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shiny-jr · 5 months

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from POMEFIORE

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader.

- Characters: Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt, Epel Felmier.

- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.

- Note: Hoping its not too out of character.

Ignihyde | Pomefiore | Scarabia

Perfume. The carefully sealed envelope reeked of it, like the sweet smell of lavender with spice. The envelope containing the message looked like something you would find when getting an invitation to a ball or a wedding. The envelope was pristine, and the wax sealing it was done so perfectly without a single awkward edge.

It almost looked unnatural with how perfect it appeared. The thick beige parchment was cut evenly, and not a blot of ink strayed from the elegantly curved cursive words that looked like ribbons upon the page. Looks could be deceiving. It was beautiful, but as you might've already guessed, the interior didn't entirely match what was hidden beneath the surface.

To my darling player,

I am at fault and take full responsibility for my actions.

All I've ever wished for, was to admire you. You are the epitome of magnificence, divinity that I can only dream to one day achieve but knowing I will never truly reach. There's an otherworldly sort of allure to you, which drew me in far too close. Much like the man who enhanced himself with wings of wax, but flew too close to the sun so his wings melted and he met a terrible fate. You are the sun, and I was that reckless fool with fake wings.

I allowed myself to get too close, tainting your light with my imperfect presence. Your grace was the warm sunlight on my skin, when everything around me was a horrible darkness. To think, I attempted to put out that light. It was nearly diminished. For that, I should be burned. I'm sorry, so so sorry.

I've thought long and hard on what I could possibly say to you, what sort of response could be adequate enough considering what you mean to me and the delicate situation. It didn't take long for me to arrive to the answer: no response is fitting. It doesn't matter if I pen a letter long enough to rival the river of tears I shed, coat the envelope in gold and ink of silver, with a message that would have moved the seven themselves to weep. It does not change the betrayal that occurred. I betrayed the trust you gave me, and shattered it into millions of pieces. However, know that I'll be on my hands and knees piecing it back together again, even if the shards cause me to bleed, you are worth it.

The stabbing sensation on my skin would be nothing compared to the one in my heart that I feel when I consider the fact that you might despise me. There's nothing more I would want than to see your face, hold your hands and feel the warmth of your skin that's so unlike the coldness of your vessel. Requesting a meeting would be imperious, as I have no right to ask you of this. But if I could, I would love to see you and discuss what comes next, perhaps over lunch. This is just a thought, a wish of mine, but one you are not required to fulfill.

I'd love to believe that I know you and your vessel better than anyone else could even dream of understanding, but I know that is far from the truth. Even as I pampered and polished your precious doll, your secrets continue to escape me. Did you ever hear me, when I brushed and washed Yuu's hair? When I took their freezing cold hands and painted their nails? When kneeled down in front of them to polish their shoes? When I adorned the best luxuries of brand accessories on their body?

I would kneel down to no one else.

There was always this wish, a dream of mine, that one day I might perhaps one day get to pamper you. Not Yuu. But you. Is that a scandalous desire?

Your hands would be warm, and I would hold them as I file your nails. Your arm wouldn't be so rigid and mechanical, you could actually extend it as I slather a creamy scented lotion along your skin. And if you do desired, I could lift your head and apply lipstick to your lips... This is just the process I commonly used while your vessel was under my care.

Although, I would gladly take up the responsibility of nursing you back to health, or any other role you would give me. There are countless things I can accomplish for you. I commonly deal in potent poisons, but I can just as well deal in healing and comforting. I'm skilled in self-defense and various forms of magic, so I can be your companion to protect you from everything that would wish you harm. You know of my business in acting and singing, so even if you wanted nothing else I could be there to entertain or serenade you. I only wish to be with you again, even though I know I'm underserving. I'm selfish.

If you want nothing more, then I have to be satisfied knowing I was in your thoughts for a brief moment. A twisted part of me wants your mind to be plagued by thoughts of me, just as my mind and heart is full of you.

I have to remind myself, that by getting too close I risk being burnt. But, at this point, I do not care for my own safety. I only care for yours, and I do this to keep my sanity. I truly admire you so much, that I cannot adore you from afar behind a rope like sculpture in a museum. I have to stand nearby, inspect your beauty, polish you to a shine, and value you like the priceless treasure that you are. Should someone threaten to chip off even the slightest speck on you, forcing you through more suffering...

I will shatter them into a million pieces, to preserve your peace.

Yours,

Vil Schoenheit

The wonderful aromatic smell that filled your nose brought back some not so pleasant memories. The smell of the earth beneath your feet, the scent of dew collected on every still surface, but above all were fragrant tangs that immediately alerted you to any nearby presence of a student belonging to Pomefiore.

They had chased you through those deep dark woods, like a pack of rabid hounds tracking and hunting a poor wounded rabbit. Besides their shouts and footfall, their perfume gave them away. There was one in particular which you only caught a whiff of only when you had too closely encountered the dormleader. The scent of lavender and spice hit your nose, the same fragrance on the letter.

"That reeks! Burn it!" A certain feline hissed, covering his little black nose with his paws. You swore the fragrance was beginning to form a migraine at the front of your skull. If the smell was strong for you, it must've been much worse for Grim since he had a superior sense of smell.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, if the smell wasn't that strong and it wasn't the particular scent. Like vanilla or freshly baked bread. If that were the case, Grim might've insisted on keeping it or even be tempted to take a bite out of the sheet.

But it was lavender and spice. So the letter was tossed into a corner several feet away, left to an unknown fate that you would ultimately decide later. When you glanced back to Grim, you saw him holding and sniffing another letter.

For a long moment his sniffed the rolled up paper, his black nose twitching as he was likely just searching for another gift to claim as a snack. After a few seconds, he discarded it, sliding it over to you before he opted to dig through the pile like a raccoon digging into a heap of trash. "Meh, this one smells boring."

"Boring, huh?"

Boring wouldn't exactly be your choice of adjectives to describe this letter. It wasn't an envelope, it was a scroll tied by ribbon, attached to an arrow. An arrow, of all things, was likely the messenger for this message. Thankfully, this one didn't smell of anything. Even without a fragrance to match to a profile, the arrow was a dead giveaway.

Opening it up and using your hands to smooth out the curled edges, you blatantly ignored the wax seal over the ribbon. Once it was fully unsealed, a few single flower petals drifted down from the paper. Just another mess you would sweep up later and decide whether to dispose of it or not, like the first letter from the dormleader. For this one you were a pinch anxious. The sender was not like the others who came before.

Trickster,

It relieves me to see that you are finally safe.

To see you rest and heal in tranquility, nothing steadies my anxiously beating heart more than knowing you are sheltered. Well guarded by a trio of ghosts and the courageous feline Grim, I have no need to stress over your wellbeing with them acting as your valiant knights in shining armor! Although, I would also wish to join their ranks, blessed by your grace and fit to serve as your shield. However...

I am conscious enough to know that I am nowhere near fitting, no matter how much I may wish to reach out and shield you from every evil. In that most vital moment, I had failed to recognize you. I may have spared you from the sharpness of my blade, but I couldn't have guarded you from the suffering that was to come afterwards.

I'm so deeply and truly sorry. Many sleepless nights have followed, since and even before our first fateful encounter in those woods of the Pomefiore estate. Before our encounter, I was conflicted. I wanted to detest you, but I could not, I thought there must be a reason this was all occurring. I couldn't slumber peacefully, so long as I knew there was turbulence surrounding your beloved vessel. After our encounter, I couldn't get the vision of you fragile, frightened, and wounded, out of my mind. Raising a blade against you, who were a stranger shrouded in infamy, made my very heart stop.

Now I know why I was so unexplainably drawn to you. It was not due to the wild frenzy that overtook the entire campus, or a burning hatred to destroy, or even my own desire to discover answers I desperately wanted, although that last one may have played a role. The reason as to I was so enticed by you, a cunning 'imposter,' was because my heart recognized you. It must have been my very soul that pulled me towards you, and perhaps my own nature as well. My body recognized you, my heart and my soul led me to you, but I was blinded by my sorrows.

Throughout the few years I've had on this wonderful earth, I've seen countless peoples, and you are unlike any of which I've seen. In the places I've been, I have witnessed poetry be written by masters of literacy, melodies sung by the most angelic voices ever heard on a stage, and devoted worshippers in holy places kneel in solemn prayer. Somehow you as a single being, or entity, encompass all those elements into one. My aim is to admire beauty, and I see beauty in its finest form when I look at you.

I truly understand what you mean to me, and to others.

But at the same time, you remain a mystery. And I believe I'm speaking for all those who admire you when I say this. We could only dream of truly understanding you, when we only had Yuu.

So, I try to make sense of it all in what I do understand, in the beautiful things I adore that I associate with you who I cherish. In literature, music, photography, I see you in everything all at once. When I read poetic lines, I think I could share it with you. When I hear beautiful music, I imagine you might enjoy listening to the tune too. When I discover stunning sceneries, I plan to bring you there someday to share a moment with you.

Now, I can make sense of it. I understand how the poets of old felt as they penned the love and awe they felt towards the Fairest Queen. It's a rare sentiment that cannot easily be put into words, a feeling as if it held my delicate heart and squeezed when I so much as thought of you. When a song and its composer can bring an audience to tears, I understand that now too. Hearing your voice for the first time, formed a knot in my throat that prevented me from saying much. Catching that first glimpse of you, was like gazing at a perfect painted portrait hanging in a museum.

My dearest player, I am a Hunt. I am naturally inquisitive by nature, and my fondness for you comes just as naturally. You may consider it wrong, but I will continue to offer my loyalty even if you may not accept it.

My aim is to one day unlock your secrets, solve your mysteries, and understand you fully, learn what makes you tick and what drives you forward. Perhaps when the day comes when you've forgiven me for my crimes, I can proudly stand in your presence and recite the poems I have written in your name. I could admire you everyday from then on, and remind you everyday of your worth. Then, I will protect you, from all harm, and I will not allow myself to fail you once again. This is a promise.

Should you need me, I will be there.

Yours,

Rook Hunt

There was something that felt... off. Compared to some of the previous letters, these were rather tame. Of course, there was the desperation and fascination evident in their words captured by the ink, but it was nowhere near as extreme as other cases.

Although, it was still chilling, to read the thoughts they penned.

In your hand you held the arrow the letter had been connected to, feeling its thin shape and the sharpened head at its tip that nearly pricked your finger. The vice dormleader had excellent aim, and had he not been so kind, arrows like this one in your hand could've easily been driven through your flesh and caught you against a tree where you would've been helpless in their grasps.

And yet, despite the opportunities he had, he didn't let a single weapon touch you. All it would take was one arrow, one moment and he could've ended you where you stood. But he spared you. However, there's the lingering doubt that maybe the primary reason he did it was he hoped you had answers to the malfunctioning vessel. You couldn't be sure exactly why he spared you, when everyone had wanted to torment and imprison you or worse.

Beside you, there's a large crunch and a content purr. When you look over, there's Grim, happily munching away on an apple he held with his little paws. He sank his fangs into the fruit, content that he finally found an offering that appeased him. In front of him was a small basket, filled with more juicy red apples.

"These are great! And, even though I was the one who found them, I'll let you have some!" Grim picked up another apple from the basket, sticking his claws into the red peel and offering it with his little grin. Nevermind the fact that these were probably meant as a gift for you and not for him, but you didn't mind. They would have likely ended up in the trash anyways, at least someone could enjoy them.

"You should really have one. You haven't eaten all day."

"I'm not hungry, but thanks. You can have them." Ever since everything happened, you weren't too keen on accepting gifts, especially if they were consumable. For now, the only places you'd accept food from, was the cafeteria you'd venture too at the dead of night when no one was there, or Sam's shop.

In the spot of the basket where Grim had removed the apple, there was a white layer at the bottom of the basket. Perplexed, you reached in and found an envelope hidden by the piled apples.

Unsurprisingly, the envelope smelled of sweet things, apples, cinnamon, and freshly baked pies. The envelope itself was nothing special, it had no intricate wax seal or marking. It was loosely sealed shut by a brown piece of string, and covered in some white and pink apples blossoms.

The inside was less impressive, more authentic, which was refreshing in a way. Smooth cursive flowed into slightly choppy print scrawled out in uneven lines, before eventually returning back to cursive at the end of some sentences. It appears parts were rushed judging by the blotted ink stains at multiple periods. The apples were a clue as to who the sender may be, but why would the letter be hidden in a gift?

Dear Player,

If you're reading this, that means my letter got through.

Where do I even start? It seems right that I first say sorry. I'm sorry. It sounds like a load of bull, but I am sorry. Apologizing in all these other ways, won't make this any better, so, I thought this might help. I'm gonna be completely honest with you, no lies, no tricks, just the blunt truth. I'm not going to be showing you these pretty sides I polished to impress and to mask all the ugly. I'll tell you everything that's been going on. That's something only I have the guts to do.

The reason I hid this letter was because Vil and Rook have been checking anything I want to write to you. They want to keep up this positive front, they wanna at least pretend to be perfect enough to be near you. At least, that's what I think. Although I know we won't ever come close to that.

Instead of trying to write a real and honest letter for you, it feels like I was writing some essay for Professor Trein to grade. I'd have to write and write, and even if the grammar was right, the message wasn't. They want to make you think everything's okay, when it's not. I can only imagine what elegant crap they were spewing in their own fancy letters, while we're actually all a mess. We've been like this since Yuu broke down. I try to understand them, and in a way I do, but sometimes they freak me out. Yeah, I got my own problems trying to comprehend all this chaos, but they're different.

Is everyone else in the other dorms this extreme? This miserable and on the verge of breaking? Maybe you won't believe me, or maybe you'll realize that there's some truth to what I'm saying. Here, in Pomefiore, I can only tell you what I've seen. These days, Rook's smile seems strained, like he's about to snap, his eyes are sharp and watchful. The only time his smile is normal is when he's looking at some photo, but he won't ever let me see what it is. Vil, well, the only sign he's still alive and kicking are the packages that come in for him, new makeup and all that stuff, things he's using to craft that perfect mask. I did see him one night out in the hall, I swear there was mascara down his face but I was too put off to approach when he was like that.

Don't ever tell them I told you all this. Vil would probably skin me alive and wear me as a robe, and Rook... I don't want to think about what he would do... I'm kidding by the way, but seriously, don't ever tell them. I told you I would be honest to you, so here's my reason. I thought that maybe telling you all this would score me points with you, get you to trust me again. Even if this is a rotten way to go about it, I don't care.

I am rotten, and I won't hide it like them.

If I can't even be honest with you, then do I really deserve a second chance at all?

Scratch that. I don't deserve a second chance at all after everything that happened. What I did was downright terrible, but I'm trying my damnedest to be deserving again. And I won't stop trying, even if part of me thinks it's useless. I never cared for Yuu, the only reason I acted for them was because it was you behind them. My goal is to eventually be beside you, the real you.

Although, a basket of apples is a crummy way to go about things, but think of it like a peace offering. Just cause I can't get word to you, don't mean I give up. I'm not giving up. Ever. Everyone's going about their own roundabout ways of mending things. If you want to hear more, I'll gladly tell you. I don't think anyone else would tell you the truth of what's happening, because in a sense everyone wants to appeal to you with the best image of themselves they can possible portray. Don't believe all the hogwash they send you. If whoever sends something and seems to be stable, they're not. Not completely.

I'm awfully ashamed to admit it, but I'm not okay. Not since everything started, and not since everything went to hell when shit hit the fan. I'm not okay without you, and I got myself to blame for that.

This letter is helping. The thought of communicating with you again, even if I can't see your face or hear your voice and its reduced to words on paper, it's more than I could ask for. So, if you want me to spill the beans, just ask. If not, if there's no response, well, I'll get a bit of comfort thinking you might've read this. Besides, I have hope with each attempt I'll make. I'm not just rottenly selfish, I'm stubborn to a fault. And if I have to knock down someone else's chances to get closer, then that's fine by me.

All you gotta do is talk to me.

Until then, hoping to speak to you soon,

Epel Felmier

#twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #twst imposter au #i didn't ask to isekaied #we just got a letter wonder who it’s from #vil schoenheit #yandere vil schoenheit #twst vil #rook hunt #yandere rook hunt #twst rook #epel felmier #yandere epel felmier #twst epel #pomefiore

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malum-forev · 11 months

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jealousy, turning saints into the sea

Summary: After Bucky made you jealous with a new recruit, you decide he should get a taste of his own medicine.

Pairing: Bucky x Agent!reader

Part 1: jealousy, jealousy

“Your dark, angry, grr, Winter Soldier persona isn’t hitting as hard anymore.” Sam smiled as he sat down at the bar next to Bucky.

“Everything that’s happening is your fault.” Bucky hissed, not taking his eyes off of you. You were only a few feet away but the way you were actively ignoring him made Bucky feel thousands of miles away.

“Hey, you were the one who agreed.” Sam held his hands up defensively.

It started as a joke and Bucky never intended for it to become a big deal, or maybe subconsciously he did want it to become a problem. That’s the only explanation as to why he accepted his friend’s bet.

It all started when Sam suggested Bucky’s love language is possessiveness.

“I am not.” Bucky grumbled, forcing his eyes to concentrate on the man in front of him instead of you. You were finishing up a team meeting with some ex-SHIELD agents. But proving his point about not being overprotective was becoming more and more difficult. His enhanced hearing was playing a twisted game, making Bucky clench his fists as he heard the agents talk about how you looked in your tactical suit.

“So I assume you waiting for your girlfriend outside the conference room has nothing to do with the fact you want to metaphorically pee on her.” Sam’s smile only made Bucky’s scowl deepen.

Sam’s words combined with the agents depraved (but accurate) description of your looks were making Bucky’s tolerance level drop down to a zero. His heartbeat rose and he felt a cold sweat start to form. Is this what a panic attack feels like? He asked himself.

“The things I’d do to her, starting by bending her over the desk and-“ One of the agents said. That was it, he’d had enough.

Bucky slammed his open palm on the glass barrier separating him from you. The agents jumped in their seats as they saw the Winter Soldier all but break the wall.

“I’ll be done in a few minutes.” Your sweet voice calmed his racing heart, Bucky nodded with a tight-lipped smile.

Sam clutched his stomach as his booming laughter took over the hallway. “You couldn’t even wait for her to get out of the room! You are totally marking your territory.”

“I’m not a dog!” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Then what’s the problem? What’s making your cyborg brain crash?” Sam wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

Bucky ran his palm against his face and considered the pros and cons of telling Sam the truth. Pro: he would get it off his chest and it would probably make him feel better. Con: Sam would know.

“The problem is,” Bucky sighed, looking back at you. “She never gets jealous. It’s physically impossible for her to care, and it’s been driving me insane! I consider myself a good-looking guy, some women have even called me handsome! And she just carries on like it doesn’t matter. I feel like she doesn’t want me.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re telling me you want her to be jealous?”

“Maybe I do, sometimes.” Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “It’s just, I think about her morning, evening, and night so whenever I see someone who wants to swoop in and woo her- it makes me violent. But whenever some woman hits on me, she thinks it’s cute.”

“First of all, you need to get that checked. Go to therapy about it or something.” Sam’s reply made Bucky regret ever telling him. “And second of all, of course she gets jealous. She probably just doesn’t tell you.”

Bucky rolled his eyes again. “I’m telling you, it’s impossible to make her jealous.”

“Wanna bet?” Sam’s Cheshire smile should have been a big enough red flag.

So that’s where Bucky found himself, paying the debt for his stupid bet with Sam. He’d succeeded, Bucky made you jealous but at what cost. You’d invited the team out for drinks after a mission and dragged Bucky along just to see him wither.

You threw your head back with laughter and patted the agent’s chest with your hand.

“No one is that funny.” Bucky grumbled.

“Is this foreplay for you guys?” Sam wrinkled his face.

“Of course not,” Bucky drowned the whiskey in his cup. “she’s making me pay for the stupid thing with the recruit.”

“Glad to know my plan worked.” Sam nudged the brunet. “See, this is why you should start listening to me when we’re out on the field.”

“Yeah well your genius plan is biting me in the ass.”

The way the agent hungrily looked at you made Bucky’s jaw twitch. You were doing this on purpose, and he knew the only thing he could do was sit back and receive his punishment.

His eyes still sternly glued on you, your every move. Bucky watched as you brought your hand behind your neck and tossed your hair to one side; exposing the side of your neck, a place he knew you loved being kissed. Next, you brought your hand to twirl around the necklace, the long metal catching the agent’s eyes. The eyes that were now traveling to your cleavage. His hungry eyes darted around, trying to catch a glimpse at whatever he could.

Bucky knew that look, the look of someone trying to memorize everything their seeing so they can replicate it a few hours later when they’re alone in the shower.

But what sent him over the edge was the way the agent pulled you closer. He snaked his arm behind you, pulling your waist into him. Bucky couldn’t take it anymore, he saw red and was looking for blood.

Bucky slipped off his leather jacket but not before taking the silencer from the breast pocket.

“I don’t condone violence.” Sam warned.

“You fight, knock down and kill people with metal wings.” Bucky said with a harsh tone as he screwed the silencer onto the gun hidden in his back.

Sam placed one of his hands on Bucky’s chest and extended the other one. “Give it to me.”

“You ruin everything.” Bucky groaned, placing the gun in Sam’s hand.

“That’s more like it.” He smiled.

“You never said anything about not being able to use my God-given skills.” Bucky said as he pushed up the sleeves on his Henley.

“God didn’t give you that vibranium arm!” Sam yelled as Bucky pushed past everyone in the small bar.

Within a couple of seconds, Bucky had walked all the way over to the other side of the bar, pushed the agent up the wall and took his shirt in his left arm, the mechanical whir of the vibranium showed the agent just how strong he was. Bucky may no longer have the red star on his shoulder but it was tattooed in his soul, and he wasn’t above showing someone what that meant.

“You will never again speak to her, touch her, or look at her.” Bucky’s deep voice made the young agent’s eyes widen. “Is that clear?”

The man in his grip nodded furiously. Bucky brought him up a few feet from the floor only to drop him down. Slamming the agent’s body against the wood floors.

Bucky walked past the lump of bones on the floor. “SHEILD is making its agents weak.”

“You ready to go home, big guy?” You couldn’t contain your smile.

Bucky left some crumpled bills on the table and took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. “I’ve been dying for you to say that.”

————-

Author's Note: hi hiiii! I'm so glad you guys liked pt. 1! Sooo here's Bucky's version! Hope you guys like it! As always pls like, reblog and comment if you do! <3

And don’t forget to ask a prompt for my 1k bingo game! 💖

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour

*Any gifs posted are not my own and I give the artist full credit.

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alta1red · 3 months

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HAZBIN HOTEL . IMAGINE . II 'The Darling Artisan from the Clouds'.

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀 : [ NAME. ] Is exploring Pentagram City, and runs into a certain Radio Demon..

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 : [ NAME. ]'s luck might either be the worst, or the best no in-between . Alastor being a creep . OOC Alastor . Small amount of dialogue .

𝑷𝑻. : II.

— Well, congrats ! You somehow managed to avoid probably all the wrong kinds of people in Hell ( that being certainly 99% of its total population.. ) , was it due to sheer luck? Or by some stupid twist of fate something else awaits you in your path? Maybe, maybe not.

• As you wandered the streets of Hell and witnessed around One.. Hundred incidents of violence, abuse, prostitution, people getting mugged and drug dealing —You remained peaceful (?), ( you held your art matierials closer to your figure. ) although your inspiration did take abit of a dark turn in its source. Your cloak, and subtle presence helped you alot in hiding your angelic features .

• But your presence certainly didn't manage to slip by a certain .. Shadow Minion of a Radio Demon.

• 'It', 'He'? Observed you with careful precision, you certainly didn't think you'd be able to just waltz around in Hell unnoticed, did you? As you wandered mindlessly through Pentagram City blissfully and ignorantly prancing around as you gazed at horrid theatrics.

• How interesting ! Oh how 'His' smile got even wider ,

• As you accidentally bumped into people left and right in the Enertainment District, you always muttered small apologies —As if the reciever was even sober to hear it.

• Your manners were impeccable, how kind of you ! It's almost as if you don't belong here.

• 'He' knows you don't.

• You feel it, the feelings been gnawing at your back for awhile now.. Someone has been following you, and so that's why you were practically near a sprint as you ran through Districts, and Border zones —Fully debating on using your wings to get away from 'It' entirely, but weighing the pro's and con's were obviously needed before taking such a drastic option and life threatening decision.

• And since you didn't want to be hunted down, or even worse —Reported to the King of Hell, you took alleyways and random directions hoping to run away and have its sight's lose you. ( Dumb Decision. )

• Now DEAR. You didn't think you'd run away so easily now do you? After all, the site of an angel after the extermination was worrying ! How he wanted to try Angel Meat —However, he must introduce himself to you first !

• As you ran into another alleyway —" Shit! Dead end — "

• A dark murky shadow formed behind you, your instincts caused you to turn into fight or flight mode — Your halo glowed violently reacting potently from your panicked emotions,

— START OF MEMORY.

" No need to act so —violently, My Dear ! " The Demon's voice had a static filter —possibly done on purpose, he donned a transatlantic accent —He felt powerful, yes —but you've been enhancing your ability, even when Heaven was probably the most peaceful place in the entire universe, despite the fact Adam caused a ruckus every now and then —but he's already dead, so peaceful it was once more;

The Demon found your panicked expression comedic, hilarious, fun.

Like Prey facing Predator.

Could it be you felt fear? Panic? Whatever it was, it was certainly messing with your train of thought— you needed to rationalize yourself !

Talking a sharp breath and sucking it up, you then inquired — " I'm so sorry Sir, I was just rather startled .. " Your tone was geniune, yes —But your actions certainly told what you actually felt —Your hands quivered and beads of sweat started to form under the hood of your cloak.

" What a frightened Swan ! What's an Angel like you doing here ? " 'He' mused, relishing within your frightened presence. Your gaze turned cold as you felt your sweat turn freezing, your jaw slightly agape—

You looked at him before saying, " —

— END OF MEMORY.

• Your encounter with the Radio Demon was far from pleasant, but you wouldn't admit it. It's not nice to do so,

—FIN.

#hazbin hotel x reader #Hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin alastor #hazbin x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin #yandere alastor #alta1red #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin x you #hazbin x y/n

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akechiguro · 1 year

Note

Could you also do yandere headcanons for Ominis Gaunt? I loved it for Sebastian ♡

yandere ominis gaunt headcanons

headcanons / imagines

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Synopsis | a collection of headcanons for a yandere boyfriend, Ominis Gaunt.

Word Count | 622.

Content Warnings | mentions of intrusive thoughts, stalking

Author’s Note | sorry for the delay on these, anon!! i don’t have an excuse 😞 but i hope you enjoy nonetheless 🫶

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

✧. ┊ unlike sebastian’s primal jealousy, ominis’ comes in the form of domestic anger. he’ll be petty, with short responses and a firm refusal to talk about whatever’s bothering him if he sees you talking to another guy. he’s aware how toxic it is, but he feels there’s no words to describe his jealousy when he sees you with other people.

✧. ┊ ominis knows you need your space. he tries to respect it as much as he can, but his fear of losing you is so deep that he’s physically unable to be separated from you for more than an hour. if he doesn’t see you for any reason he worries, and is constantly needing confirmation you still like him and there’s nobody else. the years of trauma have done a number on his self-security.

✧. ┊ ordinarily, ominis is completely against the usage of dark magic. being forced to use the cruciatas curse and having it used on him completely changed his views on the magic. but if anyone were to present themselves as a threat, whether it be a physical one or a love interest who isn’t himself, he’s willing to use his apt for the dark arts to make sure nobody, nobody, comes between you and him.

✧. ┊ ominis would never hurt you. it’s almost as if he’s unable to even think about hurting you without upsetting himself. even when he’s ignoring you for speaking to someone who wasn’t himself, he feels extremely horrible about it, going as far as to beg on his knees if you desire such an apology. if he is being petty about your inner circle, he still makes sure to leave your favorite sweets from Honeydukes on your nightstand (with help from your owl if you’re not in the boys dorm), just to let you know he still cares.

✧. ┊ he’s ashamed of it, but he has stalked you before— or rather, he does. never outside of school, he wouldn’t be able to come up with a good enough reason to tell the Sallows, but he’s prone to it during the school year. nights are his most active hours, he’ll follow about 10 paces behind you just to make sure you’re getting where you need to go safely. he’s not proud of it, in fact he hates himself for resorting to such a creepy method, but he would hate to not be with you and have something happen.

✧. ┊ if you were to break up, ominis would appear as though he’s taking it well. he’d be respectful and understanding on the surface, but he would frequent the undercroft a lot more. sebastian swears he once heard anguished screams coming from it while passing by, but assumed he was hallucinating. another rumor going around says ominis has more than a couple scars from crucio. he wouldn’t be able to handle you not being with him anymore, not without some form of self-punishment.

✧. ┊ while he may give you a teasingly hard time, if you asked ominis to do your schoolwork for you, he would do it in a heartbeat. not just schoolwork, either; absolutely anything you need help with, he would do with the best of his abilities. there’s nothing he would say “no” to.

✧. ┊ losing anne and the scare of losing sebastian enhanced ominis’ already yandere-ish tendencies far beyond what he would let them be. more than a few dark thoughts cross his mind every time he sees you and you’re not by his side. he would never act on them, he wouldn’t forgive himself for, say, abducting you or doing something without your consent. but his intrusive thoughts are frequent and he doesn’t know how to deal with them.

✧. ┊ you’re his everything. he wouldn’t let himself live in peace if it weren’t for you. remember that.

#hogwarts legacy #harry potter #hogwarts #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy spoilers #hogwarts au #yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #ominis my beloved #ominis imagine #headcanons #ominis x reader #ominis x you

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herzgeist-writes · 6 months

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Draw Me Like One Of Your Grand Line Boys

A/N: My face is AGLOW - should I ramble on the part where he shows . . anatomy? I am . . tempted . . eep - Emi over and out

Art by me @lunar-3scap3 :3

„Darling, could you hold still for a moment?“

„Mhm? Wha- What are you- are you drawing me (Y/n)-ya?“

Sitting by side your Captain on a wooden bench, you partake in the joys of art - sketching everything you see and deem worthy to capture for practice.

Hence, seeing your doctor you love oh so dearly practically striking a pose, which screams for you to be kept in your notebook, your eyes quickly switch between Law and the paper in your hands.

The pencil dances over the white, leaving long strokes and lines of black and dark greyish shades behind. Nervous, the Surgeon utters:

„Did I give you the permission to do just that? I have enough wanted posters hanging around!“

„Oh hush, who said I‘ll be showing this to anyone?“

A mild blush spreads over your cheeks as you smile in fluster to yourself, drawing the good-looking man seated next to you.

Law groans in protest, jaw tensing up to your audacious yet adorable statement. As if contagious, red tint crawls over him as well, awfully irritating the white hatted one. The contrast between him and his accessory becoming much more evident to Trafalgar's mishap, assuming the heat on his face is more than noticable.

„Sweetheart, could you-“

With a hint of sarcasm lingering in his tone, he rolls your pet name off his tongue, teasingly yet lovingly. However, you interrupt him instantaneously, for his unwanted movements displease you without question.

„No! Don‘t move, I‘m almost finished!“

Soft sounds of led fluttering over paper has a somewhat calming effect on Law, given the fact he himself does it for hours on end, working through nights, taking notes to still his hunger for knowledge.

Through the corner of his eye, he watches how concentration marks your expression, tongue slightly sticking out and brows furrowed in complete fixation.

Law can't help but give off a small huff to that display, amused by the desirable woman sketching him with sheer determination.

A gentle touch to his cheek takes him aback, ripping him out of trance, as you trace your digits along his austere jaw line.

„You . . stop that! Are you done?“

„Oh yes.“

„Then why are you fondling me? It's unheard of!“

With your palm resting on his side, you lean in and gift him a small peck onto his now agape in surprise lips.

„Just wanted to check if I drew your handsome features correctly.“

Frozen, Law only musters to grunt at you in annoyance, though you can detect a tinge of mellow in his storm grey eyes. It tickles you everytime how stoic and profound he holds his demeanor, attempting to keep himself together, even before you.

Not dwelling on it too long, you proudly present your sketch:

„What do you think?“

His eyes widen, out of speechlessness he only manages to shake his head.

„Did you have to give my face a blush? I clearly wasn't!“

„Sure, whatever my flustered supernova says.“

You purr at Law sheepishly, opting him to debate about taking an unannounced leave or face you with an ever spreading glow in his try hard serious expression. He goes for the latter with an exasperated sigh:

„I'm not very apt in art, but I think it looks alright . . at least I can recognise that shady figure.“

Enhancing 'shady' with a dash of jest in his voice, a subtle smile enframes his mouth and a cozy feeling overcomes you by that sight. You backtalk with sass in your tone:

„Oi, be nice! It's just a quick sketch.“

Getting off from his seat, he towers before you and lets adoration guide his hand towards your chin, lifting it to meet your gaze:

„Just keep on practising and you'll be a wonderful artist in no time, (Y/n). Come on, lets get going.“

And now it's you who has to fight with the inner coil of heat, abashment written all over you, as you lean into his touch. What a needy woman you are, Law thinks to himself, enjoying how easily he can turn the tables on you. To top it all off, he adds:

„Oh and if you need a refrence for anatomy studies, feel free to ask me, I'll gladly show you how male bodies function.“

That dirty little-

#one piece #one piece law #trafalgar one piece #fanfiction #fanfic fluff #x reader #law x female reader #law x fem!reader #law x y/n #emi's random ramblings #motivational #Sometimes we need to write our own motivational stories

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blueskittlesart · 9 months

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how would you pull off a dark zelda game? or do you believe zelda should always be colorful and bright? i often think about the botw concept art for “organic” guardians, i wonder what the game would have been like if they had gone with those, imo they were cool :)

I do think that zelda games should always be bright, and i don't think that dark themes should be exclusive to aesthetically "dark" games! there are multiple games in the zelda franchise ALREADY which tackle dark themes and subject matter without sacrificing their aesthetic, notably mm & oot, two of the most widely beloved games in the franchise. in my opinion any take on zelda which removes the bright and colorful aesthetic ceases to read visually as a zelda game. these are games which owe their start to the NES, a console which displayed 56 colors total. the foundational games of the series were characterized by their brightly-colored graphics and the creative use of the colors available on their consoles to bring the world to life. any game that attempts to become aesthetically darker by decreasing saturation across the board or making black/gray a central color element is going to lose the colorful art direction that unites most of the rest of the games, making it feel out of place aesthetically and immediately losing some of the brand recognition that the zelda franchise has.

I think it's also worth noting that loz's physical game mechanics are often reliant on the player being able to easily see approaching enemies and terrain--being real-time combat and dungeon-based, the gameplay relies heavily on the assumption that the player will be able to understand and interpret the onscreen visuals quickly and easily. bright and colorful graphics lend themselves to this kind of gameplay, but if you deliberately darken the game overall or decrease saturation across the board, you're making it more difficult for the player to see and react to the terrain and enemies that are coming at them. for a real-time-combat dungeon rpg, I generally think that's a bad move. (that's not to say that dark graphics can never be successful, but it takes a LOT more effort to make dark graphics easily readable at a glance, so they're generally easier to pull of in games which don't require quick reactions like turn-based rpgs or visual novels, or in games that use that decrease in reaction time as a mechanic or storytelling method, like horror games. loz's niche specifically just doesn't really work with darker aesthetics.)

all that being said, i'm in no way opposed to darker SUBJECT MATTER being depicted in loz games, and in fact my top 3 zelda games (oot, botw, and mm) are all GREAT examples imo of successfully tackling darker subject matter while maintaining the bright, colorful aesthetic that characterizes loz. these games talk about war, trauma, death, agency, etc etc. in incredibly real, thoughtful, impactful ways while still being bright and saturated and full of color and life, and I'd even say the art direction LENDS to the themes rather than detracting from them. if done thoughtfully and intentionally, bright and colorful art direction can compliment and enhance a darker storyline, and loz already has a rich history of stories that do that perfectly. I think if future games want to lean into darker themes it's still important that they keep the bright and colorful art direction and work WITH it instead of against it.

#asks #somehow managed to get through this entire ask without mentioning you know what. you have no idea how hard that was

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scaly-freaks · 23 days

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cherry wine stains 7.0

all previous parts in pinned.

Alcoholism.

It's a heavy word, meaty, sticks like mango fibers between the teeth. By the time someone suggests it might be relevant to you, you're already a lost soul, wandering in a forest where the trees are broken liquor bottles, each label fancier than the next. Did you hear about so-and-so? Yeah, I hear they're an alcoholic now.

A stamp of disconfirmation on your validity as a well-functioning human being. There is no such thing as a functioning alcoholic. It's a bandage term, to disguise the inevitable slip-and-kick of the stool.

But Amara thinks she's functioning perfectly well.

It started with a glass of wine after dinner, as most things do. She hated the bitter taste as a teenager. Her tastebuds are still puerile, but the fuzziness she couldn't appreciate when she was younger is well-cherished now. Adults are more patient; they can get through the nasty bits for the soft, cushy marrow underneath.

If only she hadn't developed a hobby of painting the bottles once she was done with them.

Now the evidence is all over her home. It's like a serial killer removing the bones of her victims and painting them to hang as wind chimes (like that one episode of Criminal Minds that she kind of sort of remembers watching when she was too drunk to move).

At first she tells herself it's to cope with Rafael's threat. But when two months pass by and nothing happens, she can't say that it is. Besides, he was found in the river last week, chock fill of heroin that hadn't yet left his system. Amara knows for a fact he never touched drugs, not once he began to deal them.

It must have been Aegon.

She wonders when he graduated to murder, and if that means he sees people differently now. Knowing how easy it is to kill another person must transform the psyche irrevocably. She also wonders who told him Rafael was making threats towards her because it certainly wasn't Amara herself. Or if that was even the reason Rafael had died.

She'd gone home the night she saw Aegon at the club and drank until she couldn't see straight. Elizabeth and Gwen returned later to put her to bed, thinking she had simply had too much fun at the club and then somehow, rather responsibly, gotten herself home in a taxi.

Two months since that night.

She's learned to live happily in her forest of painted glass bottles and the day job she took on in between performances because nothing pays the bills these days except for crime. But she doesn't have the stomach for that.

It's how Aegon finds her.

An insistent bell press should have warned her who is on the other side. He's had the same way of assaulting doorbells since he was a child.

Her surprise at seeing him is dampened by the way he recoils at the stench of alcohol.

Shame washes over her, like the tide regurgitating garbage onto the beach. She doesn't look great either. Hair unwashed, dark circles, body doused in fabric that neither flatters nor enhances. Some days, she's swear she's put on weight. Others, her skin feels glued to her bones with nothing in between. She can't tell what she weighs anymore; her eyes skim over the reflection in every mirror she passes as if staring directly into it will bring a monster to her door.

But it hasn't. It's brought Aegon.

He snaps into action the way only an older brother can. With three younger siblings, he's never lived in any other state.

When she argues, he snaps at her, and they have a screaming match unprompted. It's as if no time has elapsed. Just last night, they were together, and now they're fighting again. She says something about it's my life blah-blah-blah and i'm fine and he tells her to shut up and take a fucking shower. That works better than kind words could have, because she goes upstairs just to get away from him.

And then once the shower is done, she realises she feels better, which of course annoys her all over again. But all the shouting has worn her out. She doesn't have the energy for more.

She stays up in her room - which is surprisingly neat - and hears him walking around downstairs tidying up. Elizabeth and Gwen haven't been home in a couple weeks, so it's been Amara alone, turning the place into a badger's den.

It isn't till she hears the clink of the glass bottles that she runs down in a panic. "Don't throw those away. I painted them."

"And I can paint a dope syringe and call it art," is his acrid response. "You've collected them like fucking trophies."

The brutality of his hand gathering them up leaves her feeling as substantial as a piece of crumpled paper teetering on the edge of a windy balcony.

She drops herself on the bottom step to watch as Aegon clears away months of her hard work. My liver struggled through all that for nothing.

He drops off the garbage bags by the bins and when he returns, Amara has her head between her knees. She is going through a list of things he might have wanted to tell her in person.

I'm leaving the country.

I'm going to jail.

I'm engaged.

I'm going to be a father.

She'll never know how she manages to force the words out. "Why are you here?"

Aegon stares at her with a hooded expression that either means run or are you fucking stupid? Neither makes her feel very good.

She wonders why he's being such a prick. Or if maybe he was a prick all along, and she just chose to ignore it because he was less of a prick to her than he was to everyone else. And don't we all just love to feel special to pricks like that?

"Why? Do you want me to leave?"

"If you're going to keep throwing away my stuff, yes."

"That wasn't stuff. You're an alcoholic and you're wearing it like a badge of honour. And don't you dare tell me you can do what you want."

"I wasn't going to."

"Yes you were."

She was.

"Still. Something brought you here. Or someone."

"You've been ignoring my calls for weeks."

Amara frowns. "No, I haven't. You never called."

He holds out his hand for her phone, and she doesn't think twice before handing it over. Most people would. Phones are such intimate objects. Giving them to someone unlocked is the animal equivalent of rolling over to expose your belly.

"Why do you have my number blocked?" he asks.

"I don't have your - that's not your number."

"It's my new number."

"...oh." Comprehension sinks in. "I was getting a lot of cold calls around that time. I started blocking numbers I didn't know. You probably should have texted first."

Aegon flares his eyes as if to say yeah, no shit. Maybe that would explain the negativity straight out of the door. She wasn't feeling too happy that he'd ghosted her, but he was going through the same thing. Knowing about Sara meant she hadn't bothered to follow up and ask why she was no longer on his contact list.

He comes to sit on the stairs, a couple steps beneath her, and they stew in the silence. The atmosphere feels loaded, like a gun about to go off. Or maybe that's all in her head. Aegon has both his hands shoved into his pockets, one leg carelessly tossed over the other as his eyes fill with light from the window.

"I'm sorry for the mess."

He snorts. "You call this a mess?"

"It kind of is." She bites a hangnail and looks around. "I think I like letting myself go just to see how bad it can get."

Aegon chuckles. "And this is your worst, is it?"

"I'd say so."

"Spoken like a ballerina."

"You don't think this is bad?"

"I think you're a functioning alcoholic who would have tidied up eventually and pretended nothing was wrong."

"There's no such thing as a functioning alcoholic. I looked it up."

"Newsflash: if you're looking it up, you are it, angel."

Her stomach does several somersaults at the familiar pet name. He doesn't seem to realise - or care - that he said it. Perhaps it's always been ordinary to him that Amara is something as hyperbolic as an angel. It's something he's never questioned. That both flatters and worries her, because the only way to go from high up in the heavens is down, down, down.

"Functioning alcoholic and an only child. Would explain the refusal to ask for help in order to fester," he continues.

"People with siblings fester too, you know."

"The ones with crappy siblings, yeah. You could have called Helaena. She clearly seems to think you two are closer than you do."

"That's not true. She's one of my oldest friends."

"Oldest doesn't mean closest. Do you want me to tell her how I found you?"

"No."

"Then you're not close."

"If you came here to lecture me, I'd rather you left."

"Unblock my number. Then, I'll leave."

She snatches up her phone and does exactly that, but before she can show it to him, Aegon grabs her wrist and forces the action himself. In the process, he pulls her nearer, and her damp hair falls over him like a scented curtain. She sees him visibly inhale, coupled with a slight tremor in his jaw.

Their eyes meet and she thinks of Rafael floating in that river.

Aegon's hands feel the same as they used to, not at all like they've killed someone.

But the soft blue edge to his eyes is gone. He has less patience. And now her wrist is caught in his hand, and he is staring at her like he wants to tear into the soft skin of her neck. Or she's imagining it all. Living inside a mind you don't trust is a hell all on its own.

"Next time I call you, pick up," he tells her.

Danger licks at the words like the flame of a lighter.

She's not imagining it.

Once he's gone, she lies back on the stairs, waiting for the fear to kick in.

Her childhood crush is gone, and in his place is someone that has learned to carve his place in the world with violence.

But the fear doesn't come. There is nothing of the sort.

Instead, it feels like a chain has wrapped itself around her neck and Aegon holds the other end.

She can't remember the last time she felt so secure.

#aegon ii targaryen #modern aegon #aegon ii x oc #aegon x oc #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii fic #aegon x amara #scalyfreakswrites #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen #cherry wine stains part seven

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smartycvnt · 11 months

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Vena, Not Venus

Title: Vena, Not Venus Pairing: Rowena Macleod x Reader Summary: Y/n's magic lesson with Rowena goes a bit awry. Minors DNI, 18+ Warnings: smut, bottom Rowena, top reader, vaginal fingering NR WC: 1297

The air was thick with incense smoke as Y/n and Rowena sat across from each other. Aside from the candles lit around their bodies, the room was completely engulfed in darkness. Y/n kept her eyes closed as she muttered the words that Rowena had given her over and over again. Rowena held onto Y/n's hands to allow for their magic to flow through each other. The spell that Y/n was trying to learn was a simple one, the easiest of the old magic that Rowena could think to teach her pupil. Y/n had excelled in Rowena's lessons on the more modern kind of magic, but the had hit a wall when it came to learning the older stuff. There had been a less clear line of good and evil back then, and for something to have been marked as evil, it had to have been some serious stuff. Real life for life and blood for blood business.

"I would hate to interrupt your very obvious flow of things, but what exactly have you been saying all this time?" Rowena asked as she opened up one eye to check on her surroundings. The flames of the candles were supposed to be burning a deep, dark red, but instead they had a pinkish glow to them. Rowena had thought that she had misread Y/n speaking earlier, but as she looked around the room and assessed her own feelings, she knew that she had heard Y/n correctly.

"Venus-," Y/n started, only to immediately be cut off by Rowena.

"Vena, not Venus. You've been offering up your body to Venus, not opening your blood to let the magic through. This has turned into an entirely different kind of ritual my dear." Rowena tried to keep her voice even to avoid insiting panic in Y/n, but instead her words came out shaking in between ragged breaths.

"Wh-what kind of ritual have we been doing?" Y/n asked as she shifted onto her knees. Rowena watched as the robe Y/n was wearing dipped down to reveal the now flushed skin on her chest. Y/n was attractive, and Rowena had never been one to dismiss that fact or deny it, but she had done a good job of not reminding herself of it at inopportune times like this one. Ignoring what her body wanted wasn't a choice that Rowena knew she had. The spell was enhancing the feelings for Y/n that were already there, and if Rowena was being honest, it was startling how good Y/n was at this particular spell.

"Let's just say that if all else fails, you've got a monopoly on being a Priestess of Venus. I'm not sure how in demand they are, but I'll put out a good word for you," Rowena joked. The usual punch of it was gone though, and Y/n finally noticed the state that Rowena was in. Rowena could feel the entire energy of the room shift as Y/n's brain finally caught up with everything that was going on around them. The light pink of the candle flame began to darken as Y/n sat up straighter. Rowena felt herself cower and bow a little, something that she never would have done in anybody else's presence.

"What do we do to finish the ritual?" Y/n asked. Rowena could tell by the apprehensive way she asked the question that Y/n knew the answer. A part of Rowena wanted to tell her that it would be fine if they left without completing, the spell, but she honestly had no idea if that was true. She hadn't ever attempted a ritual of this sort before, but knew that one way or another, all rituals demanded their completion once they had begun.

"It's a bit, erm, awkward. I could take care of this myself technically, but it might go by faster if you do it," Rowena said. Y/n brushed off the offer, and moved forward slightly.

"Just tell me what you need me to do," Y/n told her. Rowena gently grabbed Y/n's chin as she pulled Y/n closer. Rowena had been alive long enough to try nearly everything once, but she could tell Y/n would be different. This wouldn't be like any of the other moments of intimacy that Rowena had shared with other witches, and not just because of the magical edge that Y/n brought. Rowena felt something for her, something that ran much deeper than she had even realized.

"I want you to touch me. Help me get through this," Rowena muttered just before she pressed her lips to Y/n's. Y/n tried but failed to match the same feverish energy that Rowena was bringing. A part of her felt ashamed, but Y/n knew that Rowena wouldn't blame her. Y/n could feel teh magical effects of the ritual, but it wasn't affecting her in the same way that it was Rowena. Still, Y/n swore that she could feel the small touches that she was giving to Rowena on her own body.

Y/n pressed on as she pulled Rowena onto her lap. Rowena ground her hips against Y/n's torso, and that was when Y/n knew that something was going on. The sounds that Rowena was making were definitely more than enough to have an effect on Y/n, but they weren't quite enough for a physical sensation like what the younger witch was feeling. Rowena seemed hesitant to rush things, but Y/n could tell that Rowena couldn't help it. The woman grabbed Y/n's hand and guided it down her body, just barely pausing to allow for Y/n to feel her body heat before letting Y/n's hand move underneath the robe.

"I can feel it inside of me," Y/n said as Rowena sank onto her fingers.

"I'll explain later, at a better time. For now, don't worry about it and fuck me," Rowena said, her voice on the edge of pleading. It was much more desperate than Rowena liked to be around anybody. She had half a mind to kill Y/n when this was all finished, but admittedly, Rowena had fallen a little too far for the other woman. However, she would only ever verbally admit to being mostly fond to Y/n's presence for the sake of having another powerful witch nearby.

"Hey, focus on me," Y/n muttered as she used her other hand to turn Rowena's face towards her. Rowena surged forward to kiss Y/n as she moved her hips back and forth to ride Y/n's fingers. It was so different from being with a man or even touching herself that Rowena's head was spinning. Being with Y/n was unlike anything that Rowena had experienced before. Even within the coven, none of the other witches had the same skill and prowess that Y/n did. Sex was different now, much more of a spectacle in the modern world than it had been before, but Rowena was certain that Y/n was on another level by any time period's standards. Rowena's body curled into itself towards Y/n as she came. Y/n carefully placed her hand on Rowena's back as she held the shaking woman in her lap.

"For the sake of your training, I'm not sure how many more times this can happen." Rowena's voice was shaky at best as she tried to suck in as much air as possible. Y/n didn't blame her as the same feelings washed through her at a lesser intensity. She wasn't quite sure what had happened, but it definitely felt as if some sort of spell had overcome her.

#rowena macleod x reader #rowena macleod #supernatural #supernatural x reader #my writing

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 2 years

Text

Love Song for a Vampire Pt.3

Pairing(s): Edward Cullen x Wolf!Reader, Edward Cullen x Bella Swan, Jacob Black x Bella Swan, Embry Call x Wolf! Reader

Warnings: angst, thoughts of suicide, desperation, edward keeping secrets from bella, alice visions

Words: 2047

Summary: Already aware that this connection would never bring anything to fruition, you’re willing to do anything to cut the ties of fate that bind you to Edward

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39

“I’m sorry Edward, but you know I can’t see the future when it comes to the shape-shifters. . .” Alice sighs. Of course she would have loved to help her brother in his dilemma. Offer him any help that she could. She had learned last year though that when the wolves were involved she got a major headache, something completely uncalled for when it came to vampires.

Helpless, golden eyes look up at her; permanent dark circles under his eyes seem to enhance how he was feeling. With a sigh of his own Edward’s eyes shift away from her. “No, it’s okay Alice. I understand.”

“I really think you should talk this over with Bella tonight though.” She pushes once again. “Whatever happens in the future, she needs to know.”

Edward couldn’t imagine how Bella would react. Would she be jealous? He’d have to assure her that he felt nothing for (y/n), but even he knew that that wouldn’t change the fact that the young shape-shifter had imprinted on him. Even Bella knew the immense seriousness of imprinting.

Jacob was probably ecstatic about the fact.

Clenching his jaw Edward nods. “I know. I just have to pick the right time to tell her. Right now she’s worried sick about what Victoria has planned. I don’t want her stressing out about this.” He would also make a mental note of not having Bella go to La Push for a while. With this information out, Jacob might grow even more bold with his affections toward Bella. Edward had no real claim to her now in Jacob’s eyes. A wolf imprinting might as well have been marriage. No one in the pack would consider their relationship serious now. In their eyes, Edward was (y/n)’s. He acknowledged that this must be tough for (y/n), but it was also making life difficult for Edward too. His future had never been so uncertain before. Bella had been the last major surprise in his life.

In a comforting manner, Alice rubs his shoulder. She hated seeing her brother so torn but knew it was no one’s fault. This wasn’t a situation where he could fight against it. Fate and destiny was uncharted territory for them. “Things will turn out alright, I’m sure of it. Once Victoria is dealt with then we can face this situation head on. Figure something out.”

“This can’t be right. There must be something I can do to change this.” Pleading with determination, you knew the elders probably saw you as a pitiful little girl. Who else would know of something like this though? The elders of La Push were your best bet. Surely they knew something with their wisdom of Quileute history.

Edward nods. For now he would just have to focus on the threat ahead. There was nothing he could do at the moment about (y/n). Eventually though something had to be done if he still wanted to be with Bella.

Even though Harry Clearwater had passed away the previous year, the tribal elders still held meetings in his home whenever they were called upon. A now widowed Sue Clearwater didn’t mind at all and knowing of your situation from her children, wanted to help you in any way possible.

They all sat in plastic chairs, outside in the Clearwater’s backyard, listening to you patiently. Among them was Billy Black in his wheelchair appearing perturbed about the situation that you were in. Old, withered faces were showing signs of how grave your situation was and it gave you no hope.

After being depressed about the situation you had found yourself in you decided to pick yourself up and fight against it. This proved to be a losing battle though. No one had fought against who they had imprinted on.

Eryld Ren held a gravity about him as he looked to his companions. Glen Wright is the only one to meet his gaze but even then it was for a quick minute. Both men knew that what you asked from them was unheard of. Everyone was silent as your plea was held in the air.

“Surely. . .” Whisper lingering on your lips, your heart plummets. “There has to be some way. . . It just CAN’T be possible. Werewolves and vampires have completely different genetics. If what Sam says is true and that imprinting is a way for us to produce stronger offspring, it’s impossible for me to be compatible with a vampire.

“Imprinting has never been wrong.” Eryld sighed, knowing you had probably heard that a thousand times from Sam who was also in attendance.

“She’s right though.” Glen protests. “Something must be wrong. Never in history has this ever happened.”

Sad, gentle eyes turn to you as Billy speaks up “Imprinting, as far as any of us know, is a permanent thing (y/n). Even as curious a case as this is, there is no changing it.”

You refused to accept that as an answer. Tongue running over your bottom lip, you try again. “There has to be some ancient magic. . . C’mon, we live in a world where werewolves and vampires exist! This can’t be it for me! What about wolves whose chosen mates have completely rejected them? What do they do?”

“They’ve always died from a broken heart or killed themselves.” Glen admits.

Shaking your head you stare at your clenched fists. “I don’t want that as my future. If you’re saying that’s the only way out for me then I refuse. One way or another I will not have Edward Cullen as my mate.”

“None of us want that for you either, but it’s simply never been done. Detaching yourself from who fate has chosen for you. . .” Billy shudders, shadows flickering across his face. “We all know this is the worst possible outcome for you. But there is simply nothing anyone can do about it. Not even magic.”

That was what everyone kept telling you. Nothing could be done about it. Edward was your chosen one.

When all hope seemed lost for you, Sue opened the screen door. “There might be someone who can help. . .”

Hopeful eyes beam at Sue as others turn skeptical to her. For being an older woman, Sue still held immense beauty. When you got to her age you hoped you looked as good as she did.

Timidly she steps out and enters the half circle with you. “I had half a mind to call upon her when Harry had his heart attack. . .” At this she almost sounded ashamed. “They say she can work magic. Heal people for a price.”

Eryld seemed to sit up straighter in his chair.“What are you talking about Sue?”

“In Latin American culture there are these people. . . People who practice witchcraft.” Immediately there was a collective inhale. Vampires were one thing; witches? Another. All you could think of was the movie the Blair Witch Project and how you had been scared witless.

“Sue, such things like them are immoral.” Glen slowly reminds her.

“Not all of them.” She argues before turning back to you. “There’s one that lives a little outside of Port Angeles. If you’re really desperate then it won’t hurt to try her.”

“I’m willing to try anything at this point.” (e/c) eyes full of fervor you glance at the tribal elders. Eryld simply shakes his head. “You can’t trust those who deal in witchcraft. They will trick you into thinking they’re good.”

Sam finally spoke up, in full support of you. “We can’t let her stay the way she is though. If her life continues like this. . . we don’t want to lose her to something that can be changed.”

“It’s worth a shot.” Murmuring more so to yourself, your mind is already set on what you were going to do next. “I want to give it a try.”

Everyone looked at you with apprehension. Never had they dealt with other supernatural forces. In many Native American cultures, medicine people were well known, but witches were always a different aspect.

You would try anything though.

“I hate to ask you this but. . .”

Sam shakes his head. “It is part of my duty as alpha to help out the members of my pack. The earliest I can drive you is tomorrow around 12. Is that okay?”

Nodding you find yourself growing hopeful once more. Even if the elders disagreed on the actions you were taking, you were happy to know that at least Sam was there to support you.

The small city of Sequim fooled you into forgetting about the dangerous person you were about to meet. A lush place with beautiful fields brimming with lavender flowers that made your head wonderfully dizzy.

Even though it was a beautiful place, you and Sam were still on edge. From the way your alpha held himself you knew he was extremely wary.

You clutched the piece of paper that Sue had given you, the address of the witch etched in pencil.

Heart freaking out like crazy you try everything to slow it down to it’s regular pace.

“You ready for this?”

“I don’t really have any other options.” Eyes focused outside of the window you knew your car ride was drawing to a close.

“I’ll be there with you. Don’t worry.” Sam assured you and for a moment it did ease your anxiety. Until you came upon her house.

The GPS instructed Sam to take a turn into a densely wooded area where the path was incredibly rough, making you bob up and down in your seat. Your surroundings grew darker as the trees engulfed you, blocking out any natural light that the sun offered above. The hairs on the back of your neck pricked up.

There was an evident bad vibe in the air as the path narrowed until it led up to an otherwise lovely looking house. It didn’t match the surroundings at all. A bountiful garden encircled the house and you wondered how some of the plants were able to get any sun from the tops of the trees forbidding any rays from shining down.

Sam turns off his truck, staring out the front window for a moment; possibly contemplating what would happen once he steps out of the car. He was a big man, bigger than any of the other men in the pack. You should’ve felt safe with him. You were scared though.

What if Sam couldn’t protect you? What if you weren’t able to protect yourself?

Before either of you unbuckle your seat belts you shoot a glance at one another. “Well, let’s do it.”

A sharp pain nailed itself into Alice’s skull. She immediately grabs at her head, breathing heavily until the pain was enough to make her close her eyes. Her head was vibrating, shaking and distorting sounds. She hears a cry in the dark along with the tangent smell of blood. Wolf teeth flash in her vision, snarling and trying to take down whatever entity was there. Talons that belonged to a large bird tear open human flesh. Another cry.

You gathered up your courage, reminding yourself that you were a shape-shifter, a wolf. Wolves were not scared of anything.

Amid the black, Alice peeks through the fog to find the face of a terrified girl.

(y/n).

She was in trouble.

Alice trembled from the force of the vision, finally forcing her eyes to snap open to find her classmates staring at her in the cafeteria. Bella is next to her, hands placed on the vampire’s shaking shoulders.

Edward is already up on his face. “She’s in trouble.”

“T-Terrible trouble. . .” Alice manages to pant out.

“Who Alice?” Bella tries to pry what Edward had seen in the vision. Something so bad that Alice was slouched over in her chair. Never had Bella seen her like that. She had been around Alice when she was having visions of the future, but nothing like this. She was in intense pain. A pain that vampires weren’t accustomed to having.

The look in Alice’s eyes scares Bella. Fearful, golden eyes stare up at her. “(y/n).”

(y/n), she was one of the shape-shifters. Why was she in trouble?

Questions lingered on Bella’s tongue but her boyfriend was already storming out of the cafeteria door. There was no time for questions.

#twilight #twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #twilight fanfic #edward cullen #edward cullen fanfiction #edward cullen fanfic #edward cullen x reader #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction

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xhanisai · 1 year

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untitled

AO3

Pairing - Adrinette (post reveal, in relationship)

Prompt - ‘Makeup’

Summary -

Adrien was the literal definition of pure excitement and absolute joy. These feelings simply grew by ten-folds from the start after everyone was assigned their roles for the exciting school play in their year group, the boy was ecstatic to be a part of something so wonderful, something that he's always dreamed of experiencing back when he was still locked up in his gilded cage.

Though one would think that his designated role was rather mundane and unexpected, especially since he was an international celebrity and known pretty much by everyone. But that didn't phase Adrien one bit. No, in fact, it made him even happier!

He was part of the makeup squad.

And who was amongst the people that were getting their makeup done by him?

Marinette!

~(x)~ . . . Adrien was the literal definition of pure excitement and absolute joy. These feelings simply grew by ten-folds from the start after everyone was assigned their roles for the exciting school play in their year group, the boy was ecstatic to be a part of something so wonderful, something that he's always dreamed of experiencing back when he was still locked up in his gilded cage. . Though one would think that his designated role was rather mundane and unexpected, especially since he was an international celebrity and known pretty much by everyone. But that didn't phase Adrien one bit. No, in fact, it made him even happier! He was part of the makeup squad. And who was amongst the people that were getting their makeup done by him? Marinette! The amazing, wonderful Marinette Dupain-Cheng! They were going to be in super close proximity, he's going to get to powder her soft sweet skin, line her gorgeous baby-blue eyes and even paint her pretty, kissable lips! Adrien just couldn't wait to work with the love of his life, his one and only Lady and judging by the way she beautifully smiled at him when he turned around on the desk to face her in class after the announcement, she was just as thrilled about it too. Oh, how he couldn't wait at all! ~(x)~ "You're having so much fun with this, Chaton," Marinette mockingly stuck out her tongue at him, earning a playfully warning "Hey!" from her partner who then earned a playful poke to the nose, making him scrunch it adorably. The two were finally alone in the classroom, a place that was once bustling with at least thirty chattering students or more all at once, getting ready for their rehearsals and getting their makeup done by the team. It was now peaceful and quite serene, the winter sun already setting, painting the entire room in a beautiful golden hue. Adrien couldn't help but admire how his love looked under the sun's rays. The light changed her sky-blue eyes into an almost transparent grey, making her seem quite ethereal, especially with all the makeup he carefully applied on her with great precision and skill. His hard work enhanced her perfect features so well, it was as if she was a dream. What were once rosy, dewy lips were now painted in a deep red, glossy colour, complimenting her bow-shaped mouth and her slightly rouged cheeks. Her milky skin sparkled like the glittering stars in the galaxy, thanks to the highlighter he applied delicately along her cheekbones and around her large eyes. Said eyes were lightly lined with a soft, dark brown shadow which complimented the shades of plum blossom and sakura that danced around them, allowing the colour of her irises to shine through naturally. As if they were bluebells that were blooming on the ground, surrounded by the baby pink petals of the fallen blossoms. She was perfect. Just so perfect. Mon Dieu, he loves her so much. "Adrien? What's wrong? Oh my! Did you end up making a mistake because I kept moving around again!? I'm so sorry-" She was halted midway by the searing press of his lips against hers, making her melt immediately on the spot from the warmth and sweetness and adoration. He kissed her harder, firm enough to ensure that the both of them were aware that this was reality and not a dream, his lips parting hers with practised ease (having stolen her breath away with his lips many, many times) before pulling away when the need for air took over. His peachy-pink lips were now stained with the same rich red that coated her own. "Adrien..." Her tone was full of awe and desire, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Sorry, My Lady, I couldn't help myself...I just love you so much," He gently tucked a strand of stray hair behind her ear, fingertips trailing over the shell and then grazing her miraculous which let out a minute chime. "And also, the lipstick was too dark. So I had to take off a few layers~" "You could have used a tissue!" "Now where is the fun in that~?" He ended up falling into a fit of snickers as his partner decided to attack him with kisses all over his face, leaving behind prominent marks and stains and then capturing his lips one more time. He really was in heaven. . . . ~(x)~

#my writing #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #adrinette #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction

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realmackross · 3 months

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PARTIES: @recoveringdreamer @faoighiche @realmackross TIMING: Second week of January SUMMARY: A balam, fae, and zombie come together to save the town from getting trampled. WARNINGS: unsanitary tw, head trauma tw, eye trauma tw, animal abuse tw (it's a spn creature, but I'd rather be on the safe side)

They weren’t sure why they still did things like this. After the first few times that venturing away from town had proven disastrous, one might think that Felix had learned their lesson. But… they were never much of a learner. Always slower than their siblings, always struggling with simple things like reading the words on a page. Leo had often commented on their lack of intelligence; it was difficult for Felix to insist that he was wrong about that.

At least they had a purpose today. They’d had the Pit’s contract hanging over their head for years now, but they’d always been too nervous to really test the limits of it. In the beginning, sure, they’d gone against it at every turn and suffered the consequences in turn. But they’d grown… complacent after a while. They wanted to stop that. So, they were testing the limits. They were seeing how far they could stray from town before the ill-effects of their contract set in, testing it out to see if leaving town was the trigger or if things only went sideways when they actually skipped out on a fight. It would be good information to have, they thought. It would be nice.

They were a little ways outside the town’s borders with no consequences to speak of now, and feeling more and more confident the farther they strayed. Maybe they could do something with this, something substantial. Maybe…

There was a cloud up ahead. Felix squinted at it uncertainly. It was dark and moving, and for a moment, they wondered if it was because of them, somehow. Was this a consequence for leaving town? No, that didn’t make any sense. They felt fine. Curiously, they moved closer, shifting just enough to allow the jaguar’s senses to enhance their sight, smell, and hearing. The sound was distant, but growing much louder as they moved towards it. Pounding… hooves? Felix continued on.

They spotted a figure up ahead; not the source of the sound, and probably not the source of the cloud, either. Human… or human-like. It was hard to say for sure. “Hey!” They called out as they approached. “Do you know what’s going on? I saw a — cloud.”

---

Mackenzie had been out for a jog. In fact, jogging had become her new regular thing, but it wasn’t for the exercise. It wasn’t for the fresh air or nature. It was for one purpose only, and even though it had been months, her intent was to see if there was any sign on the outskirts of town of the damage she had done back in September. Bones. A husk of a body. Anything that clued her in on the problems she had caused after touching the Serpent Flats.

However, something else lay just up ahead. Something that let out a horrendous sound as it charged forward and towards her and the town. She had seen these before. At Monty’s farm. They were sprinkled around the edge of the farm as protection for the animals, but she had never seen one in action or really knew what they could do. But Mack did know how big they were, regardless of the way the ground shook as their hooves hit the paved road. Nothing she wanted to hang around for, and without hesitation, found herself running back as quickly as she could towards town and someone coming their way, “Go back!!! Don’t come this way!!! There’s danger!!!” She had hoped her voice carried, but between running and just not having the strength when she was alive, Mack didn’t know if they could hear her.

---

Burrow had heard her precious parasites call to her. A wail that led her down a path with a cloud at the end. An innocent thing, if not for the wails growing louder the closer she approached. As the wind carried down a single taste of that cloud, it went down her throat like barbs. A full course of it would certainly leave her hurling. Perhaps even death. Many of her parasites were safe from it, either lacking a need for breath or possessing the capacity to move. But many of the breathless were nestled in those that did breathe. Those that grew sicker as panic had them welcoming more of the poison. A cycle that would tumble further down into the grave. Her parasites would be dragged down with them. No. She would not allow it.

The ground rumbled, matching the great beating in Burrow’s chest. She called to her precious ones. Move. Writhe. Bite. Make a great mess only for this moment. Make your presence known, make your pain known, so that it may urge your hosts to move. MOVE! Her parasites made it so, but the hosts were not as understanding. Though the hosts did move, they lacked a sense of direction. So they remained, choking still on the cloud. Her parasites still wailed, joined by the screams of those creatures unknown. “Mo chreach 'sa thàinig,” she hissed.

Laced within the wailing and the stomping and the screaming, Burrow heard the presence of humans. Their screams were frantic and confused, unlike the quaking and the cloud that all continued through the trees unabated. Their lack of cohesion hinted at a lack of alliance. But humans were known to lie. Further evidence would be needed to trust that judgment — to trust them at all. She continued, swift and silent, not adding to the clamor in the air. There was no use in exposing her position to all the ones that screamed.

---

They came closer to that maybe-human shape, spotted the source of the cloud in the distance. Familiarity tugged at their gut, a quiet but persistent thing. They’d seen these before. Hadn’t they? On Monty’s farm, the day they’d fought against the bat vampire. What had Monty called them? Felix couldn’t remember. They did remember the way the animals screeched when the vampiric being tore through them, the memory making their mouth go dry.

The voice of the other startled them from their thoughts, and their eyes landed on a woman. “What — What’s happening? Do you know? Where did they come from?” They weren’t Monty’s. Felix knew that, on some level, knew that their friend and his farm were safe as anything ever could be in Wicked’s Rest, but the worry still ate at them. They came closer, some of that cloud moving towards them. Felix inhaled, choking a little as they stumbled back. What the hell? “Hey, the — The cloud! I think it’s, uh… bad. You should — You have to get away from it!” They lifted their arm to cover their mouth and nose with their sleeve, a makeshift, ineffective gas mask, and surged forward, desperate to pull the stranger away from the gas… and utterly unaware that there was someone else watching.

---

Mackenzie had made it as fast as she possibly could ignoring her surroundings including the person hidden in the trees watching and waiting. However, the gas that had filled the air hadn’t seemed to phase her. Instead, she had thought it was just a cloud of dust being kicked up with the haze. Zombie vision wasn’t the best and neither were zombie lungs, but whatever this was that was making her new found ally cough like crazy, Mack quickly caught onto; especially when they made an effort to cover their face and proclaim it was bad. An easy out to her not being normal, if she didn’t play along. Being a zombie and keeping it a secret was hard. “Uh, right.” She feigned a cough or two and quickly pulled her shirt up over her nose and mouth. That was some shitty acting, Mackenzie.

“I don’t know what’s happening…” Make them think you’re out of breath Mackenzie. Throw in a few more coughs. “But…But I was out for a jog, and I saw them coming this way. I’ve seen these before…not these particular ones, but someone I know has some, and I’ve never seen them anything but docile. They're headed this way though, and I think their next stop is Downtown.” She coughed again for the hell of it.

---

Burrow had taken one last breath before the cloud consumed her. While it would last her much longer than the humans could hope, she did not want to waste it talking to them. At least those weak lungs of theirs did hack out a cover for her steps, so there was some use in them. Between the hacks and wheezes, they kept mentioning a ‘them’. Likely those creatures: the ones who stomped with a distinctly hooved nature. Everything else was silent, drifting into death’s embrace. Yet, some of the stompers charged passed her without a care. The fog grew so thick about their mouths it would have surely choked them out. And yet, they continued, that fog trailing behind them like an old friend. They were to blame for her parasites’ pain. And those humans knew them. Of course. It was always the humans and their poison that worked together to see their end, even if in this case the death was more generalized.

Burrow called onto her precious ones — the ones not trapped in a slowly dying body. The mistletoe in the branches and the worms in the roots heard her. They writhed in preparation, waiting for her call. She did not approach the humans; she only made her voice known to them. Precious oxygen wasted, but in the hopes it could help save her precious ones. “How. Do. I. Stop. Them?” If the humans would not comply, she would show them how nature was not to be trifled with.

---

At first, the blonde wasn’t coughing or showing any sort of difficulty with the gas, and Felix felt concern ebbing through their chest. They didn’t know much about poison or how it operated — what if it paralyzed her lungs somehow? Made her think she was fine when she was really dying? But then she started to cough, and the sound filled him with such an intense relief that that threatened to choke him just as surely as the gas did. “Yeah,” they agreed with a cough of their own. “I’ve seen them before but never like this.” They wished Monty was here; he’d know more about them, know how to stop them, what to do. Felix, as they usually were, was all but useless.

At the idea of the creatures heading for downtown — and taking that gas with them — the balam paled. “We can’t let that happen,” they said urgently. “People will get hurt. People might — We have to —” Stop them, they were going to finish. But before they could, another voice spoke up, asking the same question that was on Felix’s panicked mind. They turned towards the sound, trying desperately to find the person who’d spoken. They were in trouble, too, they needed to get away from the gas too. And all of them needed to keep the stampede from getting to town. “I don’t know,” they called out uncertainly. “But we need to find a way. Maybe…” Hadn’t Monty rounded on them with a lasso, like they were normal cows? “We should herd them. Away from town, away from whatever’s upsetting them.”

---

Phew. Mack felt the same relief come over her that seemed to have come over the person standing in front of her. She was in the clear. At least momentarily. She was sure at this point that if they lingered around these things, her secret would come out. But something had to be done. The animals had to be stopped, because Mackenzie didn’t want more blood on her hands even if it was second hand and due to not stopping ginormous bovine. And just as she was about to reply, another voice was heard. But like her ally, Mack found herself frantically looking around for the other person.

No luck. Fuck this town was weird. But Mackenzie didn’t have time to dwell. Otherwise, her and a mess of other people and things would be flattened, “Herding them is a good idea, but how? I don’t think those things are going to listen to two people and a mysterious rogue voice.” She glanced towards the woods wondering if that was where it was coming from.

---

I don’t know. Burrow rolled her eyes. “Lies. You know the creatures.” She didn’t have the breath to worm it out of them. At least they had offered an idea. Herd them. She had done the same to the others of the forests. Did the creatures who had caused her parasites pain be hosts themselves? If so, she would claim their insides the same as any. She scurried through the vegetation — deeper into the fog until her eyes stung with tears. But she was a being who worked best in the dark and the unseen parts of the world. A diminished sight would never be a deterrent. She ran further, deeper still, until the stomping grew so loud it shook her soul.

There they were, the source of all this mess. Burrow could see the silhouettes blending and meshing together. An amalgamation of deadly smoke and sound. But despite all the misery, in that great and shifting form she could sense a pleasant buzzing. Her parasites. She called to them. Move. Writhe. Bite. Make a great mess only for this moment. Make your presence known, make your pain known, so that it may urge your hosts to move. MOVE! It was slow at first. It was always slow at first. She cowered behind a tree to avoid a pair of horns from beheading her. But slowly and surely, there was a shift in the creatures’ behavior. Aggression relented to unease. What once was a rampage became a mess of quivering. The creatures no longer knew where to run.

---

“I don’t even know what they’re called! I just have a friend who has some on a farm but they don’t — I thought they were just weird looking cows!” Frustration was clear in Felix’s voice, louder than they usually let themself get. There was a tinge of panic to it, and they pressed their sleeve harder against their nose and mouth in a desperate attempt to keep themself from hyperventilating and breathing in way too much of that poison gas. They considered their options here. Did they bring the jaguar out? They doubted it would do much good. If faced with a situation like this, the jaguar was more likely to flee to safety and leave the town to be overrun than he was to herd the creatures in the right direction.

But then… something happened. The third person, the one who was in the smoke and breathing in way too much of it, seemed to vanish. For a moment, Felix was terrified that she’d succumbed to it, been overtaken and left choking and sputtering unheard on the ground. But then, the herd seemed to change direction. Felix let their eyes shift more, risking the change in color in shape to give them a better look. There was a figure in the fog, ducking behind a tree. She was controlling them, somehow. Taking a deep breath of clean air and holding it, Felix ran towards them.

“The Fields!” Their voice was quick, the words forced out with as little precious breath as they could manage. “Drive them towards Gatlin Fields!” There was a lot of open space out there, and it was near Monty’s farm. If nothing else, Felix thought, they could text the zombie for an assist.

---

It seemed the conversation carried on between the mysterious voice and the person near Mack, but the mention of Monty peaked her interest. They knew Monty too? “You know, Monty?” She moved in closer toward them. But she could tell that it was getting harder for them to breathe. If they stayed here much longer, she’d be carrying a body back to town, and how was that going to look? Of course, hearing the steady sound of hooves switching direction caught her attention, and the concern for the mystery person that lingered in the back of her mind had disappeared.

Something good was happening. Not good for the ones that were bound to die from the toxic fumes of massive cow-like creatures, but good for the town of Wicked’s Rest. However, with the creatures headed towards Gatlin Fields, Mackenzie’s mind went to the farm and the hundreds of undead who reside and worked there. If those creatures trampled and gravely injured the zombies, they’d have a horde of mindless hungry undead and soon a town massacre on their hands anyways. And Sellama!!! Mackenzie couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to Sellama.

Taking off running in that direction following Team Bovine, Mackenzie knew something had to be done. If this mystery person could herd them, could they stop them too? “You have to be able to stop them!!! If you don’t you’re gonna have an even bigger problem on your hands!!!” She was trailing the only person she could actually see.

---

The humans barked commands at Burrow as if she had any control of the situation. As if these creatures she had never seen before were of her domain. As if she would care about their opinions! She slipped further into the fog, letting it take her until her sight grew spots from irritation. Even if the humans’ assumptions about her nature were incorrect, she did not enjoy that they could discern anything about her. Parasites were not meant to be known. If only she could disappear up into a tree or down into the ground. But she had a purpose, a magnificent duty, to fulfill. She was nothing, deserved to be nothing, if she could not fulfill it. So, she would continue.

Burrow called to the parasites of the stompers. They borrowed into muscles that were never meant to know their name. They writhed out of orifices, slithered under skin, tore apart tissue. She hoped it would not lead to their sacrifice. Hopefully the humans would have the decency to be grateful and not enact the means to her parasites’ death. The stompers wished the opposite. They shrieked, causing the fog to spew from their mouths with such thickness it looked solid. Their hooves joined the acceleration. They rampaged away, forgetting the town entirely in their desperation to be rid of whatever was happening to them. “They go where they go.” She did not care to elaborate. The humans had already claimed more of her oxygen than she had been willing to give. Whatever they wanted was to be dealt by the whims of nature, not her.

---

Felix was surprised to hear their friend’s name from the mouth of a stranger, and they turned towards the blonde with a furrowed brow. “You know Monty?” But there was little time to worry about their mutual connections now; they needed a solution, and Felix’s newfound companion seemed to think that the Fields was a bad one while the mysterious person in the thick of the fog seemed unable to control the beasts with any kind of precision. There was no perfect answer. There would be people anywhere the beasts ended up, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe by the second. Spots danced at the edge of Felix’s vision. They were keeping their breath as shallow as they could, but this presented problems all its own. Not enough oxygen was getting to their lungs, and that which was being delivered was tainted. The jaguar stirred, pushing for control. Felix pushed him down. Not a good time.

“Okay!” They agreed, coughing again as the fog around them thickened. “Okay, they go where they go. But we need to make sure it isn’t towards town. We need to… steer them any way we can.”

---

“Yes, I know Monty! A conversation for another time!” She continued to chase after the person, the beasts, and the mysterious voice, but hearing the agreement to let the beasts go where they wanted to go – which was now towards Monty’s farm, left Mackenzie screaming out in their direction, “NO!” If I don’t tell them why…Fuck! She pushed harder catching up to Felix, so her voice could stay low, “You said you’re friends with Monty right? Well I’m like Monty. And if you were to severely injure me, I would be looking for food anywhere I could find it, including Wicked’s Rest. Do you catch my drift…” She looked over at them hard, not showing any signs of struggling with the poison now. No coughing. No breathing at all.

Mackenzie had hoped that this plan would work. Just enough information for them to catch on without her having to say the word zombie, just in case they didn’t know what Monty was. And if they didn’t she would find another way. Even if it meant somehow jumping onto the beasts’ backs and ripping their flesh off with her teeth or beating them with a rock to get to their brains. If they didn’t have brains they couldn’t function or harm anyone, despite her hoping and praying she wouldn’t have to go that route for the sake of innocent animals.

---

The humans were discussing amongst themselves. At least that gave Burrow reprieve from their attempts at command… For the most part. She did not spare them anymore of her ears or mind. Her focus focused solely on her parasites. She pushed to them — through them, inside them — entwining the same as they did the stompers’ guts. Her call grew larger, deeper, digging into the soil. Others answered. Her vines were a whisper on her neck, safely tucked away from the humans. Too far away. She would never have them so close to town, and she would not ask them then. It put them all at risk. But maybe… maybe she could reach them. They could claim those stomping feet and render them silent. She could save the parasites within and find them new hosts. Ones that did not bring death to all the others. A wonderful plan! But a lot of could’s that hinged on the cooperation of the very thing that caused all the death. If only she could call to them like her parasites.

Burrow followed after the stomping and the death, her legs growing tired but not her heart. When the stomping turned towards town, she called to her parasites for more pain. A pain that was only eased when they changed their direction back to the woods. Back to where her vines waited, writing in anticipation. At least the creatures could comprehend cause and effect. Hopefully it was enough.

---

“Good call,” Felix agreed with a sheepish smile and a quiet cough. Now wasn’t the time to be focusing on mutual friends. Now was the time to… save the day or something. It was difficult to concentrate; Felix was trying to breathe as little as possible to avoid inhaling the mist, and the lack of oxygen was beginning to get to them just a little. As the blonde went on to talk about Monty — and how she was like him — Felix thought of the way the cowboy had reacted during their fight with the vampire. They grimaced. “I’ve seen that,” they admitted. “But… Monty also knows how to deal with these things. He has them on his farm. And he doesn’t need to —” They coughed again, the fit breaking up their words. “Breathe,” they finished breathlessly. Anywhere else they sent these things, there would be an undeniable risk of… suffocation. Like the suffocation Felix was suffering from now. Their vision blurred a little, and they pressed their sleeve harder against their nose and mouth. Whatever they were going to do, they needed to do it fast. Otherwise, Felix wouldn’t make it out.

Their unseen companion might be in trouble, too. Felix wasn’t sure if she, too, was undead, or if she was struggling just as much as Felix themself. They hoped adamantly for the former, not wanting anyone else to suffer like this. In any case, she seemed effective in whatever she was doing to steer the beasts. They moved towards the woods. A safer destination than Monty’s farm, perhaps, though nothing felt entirely safe. Felix was a little too distracted to think of it too much, to consider the pros and cons. They were barely on their feet now. “We should… follow,” they gasped out, swaying a little. “Make sure they go where they won’t hurt anyone. Come on!”

---

Not only had her worry been on a farm full of zombies that could potentially wreak havoc, but now, Mack found herself keeping her eyes on Felix. They didn’t seem to be doing so great, and she could tell they were getting much weaker. But some relief had seemed to come, when she noticed the huge beasts break stride and turn towards the woods. They were no longer headed towards Monty’s or town; the mysterious voice in the woods had done it. But how much longer could they or Felix survive? It didn’t seem necessary to keep discussing the risks of rabid zombies when they were no longer in the path of destruction.

At this point, Mackenzie was only following in case she needed to drag anyone back to safety. The toxic fumes that trailed the beasts had no effect on her whatsoever, and as long as the town and the farm seemed to be safe, which they were for the moment, the young zombie knew what she had to do, “Maybe you should turn back! You’re getting weaker! And it looks like our mysterious friend in the woods has it under control!” She wasn’t sure if the person that had found a way to control raging bull like creatures was even human themself, or if they were in the same danger of suffocating, but right now Mack could only focus on what she could see.

---

Burrow’s legs screamed for a rest she could not take — her lungs screamed for a breath she did not trust. The air was still clogged with the poison. It had not yet made the humans fall, but she could not rely on that knowledge. The poison affected all the others differently, shown by how some of the hosts lay dead by its might. Feeling her parasites choke inside those dead bodies threatened to release a scream: a scream for those without a voice. But she could not waste any air. She had to continue so the others would be spared the same death. If only the stompers weren’t so unruly. But there were those who listened to her will. Her precious vines writhed over to where the stompers’ paths would end. All she had to do was make sure they met the finish line. She commanded the worms to do one terrible tearing. Erupt as many muscles as they could, render those hosts useless, for soon they would be dead anyway. The vines would make use of them.

Her worms listened, but her body did not. Burrow finally took a gasp. A gasp of searing pain. Her body quivered against the intrusion. Her glamour did as well, revealing bits of her truth. Tendrils pooled out from her mouth as if they could push the toxins away. It did not ease the pain. Her parasites continued in her stead. She could feel, in a distance unseen, that the vines had begun to claim their prize. The stompers were powerful. So many of her vines snapped from their alarm. But she could feel how the stompers stumbled, weakened by the worms inside. Those worms still needed to be rescued. They would die along with the stompers if she did not reach them. She just… had to reach them. She gripped the body of a fallen rabbit. The worms that had been suffering under its dead skin gladly entered her own. Their invasion brought a pleasant tingle. Enough to bring herself back to her feet. Stumbling, with convulsions for breaths, but she continued forward.

---

“N-No!” Felix stammered, taking another stumbling step forward. “I’m okay. I want to help.” They closed their eyes for a moment, trying to concentrate. Within their chest, their lungs ached. They let the shift take them, let those lungs give way to more powerful ones, ones that could hold a breath for longer. With their current state, half suffocated by the poison, the partial shift was a messy one. The external shape of their chest shifted in a way that was unnatural on the rest of their torso, tufts of fur beneath their shirt. They hoped it wasn’t too noticeable… or, rather, that there were so many other things going on that no one would be able to spare the attention their way.

With the jaguar’s lungs in use, Felix could hold their breath longer. Up to twenty minutes, if you stretch it, their brother told them once before shoving them into the lake with a laugh. They’d done some research, after that, curious as to how long it could really last. There was no definitive answer. Fifteen minutes, twenty minutes, an hour… It was hard to say for certain, and Felix had always been pretty adamant that they’d rather not accept the strain of finding it out. But it would come in handy here, in any case, and he followed the blonde zombie into the woods in spite of her protests.

Their unseen friend had driven the creatures into a vulnerable position. Tangled in vines, unable to move freely. For a moment, Felix thought it might be over. They could find someone who knew about the beasts and take care of them, and it would be fine. But one of the cow-like creatures was thrashing in the vines, wild and desperate, and it broke free. It stumbled forward, it was — strange. Its movements were stilted, somehow, unnatural. Felix took an uncertain step back, grabbing the zombie by the arm to pull her back with them. Something’s wrong, he thought, but he didn’t dare open his mouth to say it, didn’t want to release the breath still held in those powerful lungs just to state the obvious.

---

Mackenzie hadn’t noticed the partial shift in Felix, but she did keep her eyes trained forward on the beasts as she noticed them faltering with each step. Whoever their mysterious companion was, they had a deeper control on the animals than Mack initially thought. But somehow the three had been paired up by the universe to stop whatever had caused the creatures to rage in the first place. Creatures that normally seemed so docile when she had witnessed them before. It hurt her knowing that the ending to this story might not have been what she had hoped.

As she inched closer to where the animals had finally been sent downwards with a tangle of vines and Earth, Mackenzie was just about to approach one of them, when she noticed Felix grab her by the arm. If it hadn’t been for them, Mackenzie was sure to have been squished by a hoof. “Thanks! I think something’s wrong with it...” She looked over to Felix with concern on her face, but not before the animal started to stumble toward them both again. With the other ones subdued, Mackenzie knew something had to be done about the stray, and without giving it a second thought, she let her stunt training and fearlessness take it’s true grasp on her.

Running as fast as her deadened feet would carry her, Mackenzie found the nearest tree and started to climb upwards. It had been a while since she had climbed or had really done anything that physical that she was aware of at least, and it was somewhat of a struggle at first, but then instinct kicked in and she found herself shimming out onto a sturdy enough branch. And just as the animal stumbled back in her direction, Mackenzie launched herself onto it digging her fingers and hands into its long fur to get a good grip knowing exactly what was about to happen.

“FUUUUUUCCCKKKK!!!” The word echoed out through the trees as the animal started bucking around emitting more toxic gas, while Mackenzie was flung from one side to the other, before it started taking off in a completely different direction from Felix, mystery person, and the other tangled up animals. And reluctantly, she knew what she would probably have to do if it got too close to town - dinner for days…

---

You all may rest. Burrow’s worms had done so well, ensuring the demise of the death fumes. Her worms deserved to be nestled sweetly in their homes. If only those homes were not slowly succumbing to a choking death. She would find better homes, but first, she must save them. Her mouth ducked under her layers of clothes, which filtered the air as she took a shaking breath. It stung and quivered with rejection in her chest, but she forced it to stay. Forced it into a numbness, despite the throbbing in her head. While her lungs wished to be free of the air, the stompers refused to be done with theirs. They thrashed and stumbled, but did not escape their leashes… save for one. Her approaching presence had strengthened the might of her vines, who writhed faster than the stomper’s depleted bodies. In time, the only proof of their life would be the clouds still circling through the air. Clouds that would slowly dwindle into nothing. But her parasites could not rely on that patience.

Burrow hands gripped the stompers’ necks: one to save and one to cut. Her parasites slithered into her waiting hand, while the other slit the throats. Again and again, one by one. With each joyous reunion of her worms and each joyous claim of her vines, she felt her trembled body grow straighter. Except, one disrupted the pattern. Another won its fight against the vines, ripping free of its hold. But it was not free from death. The vines that still coiled about its body tripped its feet. It made the creature stumble into Burrow’s path, and then into her blade, and then into death. In death, they will all serve her parasites well. She smiled, thinking of the mighty hounds to be made from their bodies. They were so lucky, to be molded into ones so beautiful.

But Burrow was not yet done. She looked to where the humans had clamored after the final stomper. While she could not see, she could feel her vines tight hold in the faint distance. With its voracious grasp, it tugged at her heart, and she followed after it.

---

It was chaos. Somehow, even more so than it had been when there was a herd of animals to worry about. Felix continued to hold their breath, refusing to let themself speak now despite how the words wanted so badly to escape their lips. Save your breath, they reminded themself. You don’t know how many you have left if you keep breathing this stuff in. Their vision was swimming, their chest aching, but they held fast. Even as the zombie they’d aligned themself with climbed up a tree and launched herself onto the back of the last animal left loose.

Felix couldn’t help but let out a surprised sound, losing a fraction of the precious air they’d trapped in their lungs. The creature bucked wildly, emitting more and more gas until it was hard to see around it. They hardly noticed the mystery person’s movements from the woods, certainly couldn’t make out what was being done to the creatures trapped in the vines. All they could see was the shadow of the creature the zombie had jumped on, trying wildly to buck her off. If she fell…

Undead wasn’t the same as invincible. Felix knew that. He’d seen it proven in the Pit, time and time again when zombies or vampires fought and walked away with just as many bruises and bumps as the shifters did, even if those injuries promised a quicker healing time. Healing wasn’t the same as not hurting. And Felix didn’t think the zombie deserved to hurt.

Determined, the balam shifted their hand so that their fingers ended in sharp claws. They didn’t like the idea of hurting the creature, but what choice did they have? They needed to keep anyone else from being injured by it, be that the zombie, their unseen companion, or the people in town. Rushing forward and dodging the wild hooves with practiced skill, Felix ducked underneath the creature and dug their claws into its underside, hoping to at least slow its rampage.

---

At this point, Mackenzie didn’t know what any of her partners were up to. All she could focus on was clinging on for dear death. The way it bucked and twirled had reminded her of the mechanical bull episode on Dropped. She rode that fucking thing so many times, that by the end of the filming day, she couldn’t even walk back to her dressing room. This was a very similar situation, but somehow she had still managed to lean into its fur and speak softly to it, “Hey Girl…easy. I don’t want to hurt you. None of us want to hurt you. We just want you to calm down okay?” She still had a tight grip on the creature's fur, but she took the risk and started to stroke it softly on the neck with her other hand.

It had seemed to be working, until she heard the beast yelp out in pain. And start bucking even more than it had been before. Letting her other hand latch back onto its fur, she somehow continued to hang on while it started to slow down some, but just like the sweet aroma of anything dead or knocking on death’s door, Mackenzie could smell the blood that was seeping into its fur underneath and that meant only one thing.

A zombie that could barely control herself on the back of a wounded animal was like Edward Cullen sparkling in the sunlight. It just went together, and as she could feel herself losing her mind and her eyes starting to glaze over, the zombie’s reflexes started to slow, except for her insatiable need to feed. And with a wide maw, bit down hard into the creature's back and yanked out a piece of flesh just before being thrown off the animal and hard to the ground below, where she lay motionless.

---

As above, so below. A statement the humans took literally — mirrored on both sides of the stomper. A reflection that was shattered, as the above was flung higher to the sky. Flying with the same grace as a beetle: destined to fall. Fall into madness as well, for Burrow had seen how the human tore into the beast’s hide. Was that the effects of this strange toxin in the air? It would explain why they had both launched themselves onto the rampaging beast. At least it was a madness she avoided with her closed lips. She avoided the fallen human as well, as she diverted her course slightly.

A course Burrow was not sure had a finish line. Though her vines still coiled about the stomper’s legs, it was not assisted by its brethren. They tripped and staggered the mighty beast, but lacked the security of the ones before. She did not trust to approach it. Nor did she feel much of a need. With the stomper’s kin dead, the smog of death had become a haze. Certainly irritable to most hosts and devastating to the ones too stupid to avoid, but her parasites were much the same. As long as the hosts still stood to provide for her parasites, she did not care.

To whom the stomper would provide became a question. All of Burrow’s parasites had sufficient arguments. It was already her worms’ home, but a home that had become pitiful and failing. The beast had impressive gusto despite its wounds, but for how long? Her vines would make use of it no matter its state, even in death. Oh, but she could not choose. Their wants were her wants were their wants: she could not choose because they could not choose. Both sides wanted themselves as sole owner. So, she would wait and see which want would be victorious. Make your claim and make it quick.

Burrow returned to her role from before. A silent observer to the whims of nature.

---

The beast bucked the zombie off its back, and Felix released a little of the precious air from their lungs in the form of a stilted gasp. She’d be okay; logically, he knew that. After all, they’d seen Monty get his arm torn off, and he was texting just a few days after the fact. Zombies were much more resilient than balam. (Felix tried not to think about his mother in the woods, bullets tearing through her flesh. They tried not to think about it but, sometimes, it was difficult to think about anything else.)

With the jaguar’s sharp ears, they heard the hidden companion from the woods approaching. They turned to look, sharp eyes finding her as she came to a stop and observed the scene. She wasn’t helping anymore. Why wasn’t she helping anymore? Felix glanced down at their hand, at the claws they were trying to conceal by folding it into a fist. Had she seen them? Was she afraid? The thought made Felix feel a little uneasy. They’d never wanted anyone to be afraid of them, but so many people were. A monster was a monster, especially when its claws were soaked in blood.

But there wasn’t much else to do, was there? The beast was stomping. It was still heading towards town, its hooves were still landing too close to the zombie’s head where she lay. With a quiet resolve, Felix launched themself forward again, using a little more of that air stored up in the jaguar’s lungs to murmur apologies as their claws tore into the creature’s back.

---

Mackenzie was stunned, and it had taken her a minute to get back to her feet; narrowly being squashed by giant hooves. She knew it had been rather risky, but she had hoped the piece she had taken out of the animal’s back had slowed — nope. Never mind. The sound of the wailing creature, as Felix dug their claws into its back (wait…claws?) alerted the zombie that her efforts had been hopeless. And though she had wished it hadn’t come to this, at least the town and the farm full of the undead were all safe.

She watched as the beast stumbled around. Its pace slowed, but her concern grew for the person latched on top. They looked like Wolverine hanging in the back of the creature. And then her eyes shifted to someone else. The mystery voice from the woods. So they did have a solid form! Mackenzie couldn’t quite tell who was a ghost and who was real anymore. But her attention turned back to Felix, who was probably going to need a little more back up, “Hey! You! Person from the woods! I’m assuming your vines are what tripped up the other beasts? Can you use them to get me back on top of that thing? I think it’s going to take all of us together simultaneously to stop this creature!” She looked at the person, who stood silently.

---

Eyes ticked, ticked, ticked back and forth in pursuit of her target. But no longer was Burrow filled with a need to do more. In that air of calamity, she had found her peace. Either way this ended, the beast would be claimed by her parasites. She did not care which way nature decided, as long as that host continued to squirm in her grasp. And squirm it did, as it ricocheted off every rock and crack. Lost without the aid of its brethren, the stomper ripped through the land like a train with no track. Yet, that human who remained, continued to remain. The human should have been sent crashing right into the other, and yet, he didn’t. Her attention on the display was no longer casually placed. She focused onto the human — onto the hands that gripped. No, not gripped. They slashed; they tore; they bore nature’s blades. The curve of the claws were familiar: feline. Feline… Was that one of na lèintean craiceann? It would make sense why the cat had been so keen on assisting the human, for they all loved the humans so.

A generosity the human thought would be shared in Burrow. She asked for help where no help would be found. Burrow continued to stare in silence, with no interest in giving the human what she wanted. But, she could be persuaded. Her head tilted curiously. “I will use my vines to put you on the beast, if you promise me a favor of my choosing.” A vague proposition to match the ambiguity of the human’s potential. What could this human do for her?

---

It was like one of those mechanical bulls, Felix thought; they clung to the creature’s back as it swung and bucked, but they had a bit of an upper hand not often granted to cowboys in dive bars. Thanks to their claws, they could maintain their grip while also damaging the beast. It wasn’t something they really wanted to do, but… It was necessary, wasn’t it? The needs of the many versus the needs of the one. They couldn’t let this beast go into town with its poison breath and its damaging hooves, couldn’t let anyone else be hurt.

They also couldn’t take it out on their own.

They glanced to their companions, to the zombie and the girl from the woods. They seemed to be having a discussion, though Felix couldn’t make out the words over the sound of the creature’s rampaging hooves. Whatever they were talking about, the balam could only hope that it ended with them helping finish this job. Otherwise, they doubted they’d be able to hang on much longer, claws or no claws.

---

Mackenzie was starting to tire out, and the hard hit to the ground didn’t make things easier. If this beast wasn’t stopped soon, not only would they have a large beast to still take down, but a hunger stricken zombie with no functioning brain cells, “Uh, yeah! Whatever. Fine! Just get me up there!” Mack didn’t know the mysterious woods person had been fae. She didn’t know she was making a deal she was going to have to keep and that that very deal was binding and at the discretion of someone she’d only just met. But her heart was in the right place, and she knew it was going to take a team effort for this to work out for the betterment of everyone.

Once the promise had been made, Mack quickly scooped up a large rock as she could feel the vines sweeping her off of her feet, and before she knew it, she was back on the beast hanging onto its neck fur as she slowly inched her way up to its head with the decent sized rock still in her grip, “I’m so sorry. I don’t want to do this to you, but there’s no other choice and a lot of people could get hurt…” Mackenzie glanced back at the person latched onto the monster’s back with sad eyes, before turning her attention back on the animal, where she took the rock in both hands and started to repeatedly hit the animal over the head, but this time there was one goal in mind — get to its brain. With no brain, it couldn’t function, and she wouldn’t lose herself in the process.

---

The bind coiled around the human with the same eagerness as her vines gripped the stomper. Human and stomper alike were trapped in Burrow’s grasp. But their shared fate did not sprout any connection. As soon as the human was rejoined with the stomper, she ensured its end with each beat of that rock. Producing wet cracks far louder than any stomp of those hooved feet. Such a violent approach for one who seemed so compassionate. Emotional, yet brutally competent. Burrow could find usefulness with such a person. The specifics were yet to be determined — the depths of their exchange would wait until the reveal of the most efficient path. In that moment, Burrow was a simple bystander to all the wonderful ways the human could be used. Every vicious strike, every mournful cry, painted a grand picture of the human’s assets.

Those displays of the human’s usefulness chipped away at the stomper’s own. Beat after beat, the stomper’s feet lost its hold upon the ground. Only stubbornness kept the beast continuing forward, but even that threatened to seep through the cracks forming on its skull. A theft that was assisted by those greedy vines, who stole away the feet’s stability with a tight tug. Beast and cat and human alike tumbled to the ground for the last time. The stomper splayed upon the ground: its butcher block and early grave. With a final beat, any remnants of consciousness were smashed into bits that littered the forest floor.

Burrow waited at a distance, until that spray of gore ceased. As soon as the last piece oozed into the ground, she approached the fallen stomper. With eyes steady upon both the strangers, she called her parasites to the furthest limb from both. She grasped the stomper’s hindleg, watching both of the strangers carefully, as her worms wiggled into her waiting arms. To safety they burrowed, in hurried lines. Once the last worm was secured, she quickly moved back to her own safety. Back to the trees; back to a watchful stare. “I will tell you the favor when I decide what the favor will be.”

---

Each thud of the rock hitting the beast’s skull elicited a flinch from Felix in spite of their bloodied claws. They’d never liked violence, never enjoyed it. The fact that they seemed destined to exist in an endless cycle of it was a cruel twist of fate they weren’t sure how to get away from. At least here, it was a necessary thing. They were destroying this animal to save the people in the town below, were making a small sacrifice to save a large number. It wasn’t like in the Grit Pit, where Felix fought for the entertainment of people who wanted to see them hurt. It was better than that.

Finally, the beast fell. The thud of its body hitting the ground seemed to echo, and Felix winced at that, too. But it was over now, and over was better. Over was good. The girl from the woods came over, and Felix watched with wide eyes as she approached the fallen beast. Worms crawled from the dead animal and seemed to disappear into the strange woman. Felix had suspected by her behavior and her ability to hold her breath against the poison in the air that she wasn’t entirely human, but they had no idea what she was. It was probably rude to ask, so they didn’t.

With the creature dead and the poison dissipating, Felix let out the breath he’d been holding and took in a desperate gasp of oxygen. “That was — wow.” They breathed, stumbling back a little. “I, um… You guys did great.”

---

Mackenzie continued to beat upon the skull of the beast and with every blow to its cranium, a tear fell from her eyes. Despite their efforts to humanely stop the creature, this had become the outcome. Not only had Mackenzie become a monster when she was in a state she couldn’t control, but she had now felt like a monster in her waking hours. What was this town doing to her?

With one final blow and the tangle of the vines from the mysterious person from the woods, Mackenzie felt herself go down with the clawed person and the huge dying animal. And with a hard thud to the ground, found herself toppling off and the bloodied rock sent flying into the distance. The temptation to consume the nearly deceased animal was beginning to overtake her though as she crawled forwards to meet it again barely hearing the woman of the woods promise that she would be calling on a favor that Mackenzie would eventually have to keep. But it was the complement of how great they had all done that drove her gaze over to Felix, “This…isn’t something to celebrate…and I’d advise you to leave, unless you want to see what really happens when a zombie feeds…”

Her eyes were beginning to glaze from bloodlust and the oozing of the animal's mind onto the ground. And unable to contain herself any longer, the ravaged and dead human began to feast on her kill to satiate the needs of any injuries and temptations that could have plagued the entire town, if the team of three strangers hadn’t stopped the innocent animal from trampling Monty’s farm.

#para: apex predator #para: felix #para: burrow #recoveringdreamer #faoighiche #wickedswriting #unsanitary tw #head trauma tw #eye trauma tw #animal abuse tw

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