadulterated fear. 
Even this specific song tore you down. Haechan loved Michael Jackson more than anyone you ever knew. As far as you were concerned, Mark was more of an old school rap guy. 
You finally approached the dining room and your heart ricocheted at what you saw. There was Mark, bound to a chair with a gag in his mouth. And Haechan stood there with a twisted smile on his face as he saw you, holding a gun to Mark’s head. 
“Mark,” you gasped, knees buckling. 
You could hear Mark whimper faintly, though his voice was muffled. He looked at you with total fear in his eyes and you were more than apologetic, the self-loathing returning as you knew the innocent life of yet another person would ultimately be destroyed because of you. 
Haechan playfully whined, “What about me? I’m here, too.” 
“You fucking monster!” you screamed. 
Your now ex-boyfriend switched on a dime and pointed his gun at you, sneering, “Sit down.”
With a fatal weapon pointed to you, you quickly complied, finding a seat at the table. You noticed there were two plates there, each at the head of the table. Mark was forced to sit at the side. 
Because he had no part in this game. He was only another nuisance, as Haechan had put it in his own terms. Another obstacle to be eliminated. Tears stung your eyes.
Your ex was delighted by your submission and took his seat at the other end of the table, facing you, but he kept his gun tucked close. You couldn’t ignore the plates in front of you both. Only God knew how long he had been waiting for you. You knew he wanted you to play into the fantasy you’d obstructed six months ago, however, your ex-boyfriend was anything but deterred. 
“I’m glad you finally made it. Mark and I were waiting for you to join us,” Haechan said, as if this was some friendly gathering and not a hostage situation. “Although, he was an unexpected guest. But it’s no biggie.” 
You sat there and pleaded, “Haechan, please don’t hurt him. This has nothing to do with him. You want me? Just take me. Leave him alone.” 
Haechan’s tone was lighthearted despite the betrayed nature of his words, “Wow. You like him that much? I thought I meant something to you.”
“That was before you slaughtered our friends like a beast,” you hissed, seething. 
Haechan corrected, “More like a pack of wolves. Everything we do is a group effort, baby. We’re a team. We’re in this together. There is no you without me and no me without you.”
You met Mark’s eyes and instantly knew what he was thinking. This guy is a total psychopath. 
He could tell this was what you had been hiding and you were aware. You had never discussed your trauma with him at length and Mark never made you feel any pressure to. Now, he understood what had you so scarred. 
You called with disdain, “Donghyuck.” 
Haechan ignored you calling him by his government name and changed his tone, feigning woundedness, “I can’t believe you tried to replace me, baby. You even told him where the spare key is. Did you actually think I wouldn’t come back to take what’s mine?” 
“I’m not yours, Donghyuck,” you told him, words dripping with vitriol. “And I never will be again. You had your chance and you blew it.”
“How could you say that?” Haechan asked, eyes wide and dark with an emotion you had no intention of understanding. “After all I’ve done for you. All I’ve done for us so that we could be alone together. I love you so much.”
For a second, you were at a loss for words, then explained, “This isn’t love. This is obsession. You need help.”
Haechan furiously snapped, “I need you. And I will stop at nothing to have you.”
Your ex-boyfriend stood to his feet and you entirely expected hell to break loose, but you were thrown for a loop when Mark tackled him to the ground, somehow unraveling his ropes while Haechan was distracted by you. 
Mark screamed at you, “Run!” 
You hesitated. You didn’t want to leave Mark there alone to die. The past six months had been spent trying to recover from the blood on your hands and you couldn’t go through that torture. There was a chance you would lose another part of your sanity that you barely had as is. But Mark gave you a look and you bolted out of there. 
As soon as you slipped out the front door, you heard a gunshot echoing and trembled, but you never stopped running. Your phone was in your car. You glanced around, expecting at least some of your neighbors to be concerned by the noise, though no one came. 
Your brows furrowed. There were cars parked in most of the driveways and this was a notably safe neighborhood. How could nobody care? 
The moment you got to your car you collapsed in relief when you saw your phone and immediately tried to dial the police, but strangely, your phone had no connection. You threw your head back frustratedly and nearly screamed at the top of your lungs. 
You didn’t even want to ask what the hell was going on. Haechan had returned to resume unfinished business, and this time, he would not leave empty-handed.
Your only other option was to go find help and you felt a twinge of worry sitting in your stomach when you realized that entailed leaving Mark by himself. You had no idea what was happening  - or had happened - in that house.
Without any other options, you searched for your keys and froze when you remembered that you’d left them in the pocket of your coat. Which you had hung up inside. 
You heard the front door creaking open and exhaled in relief when you realized it was only Mark, escaping unscathed. For now. 
Mark was heaving for breath and incredulous when he noticed you only standing there. “Why haven’t you left?”
“I left my keys inside,” you explained frantically, running into his arms. “I tried to call the police, but it didn’t work. And nobody came outside after the gunshot. I think he did something.” 
Mark made a face because despite both your cars parked in the driveway, he didn’t have his keys, either. “We have to go right now. None of us were shot. He’s going to come looking for you any second now,” he said, grabbing your hand and yanking you down the street. 
You could hardly match his long strides, but adrenaline gave you a surge of strength. Between your feet and your pulse, you couldn’t decide what was quicker. Your heart was thumping so loudly you swore Mark could hear. 
The curiosity consumed you and you asked through ragged breath, “How’d you get out of the ropes?”
“Five years of summer camp in a row,” Mark explained. “I never thought learning how to untie knots would benefit me, but look at God.”
Noticing how tightly he was holding your hand only made you weaker. You hoped and prayed you would come out of this unscathed. Not only you, but Mark too. You couldn’t lose another person at the hands of your psychopathic ex-boyfriend. The guilt and self-hatred would consume you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t mean to drag you into this,” you cried. 
“We’ll talk about this when we’re safe,” Mark told you, clearing another corner.
You heard Haechan’s smooth voice calling after you, but his tone was downright spine-chilling. He was out for blood. Mark held you closer to his chest as you both sprinted down the sidewalk, praying to god Haechan didn't know where you’d gone. 
It was downright odd. Why was no one there but you three? The weather was perfect for an afternoon walk with your dog around the neighborhood, but there was nobody. Not even someone tending to their garden or taking out the trash. And how had no one bat an eye at the piercing sound of a gunshot? 
Wondering if it was a coincidence or if there was something much more nefarious at work made your head spin. The emptiness was unnerving. You couldn’t comprehend how Haechan could have gotten the entire neighborhood to evacuate, but you had underestimated him once. You weren’t keen on doing so again.
Having Mark there to support your weight was the only thing keeping you from dropping to the ground in surrender. You were just so tired. You were tired of running, tired of mustering the strength to rouse another day only to be haunted by guilt and regret. It was close to consuming you. And there would nothing of you to remain. You were running on empty. Your body was exhausted, but your mind was worn thin. 
“Come on,” Mark said, noticing your strength dwindling. “You can do this, baby. We can get out of here.” 
Mark ground to a halt to face you and softened when he saw your eyes. He could tell this had ruined you. He would never know the girl you were before Haechan alas broke you. 
There was an uncanny resemblance between now and your nightmares. Haechan was hunting you down like an animal, hot on your heels. Only now, you had Mark to protect you. But deep inside, you knew there was nothing that could stand in Haechan’s way when he wanted something. 
Mark cradled you in his arms when you slept and kept the monsters under your bed away. But this was the real thing. He couldn’t save you. No one could.
It all just happened so fast. 
A loud snap rended the air and the very next second, Mark was crouching on the asphalt, stomach gaping with blood. He was wide-eyed, a hand cupping his stomach. 
“Mark!” you screamed. 
You dropped to your knees, crouching beside him, and tried desperately to keep the blood from leaving him all too soon. But there was so much. The sight of the deep color staining your hands only made you nauseous with deja vu. 
Mark was weak, still on the sidewalk. He couldn’t scream, but you could see the pain in his pretty eyes. It thoroughly devastated you. 
“Don’t leave me. Please, Mark,” you begged, tears stinging your eyes. But you couldn’t hear yourself speak. You couldn’t hear yourself think. You were so fixated on Mark slowly fading away beneath your fingertips that you didn’t notice the presence behind you until it was too late. 
Haechan’s voice was saccharine but his eyes were welling with ire, “He’s not going to make it, darling. There’s no one out here to help him.” 
You ignored Haechan, plagued by fear or hatred or all of the above. Watching Mark die would be too overwhelming. At least you had no recollection of your friend’s deaths. Seeing Mark take his final breaths would kill you too. “Keep your eyes open for me,” you told Mark, noticing he was going cold. “Keep them open!”
Mark was struggling, but he tried for you. You could feel the last piece of you die as he fought for his life and you sat there, unable to do anything to keep him stable. He was dying. He reached for your hand with his trembling arm and squeezed with all the strength he could muster. 
That angered Haechan and seething with rage, he coiled his arms around you, pulling you away from Mark. 
You kicked and threw your arms back, screaming at the top of your lungs, “Get your hands off me, you sick son of a bitch! You’ve taken everything from me! I fucking hate you!”
Haechan was unbothered, only cooing, “You don’t mean that, baby girl. One day you’ll understand that everything I do is out of love for you.” 
Mark was coughing up blood now and the sight was horrifying. Tears rolled down your cheeks. You were in so much pain, covered in wounds only you could see. You could only imagine what Mark was feeling now as he took his last breaths. 
Mark called out your name faintly and said with the last of his strength, “Thank you for being the best thing to ever happen to me.” 
You screamed in agony and grief when Mark’s eyes shut on you. You begged him not to leave you. Though he was only unconscious, you knew you’d seen and heard the last of him. 
Your pain was converted to anger and you thrashed in Haechan’s arms, only wanting Mark’s embrace. “Let me go,” you shouted, trying to escape. But to no avail. Your hands burned with his blood. Every inhale was agonizing. “Let go of me!”
“Shh,” Haechan whispered, swiping a trail of tears from your face. “Don’t you see? He was trying to come between us.” 
Haechan still kept you close by, but finally released you. You kneeled to the ground, too overcome by dizziness to stand. Your mind was screaming at you. Your heart was pounding. Every piece of you was so dead yet alive altogether. You could only scream, wanting to take your friend’s fate for them. 
Nobody heard you. There was nobody there. You cried and raged, but save for you, Haechan, and Mark’s lifeless body, the whole neighborhood was empty. You were alone in your pain and suffering and nobody would hear you cry. 
“Why?” you turned to Haechan and screamed, lips trembling. “Why do you keep doing this to me?”
Haechan pressed his lips to your ear and told you with no hesitation, “Because there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” 
Had you not already dissolved into tears, you would have. Life as you’d known it was forever gone because of this man and it had become unbearable now. There was no way you could live with yourself anymore. The guilt was overpowering. You were being self-protective, but Mark had died to protect you. Winter, Jaehyun, Yuta, and Ten had died at your expense. The feelings that plagued you now were simply too much for the human mind to handle. 
Your palms hit the ground, scuffing the asphalt. Your body was limp with defeat. There was no fight in you anymore. He had broken you. 
“You win,” you croaked, surrendering. “Whatever this game is, you fucking win. I can’t do this anymore.”
Haechan beamed, all too excited by those words. “I knew you would come around.” 
Haechan cradled you in his arms and you let him. You had no more strength or will to fight him. He had milked you dry. You only sat there unmoving, wondering where you’d gone wrong. If this could have been avoided or if Haechan destroying your life was merely inevitable.
Pain throttled you, hands clamped bruisingly around your neck. You cried and screamed until it was out of your system and your voice no longer worked. Haechan endeavored to soothe you the whole time, stroking your back. Even your tears were precious to him. He hated to make you cry, but one day you would understand why this needed to happen. 
For now, he had won. You said it yourself. There was a big grin on his face as he claimed victory. 
“There, there. It’s time to go now, babe,” Haechan cooed, lifting you into his arms. He liked that you still instinctively wrapped your arms around your neck, and he stared into your eyes, in love with the beauty within them. “You’re all mine now.”
“I’m yours,” you repeated back quietly, accepting. “All yours.”
A single tear slipped down your cheek. 
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owmyeyeballs · 1 year ago
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Batstarion Fic
I had to. Batstarion is too adorable for words. He's still a spawn in this fic, because I say so. Tav is Silence, my tiefling monk, and she's so done with her adorable weird vampire
It’s probably nothing. Of course it’s nothing. He’ll show up any minute. He’s fine, everything will be fine… Silence had been pacing so long, she wondered she hadn’t worn out the Elfsong’s shiny floorboards. Astarion was missing. Astarion had been missing for hours. Usually at this time of day he would be lounging at her side, reading a book and cradling a glass of wine. Ordinarily Silence wouldn’t have worried quite so much, but since the death of Cazador, Astarion had been a mess. Joyous one minute, on the verge of weeping the next, and through it all, extremely reluctant to leave Silence’s side.
He probably just needed some space. He’s probably just gone to track down some prey. He’s probably totally fine, and hasn’t fallen victim to a vengeful spawn, or a Bhaal-crazed murderer, or…
The door opened, and Silence turned in worried expectation, only to find Wyll regarding her sympathetically.
“Still no sign of our favourite bloodsucker, I take it?”
“Nothing. I should be out looking for him.”
Wyll came to stand by her, and rested a hand on her shoulder.
“You should be with the rest of us at the bar, relaxing. Astarion’s a grown man. There’s no sense worrying until we know for sure we have cause.”
“He’s barely been out of my sight since Cazador, and this city is dangerous, and…”
“And Astarion has two hundred years of experience navigating those dangers. I tell you what, if he’s still gone in another hour, I’ll join you, and we’ll go looking for him together. But until then, try to relax. I know Astarion’s been a little out of sorts since taking down Cazador. But so have you.”
Silence opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again. In truth, Wyll was right. After coming so very close to losing her lover, she had barely relaxed once.
“… You may have a point.”
Wyll smiled warmly, and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“Try to relax. If you won’t join us downstairs, at least sit down for a while up here. Even with your light feet, we can hear you pacing your way through the floorboards!”
As he left her to rejoin the others, Silence took his advice, collapsing on her bed. The absence of Astarion laying beside her, holding her close, did little to ease her worries. Without the vampire to hug, she clutched a pillow to her chest instead.
“Where are you, Stars…”
Her eyes drifting aimlessly across the elegantly furnished room, until they came to rest on her alchemy bag. A thought darted across her mind, and she leapt to her feet once more, taking the bag and rifling through the contents, until at last her hand closed on the bottle she wanted.
“I mightn’t be able to sniff you out, but I know who can!”
Scratch had settled quite happily into the Elfsong, and had already become a familiar presence at the bar, delighting in being petted and fed treats by patrons in various stages of inebriation. Seeing Silence, his tail began to wag, and he loped across the room to meet her. The taste of the animal speaking potion still lingering on her tongue, Silence knelt to scratch behind his ears.
“Hope you’re keeping well, Mistress! You haven’t joined us tonight! You’re missing out! There’s been singing!”
“I’m well enough, but worried,” Silence replied. “And I think you might be able to help me. Do you think you can track someone for me?”
Scratch tilted his head, the wagging of his tail slowing a little.
“I think so… But is it Astarion you want me to track? That… Might be a problem.”
Silence felt her heart begin to race in fear.
“Why? What’s happened? Do you know something?”
“He’s alright, Mistress. Well, I think he’ll be alright. But he made me promise not to tell!”
Silence frowned.
“Not to tell me what? Please, Scratch. I’ve been worried sick!”
Scratch let out a low whine, and tilted his head again.
“I don’t know… He said he’d bite me if I told! But… He likes you so much. I don’t think he’d like you to be worried… That makes telling you alright, doesn’t it?”
“I think so! And don’t worry, I won’t let him bite!”
Scratch let out a sigh, his tail wagging once more.
“If you go back to your room, Mistress, I’ll bring him to you there.”
Giving Scratch one last pat, Silence rose to her feet, halfway between relieved and worried.
What in nine Hells have you gotten up to, Stars?
Silence didn’t have long to wait before finding out.  She had barely settled back onto her bed when she heard Scratch’s claws clicking merrily on the floorboards, and her lover’s voice raised in indignation.
“If you don’t drop me at once, you filthy hound, I’ll visit you tonight and drain every last drop of blood from you! Do you hear me? You miserable fleabag, I mean it!”
Scratch came bounding into the room, something white in his mouth. Something winged and flapping angrily, and yelling in Astarion’s voice as it was dropped at Silence’s feet. A bat. A white, fluffy, red-eyed bat.
“At last! Ugh, I’m covered in your slobber, you beast! I ought to…”
Red eyes looked up at Silence, and blinked.
“Ah. Darling. I… Suppose I ought to explain.”
Silence knelt, and scooped the bat – Astarion? – up off the floor. He flapped his wings clumsily, trying to get his balance, and clawed feet gripped at her hands. Torn between laughing and shouting in disbelief, she stroked her thumb over soft, fluffy white fur.
“You’re a bat.”
Astarion heaved a sigh, and shot a glare at Scratch.
“I’ll deal with you later, mongrel. Now, shoo!”
“Ignore him, Scratch. But you can go back and have fun with the others.”
Tail wagging and tongue lolling out happily, Scratch left. Astarion gave an annoyed huff and folded his wings. Or, attempted to. His control over them seemed to be somewhat lacking.
“Well. I suppose an explanation is in order. I found a book, you see. When we were looting Cazador’s palace. A book on vampires, and vampire spawn. Turns out the bastard was keeping even more from us than I realised!”
He waved a wing angrily, nearly falling from Silence’s hands. She quickly sat down on the bed, and set Astarion down on a cushion.
“Turns out I’m capable of more than I realised. All of us spawn are. Apparently Cazador didn’t want us to get any ideas… According to what I’ve read, I ought to be able to turn to mist, to walk upside down on ceilings, to… Well, to turn into a bat. It took some experimenting, but I figured it out! Only…”
Silence bit her lip to keep a laugh from bursting out.
“Only you can’t work out how to turn back?”
Astarion groaned, burying his head in his wing in embarrassment.
“More than that, I can’t even figure out how to make this useless form fly! I’m stuck as a winged rat, scrabbling around on the ground… Do you have any idea how many times I’ve nearly been stepped on? And the kitchen cats tried to make a meal of me! I had to beg that damned mutt for protection! And… Are you laughing? Is this funny to you?”
Unable to hold in in any longer, Silence let out a snort of laughter, and only laughed harder as the little white bat gave her what he clearly imagined to be a ferocious glare.
“I’ve been worried about you, you precious bastard! And all the time you were a cute little bat!”
She scooped him up again and pressed a kiss to his furry head, holding him up and taking in the long, twitching ears, the leaf-like nose, the sharp little teeth he revealed as he shouted.
“Will you take this seriously? Imagine what the others are going to say! The sheer indignity will kill me!”
“That’s what you get for skulking around and playing with powers you don’t know how to use! Now, where’s this book? We’ll see if we can’t find a way to change you back.”
“Outside, on one of the tables out the back. Assuming no one’s stolen it, that is. Wait, you’re not leaving me here? What if the cats come back?”
Silence, paused, halfway through placing Astarion down on the bed again. He flapped his wings in indignation, and she sighed and placed him on her shoulder instead.
“There. Stop getting yourself in a flap – literally. Those wing claws are sharp!”
At last, with Astarion settled on her shoulder, Silence made her way downstairs, where the tavern rang with cheerful singing. Astarion let out a slight groan.
“Let’s get out of here, quickly. This form has sensitive ears, and that drunken caterwauling is making my head throb!”
Silence tried her best to avoid the rest of the party as she made her way to the door, but with no luck. Spotting her, Gale cried out.
“Ah, there you are! Joining us at last? Come on, pull up a chair, pour a glass! Hello… What have you got there?”
“Oh gods...” Astarion groaned, as Gale approached, looking curiously. “He’ll be insufferable…”
“Well, aren’t you a chatty little fellow?” Gale asked, reaching out to stroke the bat’s head. Astarion snapped at him. “And bitey! Reminds me of Astarion. Any luck tracking him down?”
“Don’t you dare tell him!” Astarion hissed. “I’ll die of embarrassment!”
Gale couldn’t understand, Silence realised. Not without the animal-speaking potion. Although… Her eyes darted to the bar, where Halsin stood close by. Sure enough, the druid was smiling, having clearly understood.
“It seems our pale friend is in something of a predicament! How have you managed that, Astarion?”
“Astarion?” Gale frowned, and looked around the bar. At long last, his eyes returned to the bat currently fuming on Silence’s shoulder. “He isn’t… Is he?”
Well, there was no avoiding it now. One by one, the others turned their attention to Astarion, who hid his face in his wings.
“That’s Astarion?” Karlach cried, leaping from her seat and coming to pet his fur. “He’s so cute! And soft! Aren’t you just precious?”
“Certainly an interesting development,” Wyll remarked. “Could be useful for scouting ahead, or getting to places we can’t…”
“Have you figured out your wings yet?” Halsin asked. “Many druids struggle with flight when they first take a winged form. I can offer some advice, should you need it?”
Astarion flapped his wings angrily, brushing away Karlach’s hands and nearly falling from Silence’s shoulder in the process.
“Unhand me! Gods above, get me out of here!”
“Aww, listen to the cute little squeaks!” Karlach exclaimed. “Is he having a little tantrum?”
“He’s… a little overwhelmed. We’re going to go back upstairs and try to figure things out. See you all later!”
The book, thankfully, was where Astarion had said it would be. An ancient volume, full of loose and torn pages, which Silence briefly flicked through curiously. Arcane diagrams, bizarre illustrations, archaic text…
“You can browse it upstairs! Hurry, I can hear the cats coming back!”
“Alright, calm down. Relax, I’m not going to let you be a cat’s dinner.”
Making a brief detour past the bar for a bottle of wine, Silence hurried back upstairs, and settled onto her bed, the book in front of her, Astarion settling himself onto her lap. Pouring herself a glass of wine, she tried not to laugh as he clumsily attempted to open the cover with his wings, and failed, a giggle bursting out.
“Will you stop laughing? Do you have any idea how hard these wretched things are to control? They feel as if they ought to work like hands, but they don’t! I can’t pick anything up, I can’t turn pages… I can’t even scratch my nose!”
“You’ll figure it out in time, I’m sure. In the meantime…”
Silence gently scratched at the delicate, leaflike nose with one fingertip. Then, unable to resist the soft fur, turned her attention to the fur around his ears. Astarion closed his eyes, letting out a little sigh.
“Well… that I could get used to…”
With one hand now dedicated to bat-scratching, Silence opened the book with the other.
“Right, where were you up to?”
“There’s a page marked with a ribbon. Turn to that one.”
Silence obliged, turning to a page covered with illustrations of bats. Cruel-looking things, not at all like the fluffy white creature in her lap. Seemingly content in his lover’s lap, satisfied that his problem could soon be solved, and rather enjoying having his ears scratched, Astarion yawned, showing off those sharp little fangs again.
“Now, then. If you’d be so good as to turn the pages when I tell you…”
Peace settled over the room. Silence could make little sense of the archaic style of writing, but Astarion seemed to be puzzling it out. She sipped her wine, humming idly, the bat’s fur so very soft under her fingers…
“I wonder… Would you mind?”
Astarion flapped a wing clumsily at the glass in her hand.
“Seriously?”
“What? Perhaps things taste different in this form! It has to come with some perks!”
Silence gave a snort of laughter, but lowered the glass to Astarion’s level all the same, watching him lean over the rim.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Ugh! Gods, if anything, it tastes worse!”
The white fur around his mouth was now stained red, and he clumsily tried to wipe it with his wings. Silence rolled her eyes, and drained the glass herself.
“Now, if you’re done experimenting, ready for me to turn the page?”
How much time passed, Silence couldn’t say. After a while, it occurred to her that she was no longer being asked to turn pages, and the tiny body in her lap was making a rather curious sound.
“Stars? Are you… purring?”
“Hm?” Astarion twitched an ear in her direction, his eyes closed. “I… I suppose I am.”
He yawned again, and the purring resumed. Marking the page, Silence closed the book and set it aside. Gently picking Astarion up, she lay down and settled him on her chest, high enough that he could nuzzle into her neck.
“You seem comfortable, and I’m tired. We can read more in the morning.”
When Silence woke, it was to a familiar figure in bed beside her, arms wrapped around her waist, nose nuzzled into her neck. Letting out a sigh of relief, she stroked a hand through Astarion’s white curls, and scratched lightly at a pointed ear. Not as twitchy and delicate as his bat ears, but still adorable. He gave a sleepy hum of pleasure, and held her tighter.
“Well, last night was interesting. You figured out how to turn back.”
“Not consciously, but it seems the form wears off when I sleep. I think I’ll do some further reading before trying that again.”
“That sounds wise,” Silence agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Though, for what it’s worth, you do make an adorable bat.”
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qibsichan · 3 months ago
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“I POSSESS A QUESTION, ONE ASKED OF MY PEOPLE. I AM BLESSED TO HAVE BEEN BROUGHT TO LIFE SURROUNDED NOT BY HERETICAL HUMANS BUT BY THESE "SMALLER BODIES". THEY HAVE WELCOMED ME TO THEIR QUARTERS.”
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There's a new toy on board! Introducing BigNap! (Unless a more eloquent name is suggested!)
Sarificed for research and condemned to an unsustainable body, Theodore Grambell's old body has melted away at the hands of Miss Delight and Harley Sawyer. His mind has been reignited in a different vessel - one twelve feet tall and with the power to tear a school bus in half.
But it's alright, because while BigNap may be vengeful and venomous, he's quite the dear little kitty to those dang Smaller Bodies in the Playcare.
So much so that he's introduced in the very first chapter of Destroy-A-Toy! It's underway!
Now, Bigger Bodies Catnap's question is:
(He asks because his debut is in the very first story for DAT and therefore his formatting must be worked out.)
How This Creature Works
Big Catnap, as colloquially named by the Critters, children and teachers of the Playcare, is the new-and-improved replacement for that old, faulty thing who cried too much. He is twelve feet tall and an absolute tank - if you ignore the protruding ribcage and ominous growling stomach.
Appearance
The same as the Catnap found in the original Poppy Playtime. Big Catnap is a large, scrawny creature with a protruding spinal chord and disconcerting slices of ribcage jutting from his paper-thin skin. His eyes are minuscule and set deep into mouth-like sockets. His fur is abyssal-dark felt soft to the touch.
Deep inside his throat, if one were to look, pipes could be found. Who knows what they produce?
Personality
Quiet, docile and allegedly "friend-shaped" (according to my friend Foxfire), this Catnap looks like he can kill you but is in fact a cinnamon roll. At least, to people he likes. Otherwise you can expect yourself to be on the plate.
BigNap is possessive over the Playcare children and loving towards toy experiments - but has a VERY strong hostility to humans. This is an issue because of the upcoming Toy Tour…
Theodore gasses the children not out of obligation but out of concern for their health and sleep.
Biology
A creature of this size requires LOTS of food. The problem is - he isn’t given the correct amount. Why drain resources for an experiment that may not survive anyway? As such, Big Catnap is constantly just one bite off from a full belly.
His tank possesses MUCH greater quantities of poppy gas - however, it’s watered down. The gas:
Takes up to 10 minutes to knock out children and 30 for adults
Does not leach oxygen
Works slowly but surely to lull the victim to sleep
This is NOT how Smaller Bodies Catnap works. Her smoke is quick-working and oppressive while this Catnap works much more as a calm, steady, peaceful lull to sleep.
-🌟🌙✨-
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lanitalay · 7 months ago
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Supernatural
Azriel Supernatural AU x reader
Summary: In which you encounter a couple of hunters during a case. 
A/N: I've been rewatching supernatural and i just love it. This is based on the early seasons. Hopefully the ACOTAR and Supernatural fandoms overlap.
Warnings: mentions of blood and death, nothing descriptive.
wordcount: 1.7k
Masterlist
“It’s totally vampires, Az. Remember that nest we took out in Idaho? They did the same thing with their victims.” Azriel bites his lip recalling that hunt, it was in the top ten worst moments of his life. “I know you’re right but those things give me the creeps. The way their fangs just-” he gags thinking about the extra set of teeth. 
“You big baby, it's just teeth. What gets me is the decapitation. Ghosts are easy. Salt. Fire. But these suckers are a nasty job.” You look over your notes before asking “do you think Cass and Rhys could give us a hand? I think we’ll be outnumbered.” 
He shakes his head “we could call but last time we talked they were up to their necks on a vengeful spirit case. Get this, the bones are scattered in different places because the deceased couldn’t decide where to be buried.” You chuckle. “Those two always get caught up in something like that. What about Mor? Or Amren? I’ll call them just in case.” 
Two phone calls later and no back up to show for it. “That was a bust.” Azriel nudges your arm. “Hey, we can do this. We can figure out a way to take them out one at a time.” You sigh and lean your head against the window. Watching as endless fields blur into one another. “You’re right, wake me up when we get there will you?” Before he can say yes you’ve dozed off. 
The road to Texas was long and lonely for Azriel. You slept the whole way and he was forced to keep himself company with mindless humming and singing lyrics from songs he probably misremembers. You’re usually the dj, but he knows if he messes with your tapes he’s in deep shit. You arrive at the usual dingy motel at around midnight. 
“Hey, sleepy head, we’re here.” Az is careful not to startle you, slightly shaking your arm with a scarred hand to rouse you from sleep without setting off your hunter instincts. “I’m awake.” You mumble but don’t move to get out of the truck. “I’ll go get us a room, while you wake up.” A hum is the only response he gets. 
When he returns he sees you unloading the truck with a pep in your step. “We’re in 9.” Once you’ve settled in, it dawns on you that you took a six hour nap on the ride here. There’s no way you’ll be able to fall asleep now. “Az, you want something to eat?” He yawns “no thanks, I’m going to turn in for the night.” 
“Well I’m not tired. I’ll grab a bite at that bar across the street and come back.” You put on your jacket and make the short walk to the hole in the wall establishment that always seems to accompany the motels you frequent. “One beer and a burger, please.” It 's quiet. You assume that it’s because it’s Tuesday. Until you overhear the conversation from two guys at the bar. “Six people went missing and all of them were last seen here, Sammy, something’s up.” 
“I know, Dean, but we’ve been here a week and no one can point us in the right direction. Maybe they left.” Hunters, and by the sounds of it, they are on the same case.  The bartender sets a pint in front of you, when it’s in your hand you walk over. “Are you two looking for a vampire nest?” They seem to have a language of their own, exchanging a few glances before the one with blondish hair says “depends, who’s asking?”
“Y/n, my partner and I just got into town after hearing about six disappearances. Looks like you two got a head start.” You sit with them in a shadowy corner of the bar as they tell you about the roadblocks they’ve encountered. “Most of them came here without telling anybody they knew, they weren’t regulars.” The taller one with brown hair finishes. 
“So they were lured.” They nod. “It’s been quiet since we got here.” You finish the burger and wipe your fingers with the thinnest napkin you’ve ever seen. “They got six people in two weeks, that’s enough blood to keep a nest alive for a month.” But something’s off and you can tell they feel it too. “What were your names again?” 
“I’m Sam.” “I’m Dean.” No way.
 “Winchester?” They nod. 
“That’s crazy! I knew your father! It’s sort of how I got started in all of this actually-” you stop yourself, John is dead now and these were his sons “I’m sorry for your loss, he helped a lot of people.” Az is going to freak when you tell him. Dean swigs his beer and says “yeah well, that’s what happens when you make deals with devils.” 
It’s tense for a bit while you finish your beer “well, if you don’t mind it, my partner and I could help on the case. Four machetes are better than two. We’re staying right across the street. Room 9. See ya, boys.” 
The next morning you tell Azriel about your encounter. “I’m telling you Az, they seem nice enough. If we team up it will be safer.” He’s unsure, always wary of strangers. “I don’t know, y/n-” just then, a knock at the door. You check the peephole before opening it. “Hi guys, this is my partner Azriel. Az, this is Sam and that's Dean.” The brothers brought coffee, by the looks of it it’s from the prehistoric machine in the lobby. “We talked about it and we agreed, working together will speed things along.” 
“Az?” He sighs. “Fine.” 
“He’s chipper,” Dean quips. “He’s not a morning person,” you quickly defend. You were the only one allowed to comment on his crankiness. 
After a day of following dead ends, you sit with Dean at the same bar. Sam and Az are still trying to find something in the archives. “So what’s the deal with you and your partner?” 
“Why? Are you interested?” He chuckles. “Just curious, your room had two beds. Are you two not involved?” Maybe it was the whisky, but you said “not romantically.” 
“So he won’t be upset if I buy you another drink with the intention of getting in your pants?” You roll your eyes. “Your reputation precedes you, Winchester.” 
“My reputation as a hunter or a ladies’ man?”
“Your reputation as a shameless flirt.” He leans closer to you “is it working?” You laugh and push him off. “No.” 
“So there is something between you and Azriel. I bet he’s clueless. I’ve seen it time and again.” You keep nursing your glass. “I wouldn’t say he’s clueless. But you know how this job is. One second you’re here and the next… I think we both agree that it’s better if we don’t cross that line with each other.” 
“But you could cross that line with me.” He winks. “No, Dean. I don’t think I could.”
 He straightens away from you and sips his beer. “You said you met my dad?” 
“Oh, yes. It was years ago, I was a freshman in college and a vengeful spirit was wreaking havoc on the campus. John showed up right before the son of a bitch gutted me. After that it was hard to go back to classes, you know?” 
“And how did you meet Azriel?” 
“Az and I met in a bar like this one, he had been hunting with his friends for a while and I hustled them for gas money.” 
“You play pool?” You shake your head and try to keep a straight face as you say “I play fools, Dean.” 
When Azriel and Sam returned, he did not like what he saw. In truth, he was glad to see you were having fun but he hated seeing you having fun with someone else. It's not like he could complain. You both refused to cross that line. Sleeping next to each other every night, on different beds was not the whirlwind romance he wanted to give you. It wasn’t the life you deserved. But he stuck by your side because everytime he wanted to slow down, to stop, maybe go back to school, you refused. “There are monsters, Az and we save people. I can’t go back to sitting in a classroom only to end up working in an office.” He wanted domesticity. He wanted a routine. He wanted a lawn to mow and to barbecue on weekends. But more than that he wanted you. 
“She’s a keeper, Az.” Dean joked as you sunk the last ball in the socket. Azriel clenched his jaw, not liking the familiarity with which Dean nudged your shoulder. It had only been a day since you met and you were acting like you’d known each other for years. 
“You don’t have to sleep here if you don’t want to.” Your face scrunches in confusion at his tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“I’m sure you'd rather be with Dean right now.” 
“Azriel, don't be like that.” He shrugs “just saying, you two were making eyes at each other all day.” 
“We were not.” He doesn’t say anything else but there’s a tension that lingers. “I hate when you do this.” 
“I’m not doing anything.” 
“You’re picking a fight. You know I would never be with anyone else.” 
“You could.” 
“I don’t want to.” 
“Y/n-”
“I know Az, “the life’s too dangerous,” “we’d be more vulnerable,” “it just gives the bad guys ammunition.” I know the whole song and dance of why we can’t… I get it. But it makes me feel stupid when I could be out with someone who actually shows interest in me but I stay with you.” 
“I’m not holding you hostage, you can go if you want.” 
“You’re an idiot.” With a huff you storm out of the room. Not entirely sure where you’re going, you wander around the motel grounds for a while. Knocking on Dean’s door was an option, but you wanted to be alone. He was infuriating. Azriel knows which buttons to push and when. He does this every so often, picks a fight to create iciness between you. It makes temptation easier if you’re too mad at each other to give in, you suppose. 
It's past midnight, and the lights in room 9 are off. In your haste you forgot a key. You go to the lobby and are surprised to see an attendant. “Hi, I locked myself out of my room and my partner is asleep. Do you have a spare key by any chance?” 
“Of course, name and room number?” 
A click sounds from behind and you turn to see a man, turning the Open sign to Closed.  His neck is covered in scruff and bite marks. You look back at the attendant. The ledger, that weighs at least ten pounds, slams across your face. 
You wake up tied up and breathless in a windowless room. Six bloodied bodies surrounding you.
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daydream-believin · 4 months ago
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Like a Boiled Frog (you don't even scream) [ch 2]
Start here!
chapter summary: you get to officially meet Mr. Michael A. Coveralls.
warnings: implied child abuse, its english willy idk what you expect
word count: only 3784. this one is more easily chewable lol.
taglist: @spirit-of-the-hollow
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The goddamn bear looked at you so fucking smug. God. So he did this. Cool, that’s so cool.
You took that fucker and tossed him into the oncoming traffic.
Watching a car run over Fredbear almost instantly as he hit the pavement was more than cathartic at this point. You stood with your hands on your hips, admiring your work. Take that you rat bastard ghosty son of a bitch.
Okay, not something you need to be directing at a child, even if he is more a vengeful spirit at this point. Actually, how do you even know it’s a child, huh? Demons often take the form of children to disarm their victims. You’ll keep that in mind while dealing with this.. thing.
Content with having watched Fredbear get run over at least once and not having the patience to wait for the *next* car to come this way in the wee morning hours in this small town, you turned back to head to your car again. Where you’ll be spending the rest of the night, unless Mr. Coveralls has a change of heart anytime soon.
You opened the driver’s side door, weary to the bone. Fredbear was in the seat, looking up at you just as smugly as ever. In perfect condition, not run-over roadkill at all.
In your defense, this is a plush, and he probably couldn’t feel anything as you violently strangled him. You angrily tossed him back into street, not even getting any satisfaction as you watched the plush make its arc back onto the pavement because you knew as soon as you turned your back, he’d be right there in the driver’s seat again.
You once again opened the door and grabbed the thing by the face, an eagle clasping prey in its talons. Bringing the damn doll with you this time, you went and banged on the glass of the front door. Very passionately, making sure Mr. Coveralls would clearly hear you over his tunes. Perhaps you pounded a little harder than you should’ve on this man’s obviously brand-new glass door but hey… Yeah, that’s the end of the sentence.
The music suddenly got a lot louder.
Cool. He’s on deck for strangulation.
You contemplated going to the back door, around the dumpster in the alleyway, but good ol intuition told you that being alone in a dark alleyway was never something you needed to be doing. Well, he has to come out this way sometime; His car is in the front. You can see it.
You dramatically slid your back down the wall until you were firmly slumped against it, sitting on the still-warm concrete. Feeling slightly more generous than before, and a bit more vulnerable, you cradled Fredbear in your lap. Guess you’ll just wait, then.
And wait you did. All night. This guy either was used to night shifts or just never slept.
The wall you rested your head against was so warm. It wasn’t even hard to get comfortable snuggling up to the hard surface. It had been so, so long since you’ve turned your brain off. Would it be too bad if you just dozed a little while waiting? You’re a light sleeper, there’s no way he’s leaving this building without waking you back up. It definitely couldn’t hurt to… close your… …
——
When Michael finally did try to leave, on his way to go pick up some more paint now that the sun was up, seeing you slumped against the building startled him. For a second there, he thought you were something else. But you weren’t about to bite him, thankfully. He was relieved, but then his mind quickly moved on to annoyance.
Why were you still here. It’s been hours.
His eyes scanned over you. You were ragged and dirty, like you haven’t showered or slept in days. Pathetic. Crumpled up on the pavement like this, you looked so small. And weak.
For a moment he thought— No, it wasn’t just his imagination. It felt like ice water dumped over his head. You were childishly clutching something close to your chest: one (1) all too familiar toy bear.
Christ alive.
No wonder you were tweaking like a mad March hare. That thing was probably frying your brains as we speak. Maybe messing with your dreams, if the grimace you wore in your sleep was any indication.
Well, it’s kinda his fault you’re here, then. In a way. That means he owes you. Great, he hated owing people, even if it’s just an apology.
He did have the option of just snatching the bear from you and letting you move on with your life. That would be the simplest, most painless route for either of you. But something tells him by the death grip you had on the bear in your sleep (as he tried to pry it from your grasp) meant it wasn’t going to be that easy.
You were snoring softly, completely dead to the world and oblivious of his little conundrum. And you didn’t rouse one bit as he shook you up trying to get the bear. You were out out. Michael sighed in defeat and grit his teeth. Might as well scoop you up and let you sleep on the stage inside the restaurant instead of the sweltering asphalt.
As he hefted you along bridal style into the dining room, you tucked your face into the rough fabric of his chest. Subconsciously seeking some sort of comfort, he guessed. Your face looked scared, but also innocent, like some kind of prey animal.
Too innocent for a place like this, at least, he thought.
You had mentioned driving here with no food or sleep. Where did you come from? How long had you been in this madness? Were you already reported missing? Would he see you on the milk carton?
Guess it wouldn’t matter. There’s no way you’ll make it out of here alive. You’re already marked.
You didn’t wake up, but he did cringe as he heard the dull thud of your body hitting the stage he laid you on. Not his fault, he was not used to carrying something so soft and alive. 
You tucked into yourself like a pillbug, encaging the bear with your body, and winced. Whatever was going on in your dreamscape must be terrible.
Well, sucks to be you. Time to go get yet another bucket of red paint. Apparently, he wasn’t that good at estimating how much paint he’d need, as this was now the third trip to the paint store. Hopefully this time will be the last.
——
You choked on a sob as you banged on the door. The party music blared from the dining room. No one was coming to help you.
It was so dark in here. Half of you was thankful you couldn’t see any of the horrors you knew lied in this room, but the other half of you was absolutely terrified because you couldn’t see the horrors that you knew lied in this room.
There was a scratching noise. You flinched, expecting a monster or a corpse. Relieved, you realized it was just a branch scraping the windowpane.
The window. It was like a lamp, guiding you. You walked carefully within the beam of moonlight coming from it.
If you tried hard enough, you could just get the rusty locks open…
MOVE. GET AWAY. KEEP MOVING! DON’T STOP! GET AWAY! GET AWAY!
The woods were parting to make way for the road, and you hesitated, not wanting to run on hot asphalt and gravel with your bare feet, but the sound of him approaching became louder, so you swallowed the pain and crossed. Speaking of crossed, you could hear him shouting swears as a car zipped past, a witness. You couldn’t breathe again until you hit the next treeline.
An elk bolted through the bushes and you could hear the snuffling of a hog but neither of them posed a greater immanence of danger as the grown man chasing after you. Hunting you like his prey.
As you ran, you spotted something gleam in the now almost completely set light of the sun peeking through the canopy. There was an axe embedded in the trunk of a nearby tree. You struggled to get it out but alas your weak arms just couldn’t. You even tried using your legs for leverage. After pushing with all of your might against the trunk, you landed in a heap at the base of the tree, the axe handle slipping from your sweaty grasp. The darn thing wasn’t going to budge. You could hear him trying to find you, you could hear his ragged breathing. You left it.
Running with abandon, you tripped over a tree root, scraping your knees as you fell. Try as you might, you couldn’t control the tiny, startled scream you let out as you made contact with the earth. Raking the tears off your face, you hoped it was as close to the dirt and the worms as you were going to get tonight.
“THERE YOU ARE,”
You winced as he called out across the forest. You wiped your nose with your sleeve as you ran, occasionally hiccupping out of your control, but there was no time for crying.
It was getting darker and darker each passing second. But there was a Light. That precious light pulled you in like a moth. There was smoke and thankfully that smoke was coming from a chimney. coming from a chimney. There was a House.
Your lungs burned as you continued to sprint to your new destination. If there was a house, and if there was a light, then there were people.
Normally you wouldn’t dare make such an obvious noise, but you didn’t care anymore. You couldn’t afford to care. There wasn’t a single second to spare. You furiously knocked on the door.
The door pushed right open.
Your eyes reflexively darted back to the treeline, seeing the silhouette of your hunter getting closer and closer. You had no choice, you had to go in. You had to find a Grown Up. You had to find a Human Being.
…There was No One. You searched; you called out for help. All the lights were on and the fireplace burning, but not a single person was inside. The kettle was even on the stove, heating, but not a kitchen attendant to be found. Unless somehow a ghost was making tea, they had to have just left.
Suddenly, you heard his ragged breathing outside the kitchen window. You had to think fast. You threw open quite a few cabinet doors before finding one empty enough to cram your body into. Gently closing the doors, you made your hideout. Just in time too, as you heard his heavy footsteps creak across the threshold of this stranger’s home.
“Where are you? ~” he called out in a singsongy tone, “Come on now, you know we need to be getting back soon. This little game has gone on long enough, Evan,”
You held your breath as long as you could, trying your hardest to release it now without too much noise. His footsteps got quieter, and with the creak of the door, he obviously was checking the one bedroom of the house. You panted as softly as possible, your lungs desperate for oxygen. They burned in your chest, and your throat was raw too.
The echoing footsteps came back. You could hear the sound of him moving a heavy piece of furniture, maybe he thought you under the couch. But suddenly, the most startling, terrifying sound rang in your ears.
The kettle was whistling. Screeching. Screaming.
You went to muffle the sound with your hands in your hair, but soon decided you needed to be able to hear as clearly as possible, as your hunter drew near. The kettle having called him over like an alarm.
You closed your eyes, praying to Saint Nicholas, please, please, please.
BAM-- he threw open a cabinet door, not caring if it slammed into the counter. It sounded only a few cabinets away from you. You prayed he’d turn the other direction— SLAM— nope, he’s getting closer.
You couldn’t help the tears that ran down your face, or the terrified sob that accidentally left your mouth. You tried covering your mouth, but you just choked instead.
Your blood turned to ice as you heard him chuckle to himself, his laughter building as he drew nearer.
An all too familiar dry laugh, that becomes almost a wheeze. A wholehearted chuckle that comes from the gut but lacks any semblance of warmth.
With the speed at which your cabinet door was slammed against the one next to you, and the blinding light flooding in and hurting your eyes, your father may as well have flash-banged you. Your head hit the counter as you were violently ripped from your hidey-hole, his talons gripping the collar of your shirt.
“FOUND YOU!”
—-
You desperately gasped for breath as you bolted awake.
What the hell was that.
It’s not like ‘something is hunting you, quick, run and hide’ isn’t one of your brain’s favorite dream scenarios to play, but this one was so… stable. Yeah, that’s the word. Stable.
Crisp. Clear. Coherent.
As you huffed air that was strangely chemically, trying to steady your breathing, you soon forgot the dream in favor of a different mystery: where were you?
And what the hell were those.
You were face to face with a milk crate with paper cartoon eyes taped onto it, with makeshift arms made out of a couple dowel rods with foam fingers stuffed onto them. Next that thing was a figure with a trash can body with a balloon tied to the lid for a head. You checked behind you. Yet another of these crazy sculptures was what had to be a bunch of mop handles tied together to make a body with oven-mitts for hands and the mop bucket placed as the head.
All of the sculptures looming over you wore silly grins drawn on with sharpie marker, and you were kinda concerned for whoever erected these things. Maybe some kind of prank, or perhaps it was just too avant garde for you. Guess “clowncore” was something the kids were into these days.
The smell of wet paint was starting to get to you. Probably. Really, your current headache could be any number of things. The list was pretty extensive right now.
You finally took a look around the greater area of the room, realizing you were on some sort of stage. This was.. a dining room?
The flooring was checkered. The walls freshly coated in red paint. There was a good size amount of tables and chairs. The cheap vinyl kind you’d find at a pizza hut.
OH.
You were in the pizzeria. The pizzeria. Freddy’s.
You had no memory of getting here…
“Oh good, you’ve been out all day,” a voice called from somewhere, “come help me take this out to the dumpster,”
Mr. Coveralls came into the dining room from some hallway, dragging a couple full black trash bags along with him as he dollied out a rather disgusting looking toilet to assumably the dumpster he mentioned.
Not one to disobey a direct order, oof let’s unpack that later, you find your way off the stage finally, tottering after him. You know, after you recover from the black out head-rush of standing up. He sort of half tosses you a bag, and when you catch it, you definitely understand why. It’s heavy af. Full of old tiles, judging by the loud clatter of broken ceramics the bag emitted.
There was no way that you were gonna be able to heft that thing into the open maw of the dumpster, and thankfully Mr. Coveralls seemed to realize this and did that for you.
Strangely, he didn’t look any more human in the light of day. He hadn’t made any effort to cover the missing flesh of his face, which was a ghastly purple, like you thought had to have been a trick of the eyes last night. You wondered just how much of him was bruised like that, considering the hands he used to take the bag of broken tiles from you were also undeniably purple as well.
And more frightening than anything, he looked like that horrible man from your dreams. The same face, the same smile. Younger, and his accent was a bit to the left. Was he… was he the little boy?
Speaking of...
“So, uh, what’s your name?”
“Depends, are you a cop?” he put his hand on your shoulder as he ushered you back through the door y’all came from, like he didn’t want you to see what was out there, “Let’s get back inside,”
He came off a bit pushy to you.
“Uh. No? I’m pretty sure I’m not,”
He chuckled, “You’re ‘pretty sure’?”
“Well, I don’t know, I could always be a CIA sleeper agent and I just haven’t heard the right activation phrase yet.”
“Let’s hope not, then.”
It was quite dim in the pizzeria in comparison to the outside, even with the lights on. A couple of the tacky florescent light bulbs were out and hadn’t been changed yet. You got the feeling he probably didn’t have plans on doing that anytime soon, with the way he was displaying garbage as a stage attraction.
“So are you going to tell me your name, or?”
“You haven’t told me yours yet, why should I?”
Took everything in you not to roll your eyes. Not like he could see, as he was currently shoving you along.
“Oh my god, it’s Y/n,” you were getting past impatient with this man, escaping his grasp and turning to stand your ground, “what is your goddamn name, Mr. Coveralls?”
He held out his hand, you took it annoyedly, “Mr. Michael A. Coveralls, a pleasure,”
God, that shit-eating grin. You shook his hand a bit harder than a person should.
“Y/n L/n, a pleasure to meet you too,”
Having mollified you, he started trying to herd you to the door again, despite your protests.
“Look it’s getting late, it’ll be dark soon, let’s get you back home or to your hotel room or whatever,”
Oh, that reminded you. You looked around frantically, “Where’s the bear?”
“Ah— Uh-“
You turned back from the direction he’d been pushing you, past the arcade machines and heading into the dining room once again. Once inside, you spotted Fredbear’s golden fur like a beacon and made a beeline for the stage.
Michael somehow made his way in front of you again, effectively stopping you with his hands on your shoulders. You could feel how cold they were even through the fabric of your shirt.
“Listen to me, I really think it might be best for everyone if you just go home, leave this here, and forget about the whole ordeal.”
Oh hell no. You did Not drive all this way for him to just take this haunted doll from you and throw you out the door like a messenger pigeon. You were at the very least getting some answers.
It was your turn to now shove him. Which startled him, Michael didn’t think you had it in you. But with him out of the way you stomped over to the stage, grabbing the bear before he could protest.
“Tell you what, I’ll leave when you tell me just what the fuck is going on.”
He clenched his jaw as you two entered a staring match. A glaring match, really. You held his gaze. Ha, you had the advantage of having spent the last couple of days staring unblinkingly at the sun-bleached roads. Your eyes were already so dry, you could unsettlingly stare at him for hours. But unfortunately, he also didn’t feel the need to blink, probably related to the fact that his eyes didn’t look real.
Finally, he relented, “Man, you really want to die, huh?”
“I don’t think any of this cares what I want.”
You returned your attention to the toy bear in your arms, cradling him. Palming his cheek, you swiped a thumb along his face, watching how the gold fur appeared darker depending on which way you rubbed it.
“Do you…” you couldn’t meet Michael’s eyes, “do you know what happened to him? I feel like you do.”
He chuckled to himself, and that made it all the more worse in your mind. It was almost the same laugh that had burned itself into your brain, serenading you like a broken record. Almost. This one sounded like it came from something still capable of human emotion.
“What makes you say that?”
“Not to be weird or anything but you kinda look like the psycho he was afraid of in my dreams. Like, a younger, but also somehow worse version of him. Like a version of him who got dragged behind a car on the highway for miles, like—“
“Okay, you can stop.”
“Sorry,” that probably wasn’t helping your standing with him, and thus decreasing the likelihood he’ll tell you anything. Shit, you and your big mouth.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, “…for the record though? I’m the version of him who got gutted like a fish,”
He laughed when your face screwed up in horror and empathized pain, your teeth grit tightly.
“But that’s not the story you’re asking for right now,” he motioned to the stage, giving it a pat, “Come on, sit.”
You hopped up there on his request, pulling your knees up to sit Indian style with Fredbear taking his seat in your lap. Michael didn’t make any effort to get comfortable, which was probably foreshadowing that this was about to get really UNcomfortable. For the both of you, most likely.
He smiled at you. Fair enough, you probably looked really goofy, sitting here amongst the trash sculptures, cuddling a toy bear in a top hat.  And, oh, there was that laugh again.
It really wasn’t the same, as much as hearing it made you silly brain panic at first. Whereas the laugh from your dream had been choking, dusty smoke, this one was a smoldering fire. There was still warmth hidden underneath all the ash, and all it needed was some kindling to get the flames going again. Or maybe some kerosene.
You weren’t sure if you could be the one to give that to him, but you sure as hell could try.
He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, “Okay, so, I guess I should start off with a question: Do you have any younger siblings?”
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sculptorofcrimson · 7 months ago
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Dance Macabre Pt 1
Traitor!Valdor AU Synopsis: The cycle begins again. And the one shard he spared. The one shard, in all his millenia, that he did not kill. Relations: You'll see ψ(`∇´)ψ
She was the one and the only. The error in the code, the flaw in the machine, the exception to the rule. She was the shard that lived, the one and the only to be spared from the bite of his blade.
She was nothing exceptional in many instances. Slight above average psychic ability. A little above average of the Emperor's essence. Average intellect, strength, emotional response. Absolutely nothing at all. And yet she lived. She was the one, and the only, in all ten thousand years that the Traitor Captain reigned for his terrible, tyrannical rule before he was finally brought down and he ended the same way his master had ended: with golden ichor. Master and slave, Emperor and bodyguard, victim and assassin, let them be intertwined in death. Let him love Him, if only in death.
For all the years he had spent as a traitor, she was the only one who felt his wrath, and lived.
It was not love, the twisted thing they had. It was not even lust. He did not lust. He could not lust. He quite literally could not know desire. The one thing he had once cherished, worshiped, reveled in was dead, and He had torn out the machine that had been a heart when he betrayed Him. He had cast him down, through the gold and through the brume. His talons in his breastplate, His scorn upon His tongue, His hatred blazing in golden eyes as He speared Valdor through upon His claws and cast him down. That final, snipping cut, severing the bond between master and slave in a single, terrible instant upon the Vengeful Spirit.
It was no longer love. He loved Him, and He did not care.
He loved Him. He hated Him. He loved Him. He loathed Him. Around and around with the pendulum, desperate, broken, singing. The call of a mind stripped of all its gifts. Such a broken, piteous sight.
And so he hated His bones. His shards. His remnants. He did not know hate, his master had torn it out of him in so many regards, but he loathed them. He regarded them with no more kindness than if they had been Horus himself, as if they had been the ones to have poisoned him and given him the broken gift of being able to feel all he had lost. Of being just human enough to hate, to thrash and to weep against his chains, but without the true power to care, to know what he lost. Doomed to forever wander for a city he could not name and did not know, groping around blindly in the dark for something he lacked, but could not remember. 
He loathed them. 
He cursed their name the same way he cursed Horus. Horus, for his treachery. Horus, for his gift. Horus, for the way he had so gallantly smiled and welcomed Constantin with open arms when he had lowered the walls of the Palace, when he had broken the Siege of Terra alone and greeted Horus' hordes with gaping gates and scrambling defenses. Horus, for bringing him the truth.
Look at them. Despicable things. Wearing the face of his master as if it was a mask. He could not loathe Him directly, He had taken that away, but he could loathe them. He could loathe them for being Him but not being Him enough, he could loathe them for looking like Him, breathing like Him, living like Him once upon a time, he could hate them for carrying what should have been his. It was like looking upon the corpse of the sun, feeling its dying warmth screaming across the void but knowing it was held in the palm of a worthless mortal. A mortal. Nothing at all, when compared to him.
His master left His bones to the gentry instead of His servant. There was no greater insult than to see Him again, alive, living through their useless bodies, when He had died for their countless, dreary lives and they had lived. They lived for Him, they lived in His place, they're living and desecrating His corpse which should have so righteously remained dead. Let the galaxy burn, let it burn itself to ashes and consume itself under the weight of its voracious hatred, let the mortals stumble and fall and lead themselves to a piteous doom, he would have gladly let them all burn if only he could see Him again. If only to feel the warmth of His love, even if he had to torch Him alive to feel it.
He died ten thousand years ago. And in His place, they wear His corpse.
He sees His face imprinted upon theirs, he sees His bones, rotten and crumbling, stretched over their fragile bodies. He sees His essence, trapped inside, cradled in flesh and bone and it was his duty to tear it free. It was his duty to punish such blatant disrespect of His legacy, his righteous crusade to set Him free and return His soul where it belonged: in the palm of His favored servant. Let them all burn, he reasoned, let them all burn if only he could ignite his lord one last time.
When they fell into his claws, nothing awaited his master's bones but destruction. 
It would have been impulsive for the normally heartless captain, if it had been any but his master. It would have been cruel, it would have been horrifying, it would have been treachery and blasphemy and heresy. But it was also justice. Justice, at least for him. Justice as he watches them scream, sob and wither away, as he watches their fragile bodies break down from starvation and dehydration, dying as their bodies struggle from the poisons pumping through their bloodstream, drowning in their own blood. How he replicates His wounds one by one, first the tendons, then the muscles, then the eye, and then the corpse itself. The Apollonian Spear, carefully, with infinite precision, carving tiny cuts upon them, bleeding them out drop by drop, tasting his lord's memories with each slice. Listening to Him screaming as he sets his boot down upon a fragile, mortal chest, hearing Him roar out in indignity and in betrayal as he presses down and hears the shard's ribs crack and then crumble beneath his weight, as their chest finally gives out beneath the endless pain. And feeling Him die, once more, blood dripping like ichor over the Apollonian Blade, finally preserved in the last tomb He would ever know: the very spear of his servant. Home again at last, as He deserves to be. 
He will kill them all. It was spoken in his vows. 
There is no respite for a shard in the Yellow King's arms. There is only oblivion. He will never spare them, never love them, never hold even a candle of adoration for his former master. To those that dare desecrate His corpse, there is only death, and a slow, horrifying drowning, lost limb by limb to uncaring treachery. He always kills them, as soon as the Aquilan Shields are scattered, their shields shattered and their spears cast aside. His brothers are nothing compared to him. They always die, in hours, or in days if the Aquilan Shields are resourceful, if they're willing to sacrifice themselves for the shard. They rarely succeed, of course. He is Constantin Valdor, and he is the Emperor's greatest assassin, and he will tear His soul shred by shred from the mortal corpses He wears.
When he has them, they always die.
She alone was the exception.
In all ten thousand years, she was the only one who has faced his wrath, lost by the Aquilans, and lived.
She was an Inquisitor of the Ordos Malleus. She had been the one hunting him, the King in Yellow, until the day he caught up to her, and tore her ship open in the middle of the Warp. The Aquilan Shields had come soon before, they had told her what she had to know, and in the Inquisitor's arrogant, off-handed way, she had dismissed them. She had dismissed the fear she saw in their eyes, dismissed it the same way she had dismissed her concerns and plunged into her hunt.
She still remembered that day, the golden devil clad in the raiments of his lost brothers, his cloak a ragged, dead thing hanging over his shoulders, glorious and golden and horrifying as he gutted the ship apart hunting for her. The fear in Ashavar's eyes, visible even through his helm. The way they danced, blade over blade, spear against spear. Valdor fought in his peerless, immaculate style, but now with vicious abandon, the mark of a soul that had nothing left to lose. They had prepared for this. They had prepared a thousand contigencies for this day, yet none of them would serve them at all. Ashavar clashed against him, forcing all his strength into a strike that made even Valdor stall. He punched him in that gap, without fitness and without grace, without any of the training Valdor had enforced upon him. He smashed one of the jewels on Valdor's armor, ducking under Valdor's riposte and dancing around the edge of the Apollonian Spearblade before Valdor stabbed him in the gut. 
There was utterly no honor at all. 
Valdor struck him three more times with the misericordia, Apollonian Spearblade briefly forgotten. He smashed his fist against the side of the Aquilan's helm when he had stumbled, pinning him to the bulkhead with one hand and bashing him against it for good measure. Casting him aside as if he weighed no more than a guardsman, Valdor had turned around to face her. And the Inquisitor had not fled. Gazing up into those blank eyes without even a hint of fear, she raised her own vox and spoke a single, terrible command. Her lips were trembling from nerves. But her eyes were calm, and dead, and utterly triumphant 
‘Ship command. This is your Inquisitor speaking. Activate the Cyclonic Torpedoes we're carrying. Activate all of them.' 
That was her secret. She had been willing to kill both herself and him even before she had set out upon this journey,  before she had met the Aquilan Shields. The captain goes down with her ship.
That brief, brutal moment of deathly cunning flashing through red eyelenses. The moment of revelation, spreading like ink through water. The way she had smiled, vicious, cruel, and victorious.
The Inquisitor had smiled mildly at him, and gave a nod in the direction of the engines. His eyes had tracked that movement, just for an instant, flickering between her and her command box.
'We'll die together, Constantin.'
She was still triumphantly holding her command box when Ashavar pounced.
He crashed onto not Valdor, but onto her. He had wrapped her up beneath his bulk, covering her entirely with his body. She could smell his incense, feel the cold hum of his auramite and feel the bruises forming from where he had smashed into her. He crushes her with all his weight, covering her, wrapping around her. She couldn't breathe but still she tried to scream. If not for herself, then for him. She couldn't see, Ashavar's purple cloak had obstructed her face, but she could feel him. The first misericordia blow shattered his auramite. The second broke through his spine. She could feel him convulse, spasming at least a dozen times beneath the blows. Valdor was so fast, so unspeakably fast, and vicious in his frenzy to get to her. To claw her out and tear out the Emperor's last breaths from her broken corpse. Ashavar groaned above her, and she could hear that voice, so commonly kind, so gentle, now raised in agony. A scraping sound. Ashavar spasmed. A siren was blaring somewhere from lower down on the ship. Then nothing. Ashavar's blood was clouding her eyes. His cloak was soaked with it. His slumped form, once so gigantic, briefly dwarfed by Valdor's looming shadow, now emptying itself of life. 
He had thrown himself over her, and Valdor had cut him to pieces.
'I'll see you again, my master.' It was a curse, as much as a promise.
The traitor Captain had left. Fled, like the coward he was, out of fear or rather "pragmatism", when he realized he would not have time to cut through his brother's corpse and escape the burning supernova of the ship. Fled to kill another day.
She remembers the Aquilans, their panicked voices, their spears and their axes. The way their Shield-Captain had bundled her up in his cloak and frantically tried to wipe the blood from her hair. Two Custodes carrying Ashavar through the winding corridors, ducking beneath the panicked crew. The Shield-Captain's voice, soft and mournful and still trying to be gentle, carrying her wounded form away from the fire. Away from the blood and that terrible, bloodstained cloak, whisking her away before the ship could implode beneath its own baggage of fire.
It was not the first time they would meet. And it was not the first time she would know, with cruel certainty, that he hated her. He hated her, as he hated all shards, and if he had the chance, he would have undoubtedly flayed them all alive, just for another sip of his master's love.
He loved his master. And he hated His shards.
~~~
They had scolded her after that stunt. The Aquilans had scolded her, their red eyelenses masking their fear. Fear for her, fear of him, fear of her and the lengths she was willing to go. They insisted on accompanying her on her walks, on tracking every moment of her health, and standing over her during her meals. It was infuriating. (Then again, she couldn't blame them. Her great-great-great-great ancestral grandmother had apparently been exiled after a much-similar failed coup. That stunt had garnered her much worse than just a few days of annoyance from Aquilan Shields being too overprotective of their charge).
She knew she was dead long before she had set foot upon Daedalus Lied, she had known she was a dead girl walking before she had even baptized her own ship after a long dead genius. The Inquisitor knew that she had been waiting for death since her love had last perished beneath the flames of a heretical cult she had failed to root out, she knew that not even her love of humanity(the Emperor's or hers now?) would have been enough to stop that tide of ink-laden despair that had threatened to pull her down since that terrible night. She had loved them, yes, she had loved this world, with every last of its worthless, tiny, miniscule lives, loved each of them to a vague, beautiful detail, but it was not enough, not enough to overcome her selfish wish for death. To be eternal, and endless, and be with her love in the lightlessness. 
She was nothing, in the grand scheme of things. Nothing but an Inquisitor with a dead psyker-assassin as a lover, a dead love she couldn't even stop from self-destructing from the waves of the warp. Nothing but an Inquisitor with a deathwish and the dying gasps of her beloved, and the heart of the Emperor beating within her. She was alone, so utterly alone even with six Aquilans watching over her, and perhaps that was why he spared her.
All those other shards. Mortal. Joyous, mischievous, alive, young in a way she could never be young, frivolous and dainty and pretty. He had killed them all. Those who were cruel, a king clad in gold and crimson, a budding emperor with a tyrannical fist, those he would occasionally spare, just to gaze upon Him for a few moments longer. Inevitably, they would extinguish, snuffed out once more in this incarnation. They always died, she knew, she knew even as she relived the moments of the many girls he had slaughtered. Their eyes, reflected in his cold, unfeeling auramite, their screams, echoing through the corridors of the past and into eternity. So small, so fragile, and so utterly dead beneath his gaze.
He met them again, in the span of months after her recovery but before the Aquilan Shields could truly let go of their fear. They still hung about her, wandering meaninglessly, fussing over her every beck and call. Months had passed. Her investigation, slow and grueling, had led her, with stealth and trickery, to the heart of the storm. To the traitor Captain's own lair. Maulland. The dead world where a fallen prince had once lived in exile.
He met her, face to face, in the gaping emptiness between the dead earth of Maulland's primary moon, the grey and white of the snow sailing over her uniform. The moon itself had no name, although its inhabitants had taken to calling it the Priest-King, out of some last kind of spite for the exiled captain that had once lived upon the world. He had lived here, peacefully, in silence, in contemplation and in grief, until his hate brought him out to hunt. Until his loathing for his master's corpse and his master's throne drew him out, and he rampaged.
They had stood, immobile, and for a while she heard nothing but the empty howl of the storm.
'You are here to die.' Valdor said at last. There was no tone of inflection in his voice, no sign of regret. Only flat, cold victory. She had returned his words with a smile, and a nod.
'And you are here to slay me.'
The traitor captain had smiled then. It was a cold, insane smile, the smile of a large starving cat finally having a fresh meal. He will kill her and carve her apart, of that the Inquisitor had no doubt. So be it. She was, as always, ready to die.
He hated her, she knew. He hated all shards. Good. She hated him too. She expected to die.
'Of course.' he gestures in a curt bow, similar to the bows he had demonstrated countless times to his master when they were King and Servant. 'I did not think you were quite as arrogant as you may have your entourage believe. Where are your bodyguards, Inquisitor? Where are your troops? Have they abandoned you tonight?'
'They're preparing to slay you, I presume.' she chuckled darkly. She doubted if any had advanced as far as she, to the point of striking out against the very heart of his traitor kingdom. It was not his throne, but it was his heart, the King in Yellow's long years of ruminations and exile baked into the very snows of the planet. She wondered if he would suffer, maybe crack a little inside, if she declared Exterminatus upon the world and its inhabitants. She wondered if he would mourn. Certainly not mourning for the planet's residents, or even for himself, but for all the years and memories he had spent, and lost, there.
Valdor had tilted his head. 'Ah. You have questions.' So coldly monotone as ever, so pleasant, even when he lowered the blade. She wondered if he had been so kind upon Ararat.
She had advanced then, moving towards him without fear. She could sense the Aquilan Shields' anxiety through her headpiece, hearing their auramite sevros crackle, feeling them tense in anticipation. Lehievin drew in a sharp breath. The Shield-Captain was ready in position, waiting to snap the jaws of the trap closed, waiting only for her word. She did not give it.
'You know what we are here for. Your crimes. Your sins. Your treachery, captain-general.' she met his gaze, and did not let him drop it. 'The slaughter of your own brothers. High treason to the Throne. Rebellion against the Emperor. The sabotage of loyal Imperium defenders. The destruction of the Palace. Consorting with the dark gods. By the authority of my office, by the word of the Inquisition and Ordos Malleus, and by the power vested in me by His words, you are forfeit of this city. You will be taken to Holy Terra and tried in fair and open court. Your fate will be determined by your brothers, and by Lord Guiliman himself. May the Emperor have mercy on your wretched soul, captain-general."
Her words seemed to amuse him, in some broken, forgotten way. 'I see,' he said at last. 'And what makes you think I will obey your fickle office, when I have, by your own words, rebelled against the Emperor Himself?'
Her lips twisted into a thin smile. Harshly, she laughed, brutal and barking and laughing against the wind. He simply crossed his arms over the shaft of the Apollonian Spear and listened to her. 
'Because you know, Constantin.' she finally growled out. 'You know you can't win, not against six Aquilan Shields with teleporter beacons and a direct line to Terra's reinforcements. That's why I'm not going to lie down and wait for you to kill me, like all those other shards you've captured, Constantin. You hate them. You see them and you kill them on sight. Sometimes, the best outcome is for them to escape your grasp, hide away, rot the rest of their lives in oblivion, and never be found again. Cause when you capture one, you torture every drop of life from them, and make sure they're just as dead as Him when you're done. How truly pathetic of you, Constantin.'
Nothing, not even a shift of his posture.
'But do you want to know why I'm here, captain-general? Do you truly want to know?'
'Yes.'
'I am your executioner, Constantin. You have simply lived too long. Your execution is tonight, even if mine is too. We'll die together, Constantin. Me, the shard you called your master the last time, and you, the servant. There will be no shards after me, and I suppose none before me either.' None that could have harmed him and unsettled him. 
Thunder lashed in the distance. The storm whipped at him, driving jagged spikes of lightning over his auramte-clad features. The Apollonian Spear, always activated, grumbled in the dark. Its ornate carvings were encrusted with old blood, the blade gleaming dully in the gloom. 
'You are going to watch your bodyguards die, my master. Their blood will be on your conscience.'
She snorted.
'I am not your master, Constantin. And conscience? You dare speak of conscience? Merely look at what you've become, and dare to utter the word conscience? Go on, preach to me of conscience and loyalty, traitor. It was not I who betrayed His throne.'
For a long moment, he said nothing. For a moment he seemed to nearly recoil, as if this encounter had suddenly gone too far from his plans. 
'Surrender, captain-general.' she insisted. 'Kneel, and you will be dragged to Terra in golden chains. Refuse, and your corpse will be dragged to the Emperor in rags.'
'You are a fool if you think I can know fear, Inquisitor.'
'This is not about fear. This is about surrender. You cannot make a stand here.' There was not a trace of desperation in her voice now, but a trace of anger. Lehievin shifts from beneath his cloak, guardian spear in hand. Ophiel and Ashavar's names were engraved upon his breastplate. Two new names, to remember them. He no longer was thinking about the deeds that had earned them, merely the Custodes that had been sacrificed. His brothers. They were his brothers, and Valdor cut them to pieces. 'This is arrogance, captain-general. Madness. You, alone? You cannot face us. You have no armies. No weapons. No defenses. No allies. You have nothing left but yourself, standing here now.' Serenely, almost as if to comfort him, she smiled. 'And that's not enough. Surrender. Surrender, simply, and I'll treat you well. I'll be the only shard that will.'
Because, in some deeper, ancient portion, He loathed him too. He loathed him back, and His shards had always felt this hate. The sense of shattered loyalty and vengeance against the traitor captain.
For a moment, just enough for Lehievin to draw in three breaths, Valdor seemed to listen. If not precisely even think of accepting her offer, then to at least resign himself. For a moment, he looked almost like the broken thing he was, yielding to treachery because he knew no way out. The mind of someone without even a right to dream, and now having no other way but to scream soundlessly for eternity, crying its tears out for someone that did not know how to weep.
Had Valdor wept when the Emperor died? She found, with no great surprise, that she did not care. 
'You will die braver than most, Inquisitor.' he finally said. The Apollonian Spear, already kindled, guttered to life. Its aura, now streaked with red instead of blue, crackled against the vengeful storm. 'You remind me of a High Lord, so long ago in the past. I suppose you do not remember. That is alright. But for life to move onwards, the secret does not lie in the future, but in the past. Humanity's future is dead, Inquisitor. It is as dead as my master, rotting upon His throne. His past, however, is alive. It is what drives your fickle race, it is what keeps them alive, sloughing along just for one more day. You are nothing but His dreams from the past, still imprinting themselves on the present. None of you shards have a future, and none of you will have a past.' 
She watches the Apollonian Spear swing with some kind of daze. He moves towards her then, not aggressively, but the display of power was still blatantly naked. Something was moving in the snow and the storm, something was roaring that was not thunder. It was something dragged out of the past and torn from its grave, mangled memories tearing through a life that could not remember it. It was the growling of an ancient, dying beast roused from its slumber, uncoordinated and savage and so mindlessly hateful that they would have followed this crazed captain like a prophet.
'We have no future, you and I. Which is why I am telling you this now, so you may heed it, one last time, before your endless life extinguishes itself again, my Emperor. Rejoice, my lord.' 
Lehievin could wait no longer. He gave the signal to strike, even as their charge seemed to be frozen, hypnotized before Valdor as he steadily advanced towards her. Three Aquilans closed in upon him from the side, their guardian spears gleaming as they rose like  vengeful revenants from the grave and threw off the disguise fields ripping around them, teleporters furiously blazing as reinforcing Custodes descended upon the traitor captain. Lehievin pushed himself, shrugging past his lieutenant, auramite sevroes grinding as he sprinted, already-superhuman capabilities strained to the limit as he charged. He had to reach her before he did. He had to reach her before Valdor did....
The Apollonian Spear was hefted into its killing position.
In the heart of the storm and its wrath, where the rock was as black as oil and the thunder as hateful as storms, red-tinged helmets blazed from bronze armor, and began to advance. 
Somewhere, in the distance, was an eerily familiar, ragged laugh.
'Rejoice, my dear Emperor, and gaze upon the corpses you've betrayed. You are present once more at their very first engagement.'
As Lehievin finally closed the distance, and his spear scraped against the spine-jarring thrust of Valdor's killing strike, the thunder descended to earth.
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