#the crisper drawer would be my second choice
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🖊🌙 😐📝
What time of day do you prefer to write? Why?
Late at night, more out of necessity than preference. It’s when I have the least amount of interruptions. Also, it’s a proven fact that the words flow best and hardest when you need to be sleeping or getting ready for bed. It’s just how it works in the universal scheme of things.
What embarrasses you most about your own writing?
When I realize that I’m projecting too much on a character or situation and making it obvious. Like, there are some tropes I don’t mind revisiting over and over, but I get twitchy when I realize, Oops, that’s my issue, not Character X’s, and it’s less realistic they’d feel that way. Or when I catch myself reusing a description or phrase too often. I need to stop limning people in gold; I do it way too often. Or focusing on sweat in weird places during sex scenes. Though, it’s my experience that you do always notice the sweat during sexytimes.
Sometimes it embarrasses me how appealing I find some really OOC or over the top trashy stuff, but everyone’s got their favorite woobie and tropes, so I’ve stopped feeling bad about that.
What is one growth area you have for your writing?
Pacing. I do outline, but for a couple of my stories that were written for exchanges, you can tell where I hit deadline and had to just get it done instead of having a few more scenes or length that might have improved it. (Or, conversely, I should have been more brutal and cut shit that I liked but which ultimately wasn’t necessary. But then again, it’s fanfic.)
Also, uh, just finishing shit. And feeling less silly about it. I don’t like posting WIPs because I like to finish them first, but then I get interested in something else or I think it’s not good enough to post, and it languishes on my hard drive for years.
Post a snippet from a current WIP.
Again, not sure what fandom you're from, so let's go back to hockey since I have it open right now.
"Hey, hi, so like, O and Backy turned into chickens, it's not my fault," Willy said, standing on his front step with a large cardboard box in his arms.
"It's his fault," Burky said from somewhere behind Willy.
"Totally Whip fault," someone else—Kuzy? said, also from behind Willy, who took up a lot of space on a normal basis and even more so when he was apparently hauling boxes around. One arm poked out from behind him and waved wildly, and then there was an unmistakable giggle, so it was definitely Kuzy. "Batya, let us in."
"Fuck you, it's not!" Willy said, and then hoisted the cardboard box up slightly. The box peeped at Brooks loudly, and he jerked back in surprise. "Here, let us in, lemme just explain," Willy added, and then Brooks had three—no, four, no, five, Djoos and Orlov were apparently quietly lurking at the back of the pack as well—teammates stampeding into his house like they were trying to outrun the cloud of youthful indiscretion that Brooks could just fucking see hanging over them.
"Curse my slow door-slamming skills," he said to his now-empty front step, and then closed the door and took a deep breath in order to prepare for whatever the hell was going on.
Most of them were all in his kitchen. Willy had put the box down on the kitchen table and he and Burky were in his pantry; Kuzy was looking in his fridge; he didn't see Djoos; and Snarls, bless his heart, was the only one being polite and standing near one of the chairs, clearly waiting for permission to sit down. Brooks made a mental note to tell Ovi about it, since Ovi believed in positive reinforcement when it came to nurturing the kids, and would probably buy Dima a new car or something.
The box on the table was still peeping. Before Brooks could deal with that, it was drowned out by an even louder noise, which was apparently directly related to Kuzy pawing through his vegetable crisper drawer.
"Batya! It's terrible!" Kuzy said, leaning out of the fridge and brandishing an eggplant at him.
"All of his crackers are wholegrain stuff," Burky called out from the pantry, muffled. "He doesn't have any chips."
"He's got two bags of Skinny Pop, though," Willy added. "Original and White Cheddar."
"Everything so healthy," Kuzy said, making a face. "It's terrible but I guess also good. I know we make best choice to come here."
Brooks took the eggplant away from Kuzy and slapped it against his palm once with a pleasantly solid noise. It had some good heft. "The last person who isn't sitting down at the table quietly in the next fifteen seconds gets to explain to Barry why they have to go on LTIR because someone beat them senseless with an eggplant."
"Like, a real eggplant, or is this a dick joke," Willy said, leaning out of the pantry before his eyes went wide. "Oh."
Kuzy was already opening his mouth with that glint in his eye again, so Brooks pointed the eggplant at him. "Sit. Down. Where's Juicer?"
"I was using the bathroom, please don't hit me," Djoos said meekly, slipping back into the kitchen and sitting down immediately, hands folded on top of the table neatly like a good little d-man. Brooks made another mental note to let Nicky know. Nicky had his own nurturing system for the kids, though that usually ran along the lines of a series of slightly less murderous than usual glares that he used for those currently in his favor.
"Can we bring some Skinny Pop?" Burky asked. "Actually, can we bring both bags?"
"I mean, actually you wouldn't really need to explain so much—" Willy said, and then Burky wiggled past him out of the narrow pantry doors with a bag stowed under each arm, and dove for the table, yelling out, "Hit him, Batya, hit him!"
"Hey!" Willy said indignantly, rushing after him and almost knocking Kuzy over in the process.
There was a briefly chaotic interval like a particularly violent game of musical chairs, but it ended with everyone sitting down in a chair, even if Burky and Djoos were sharing one. Less sharing, maybe, than Burky getting physically dumped out of two chairs in quick succession by Willy and Dima, and then Burky climbing into Djoos's lap, planting himself there, and winding his arms around Djoos's neck despite Djoos's wide-eyed expression of panic, but Brooks decided he couldn't afford to be too particular about it, and Djoos was just going to have to learn to desensitize himself to Burky-induced boners and personal space issues.
The box was still peeping.
Brooks eyed all of them, trying to decide who he had the best chance of getting the story out of the quickest, and then decided that he might as well give up on that and picked Willy, since he had a distinctly guilty expression that was only slightly marred by how he was currently shoving a double handful of Brooks's Skinny Pop into his mouth. "Willy. Explain. And no one else talk until I say they can."
Willy swallowed and licked his lips. "Okay, so. Magic."
After a minute when nothing else seemed to be forthcoming, Brooks cleared his throat. "That's it? That's all you got?"
Willy glanced around the table where all of his teammates were successfully avoiding his gaze (Kuzy and Dima were both pretending to read the nutritional info on the back of the popcorn bag; Burky was actually hiding his face against Djoos's neck; accordingly, Djoos's panic looked like it had ratcheted up by several degrees, and he was staring off into the middle distance with a muscle twitching in his cheek) and when it seemed obvious that no help was forthcoming, he shrugged. "Kinda?"
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kiss me in the d-a-r-k .2.
sunday
Warnings: non/dub con sex (kissling and touchling) psst that’s a game grumps joke which I don’t know the reference for, but seriously, warnings people.
This is dark!(dad)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.
Summary: The reader struggles through a restless night.
Note: Part two has arrived. There will be six total (She leaves on Friday, y’all so not an entire week but close enough right!) Hope you guys are having fun with this, it’s a bit of a slow burn but it gets hot! I promise.
We get a sexy dad!Steve who’s a bit more devious than dark and well…I’ll let you guys figure it out for yourselves! I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think!
...
The long drive and day in the sun coaxed you into a deep sleep. You awoke as the sunlight peeked in around the heavy curtains and stretched across the queen mattress. University had conditioned you to a narrow twin bed and home had seen you sleeping on an aged double. This was a true vacation even if set in the middle of suburbia.
You rose and readied for another day. You'd bask in laziness for as long as it lasted. A pair of torn denim shorts, a loose tank top from that concert you attended during frosh week, and the most comfortable bra you had short of none at all.
You stepped out into the hall. The house was quiet. The silence even more daunting as the grand halls were airy and seemingly endless. You tiptoed down to Kylie’s door and knocked. No answer. You gave another tap and turned the handle slowly.
Kylie was goddess-like in consciousness, but asleep, she was a bear in her cave. Her snores met you first and then the sight of her. Stretched across her canopied bed with a blanket twisted around her long leg. Her phone was still in her hand just beside her pillow.
You backed out and gently closed the door. You hated waking other people. You could wait for her. It was early. Only seven. Maybe you could do something nice. Breakfast? Kylie was nice enough to host and her father was tolerant enough to allow her. It would be a pleasant surprise...if you didn’t destroy the kitchen.
Upon entering the kitchen, you paused and looked around. Even if it was a kind gesture, you wondered if you were overstepping. Staying in another’s house was always a high wire act. A little too far one way or another and you’d be falling to your demise. You bit your lip and your eyes focused on the silver coffee maker at the corner of the counter. Coffee wouldn’t be too much.
You neared and leaned over the marble. Alright, this was a fancy machine. Where exactly did you put the water? You ran your fingers along the top as you felt for a lip but it was entirely smooth. You frowned and traced your fingertips down the back. Was this magic? Could they afford even that?
“You alright?” You were drawn back by the voice, a pathetic squeak caught in your throat. Steve stood at the end of the island. How long had he been there? Watching?
“Yeah, I uh...was trying to figure out how to make coffee. I mean, I know how to I just--”
“It’s fine,” He assured you and rounded the island, “It’s a stupid machine.” He neared and leaned over the counter. You were pinned against the curve of it as he pressed his fingers around the other side. The top popped up with a click. “When we were still together, my ex-wife hired an interior designer who shared her taste in the extravagant. I’ve just never bothered to use it too much but Kylie thrives on her lattes.”
“Oh,” He backed up and opened the cupboard above. He shifted through the boxes of tea and spices. He pulled out three bags of beans. “She has...Colombian, espresso, and...salted caramel? Hmm, didn’t know coffee was so fancy.” He looked back into the cupboard. He could see much more than you could. “I’m sure she has more.”
“It’s fine, Colombian works for me,” You assured him and made yourself look at him. His hair was slightly damp with sweat and his thin shirt clung to his chest.
He left the Colombian roast out and closed the cupboard. He opened the next and pulled out the grinder. You watched as he plugged it in. It was usually instant or pre-ground for you. You felt even more displaced.
“Thanks.” You mumbled and he smiled as he took the top off the grinder and opened it up. “I think I can figure it out from here.”
“I’m sure you can,” He handed over the detachable cup and backed up. He grabbed the empty plastic tumbler he had left on the island and went to the sink. He rinsed it out as you loaded the beans into the grinder. “I’ve already had my wake up,” He said as he placed the cup in the dish rack and worked on cleaning the lid.
“Work out?” You wondered. The shorts, the shoes, the sweat. It was easy small talk.
“Try to get them in before Kylie wakes...which these days isn’t before noon,” He turned off the tap and leaned against the island as he watched you. He paused as you clicked the cup into place and nodded for you to hit the button. He waited as you ground the beans. “Not used to having her back. Last summer she had a job but she’s back to her mom’s in two weeks so we’ll see if she can find anything there.”
“Oh, it must be...crowded now,” Your words turned to a grunt as you tried to untwist the cup. It was jammed.
“Mmm, I wouldn’t put it that way,” He replied, “Wait, don’t force--”
He was behind you but not fast enough. The top of the grinder released and grounds dusted your front. Down your face and neck, all the way inside your tank top. His laugh kept your from cursing.
“Sorry, I should’ve warned you,” He took the grinder from you and shoved it back. He opened a drawer and grabbed a cloth. You turned to him as you tried not to spread the coffee to the floor. “Hold still.”
He started to wipe you face, surprising you as you thought he was focused more on the counter. You blinked and let him. You didn’t know what else to do. He chuckled as the cloth swept around your chin and down your neck.
“Well, I guess this is one way of getting a caffeine rush.”
You shook your head and his hand hovered just above your tank top. You both froze at the realization. His eyes went to his hand and your breath caught. You reached up and snatched the cloth from him and he quickly rescinded his arm. You turned and continued to wipe away the grinds on you before focusing on the counter.
“Sorry, I’ve made such a mess.” You tried to ignore the rising tension. That was weird.
He was beside you again and he reached for the cup. He held it up. “I think there’s enough for a pot.”
He stepped behind you as you bent slightly over the counter to get the stray grounds. You could feel him against you as he reached around and grabbed the filter from the machine. He didn’t back up as he filled it and put it back.
“You should go get cleaned up. I’ll take care of the coffee,” He took the carafe and finally backed away. “Don’t worry about the counter.”
He filled the pot. You peeked over at him as you straightened up with a hand full of grounds. You swore he was smiling. Rather, smirking. You tore your eyes from him and searched out the trash bin at the end of the counter. You hit the step and dumped the handful inside and shook out the cloth.
“Thanks,” You said as you neared and set the cloth beside the sink. “Again.”
“Don’t worry about it,” He twisted the faucet off. “Figured you girls would need a hand around here anyway.”
You nodded and rushed out of the room. You had embarrassed yourself enough. You didn’t consider his words until you were halfway up the stairs. Kylie said his plans had been cancelled but he made it sound like it was more of a choice. Maybe it had been to keep her from Taylor after all.
You shrugged. It wasn’t your problem. It was more a father-daughter issue and you preferred to ignore it and enjoy your reprieve from the real world.
-
Your second day went much the same as the first. Sunbathing, swimming, and scintillation. At least the novel tried to be steamy but it was more hot air.
You were on a lounge chair, sunglasses hid your closed eyes, and you sighed. You didn’t want to get up but there were limits to your sluggishness. You were thirsty and the heat wasn’t helping. Kylie was on her phone with her legs in the pool. She had been chattering for the last hour trying to arrange some get together.
You stood with a stretch. “Hey,” She covered the speaker of her phone, “You going inside?”
“Just grabbing some water,” You said.
“Can you get me a cooler. There right in the back hidden behind the eggs.” You frowned. You didn’t want to abet her in her deception but you also didn’t need to argue with your host.
“Fine,” She was already back on her phone, knowing your acquiescence was granted.
You slid the glass door open and stepped inside. The kitchen was enticingly cool. You poured yourself a water and set it on the island. You already made enough of a mess in here and you weren’t eager to outstay yourself already. You opened the fridge and searched out the eggs. They were beneath the butter dish and an unopened carton of cream.
You bent and snaked your arm over the dairy and felt around for the secreted coolers. Jesus Christ, this fridge was the second portal to Narnia. Nothing. A shadow appeared over you and you stood so fast you hit your elbow on the fridge door.
Steve leaned against the freezer door as he grinned down at you. “I moved the coolers,” He said. “Just under the crisper.”
“Oh,” You chewed your cheek guiltily. “I--”
“Kylie’s not as clever as she thinks. Besides, I always told her, under this roof and within reason, she can indulge. She’s an adult by law but can’t buy a drink or rent a car. Rules don’t always make sense.”
You backed up as he knelt down and reached under the drawer and revealed a bright blue vodka drink. He stood and offered it to you. “You grabbing one for her too?”
“This is for her?” You hesitantly took the bottle. “Thanks.”
“Not much of a vacation,” He snickered.
“Water’s fine,” You backed up and started to close the fridge door. He caught it swiftly.
“You sure? I got beer?” He offered.
“No, really. I shouldn’t.”
He laughed and let go of the door. “You know, Kylie doesn’t usually have such straight-laced friends.”
“I’m not straight-laced,” You said. “I just...don’t want any.”
“No judgment from me,” He held his hands up as you stepped past him and grabbed your water. “Either way. Offer stands. Beer’s in the mini-fridge in the garage. Or you can try your luck at bartering a cooler off Kylie.”
“Thanks,” You were curt. You didn’t mean to be but the tension from earlier started to nip at you. These little run-ins were starting to be less spontaneous. His little jokes were not as amusing. Not so transparent.
You held the bottle under your arm as you slid shut the glass door behind you. You peered through it as you did and found Steve’s gaze well below your eye line. You turned quickly and acted like you didn’t notice. You didn’t. It was all your imagination. Surely, it had to be. If you couldn’t turn the heads of frat boys, you were nothing to the established suburban man.
-
You couldn’t sleep. You could blame the usual reticence of being in another’s house;the feeling of displacement that made it hard to settle down. Homesickness, even. But likely it was the argument that had ended your night. You came here to live it up with Kylie but she had other plans. Well, she always had other, better plans.
She was sneaking out to see Taylor. Not only were you offended that you were being ditched, you didn’t want to be dragged into her deceptions. It was one thing for her to lie to her dad but another for you to do it. As far as you were concerned, he was footing the cost of your visit and it was becoming more and more obvious. You felt more a boarder than a guest.
Of course, Kylie was stubborn. You never won an argument with her. She did as she pleased and you just rolled over. Fine, let her go out. If you were sent home early, maybe it was for the best. You were already dreading the pool party she had planned for the next night. For her it was a reunion, for you, a night of introductions. Those never went very well.
You pulled the pillow over your head and growled. Sleep, please. You wouldn’t be so mad in the morning and your anxiety would die down by the time of the party. Hopefully. Another fifteen minutes tossing and turning and you threw your pillow.
You grabbed your phone as you sat up and checked the time. One in the morning. Kylie had messaged you shortly after her escape. ‘Be back before morning’. Great, not vague at all. You rolled your eyes and dropped your phone onto the bed. You needed something to ease your nerves. Tire yourself out.
You didn’t bother flipping on the light. The moon streamed in through the open curtains and you searched out your most comfortable shorts and a tank top. You were glad you had the sense to pack a sports bra. You anticipated joining Kylie on one of her morning runs. She hadn’t yet woke up early enough for that.
You pulled on your sneakers and stood. You weren’t really a gym person but you might as well take advantage of it while you were here. You stepped out into the hall, keeping your footsteps light as you found the railing and carefully descended the stairs. Your eyes attuned to the dark and you were more confident in your path.
The gym was at the east end of the lower floor. You stopped at the end of the hall and listened. The echoes of your sneakers stoked your paranoia. Both Steve and Kylie welcomed you to enjoy the house’s perks. You were doing nothing wrong.
You opened the door and flicked on the light. You should’ve grabbed your phone. Music always went well with exercise. Oh well. You just wanted to work off some of this excess energy. You stretched and climbed onto the bicycle. It faced away from the door and out the large window that peaked out onto the finely trimmed garden. The yard was almost eerie at night. A labyrinth of shadows.
You pedaled for about ten minutes before you felt like falling off. Your muscles burned already. It might be a good idea to use the uni gym when you returned to campus. It was included in tuition and you’d hate to toss away money for nothing.
You kicked your legs back to their limit and the door clicked. You stopped suddenly and the pedals pushed on your feet uncomfortably. You peeked over your shoulder as the door opened. Steve looked surprised to find you there and his blue eyes flashed.
“Oh, sorry, thought maybe I left the light on,” He said. He wore nothing but a pair of dark blue shorts. A towel was over his broad shoulder and you made sure to keep your eyes above it. You untangled your feet from the pedals and stepped down from the bike with a small stumble. As graceful as ever.
“I was just...um, well, I couldn’t sleep, I thought…” You stuttered.
“It’s fine. That’s what it’s here for.” He smiled. “Must be contagious. I haven’t been able to settle down either.”
“Ah,” Your eyebrows twitched as you did your best to humour him.
“Heard the Mercedes about an hour ago. That didn’t help,” His voice turned stern. “Kylie thinks I still don’t know about that trellis she likes to climb down.” You glanced away guiltily. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you lie for her. I’m good at acting oblivious.”
You looked to him and frowned. “I told her not to go.”
“As I said, she’s an adult. You’re an adult,” He waved his hand nonchalantly, “I just happen to live here.”
You didn’t know what to say. You exhaled and glanced around the room. You were ready to go back to bed.
“Anyways, I didn’t mean to interrupt or reprimand you,” He pulled the towel from his shoulder and held it at his side. “Was just on my way to the hot tub and happened to see the light.”
Hot tub? You couldn’t help the tilt of your head. This house had everything.
“No worries,” You assured him, “I was just about done.”
“Oh yeah?” He planted an elbow on the door frame. Don’t look, you warned yourself. Don’t look at his chest. Or his abs. You didn’t know men as old as him had abs. “You’re welcome to...join me? Hot tub’s warmed up and ready to go.”
You chuckled nervously. “No, I don’t...I appreciate it but I don’t even have my suit.”
He raised a brow and thought. The corner of his mouth lifted just a little. “You don’t need it.”
You blinked. Then blinked again. You weren’t quite sure you got his meaning. Or you did and were in shock. Either way, all you could do was stare.
You giggled. It was nervous and shrill but it was all you could manage. Your eyes slipped and you saw the twitch in his shorts. Oh god, you were starting to get light-headed. You were asleep. Dreaming. Right?
You barely noticed as he stood straight and crossed the gym. As he neared, he reached behind you and draped his towel over bicycle seat. You wanted to step back but you couldn’t make yourself.
“It’s a vacation.” His hand was on your arm, “The hot water might even help you sleep. I’ve always been told as much.”
Your chest rose and fell and you murmured. There were no real words.
“It’s just a soak.” His voice was gristly.
You were so stupid. Your head snapped back and you shook away the clouds. You had totally misunderstood him. You were a fool.
“Uh, sure,” You shrugged but sounded less than casual. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t. I mean...it’ll be nice.”
“You’re tense,” He squeezed your arm and let go, “It’ll loosen you up.”
-
Just down the hall was the jacuzzi room. There was a small sauna at its far end. The hot tub was the centerpiece and filled the small space with steam. Steve waved you in first and closed the door behind him as he followed. He left his towel on the long bench beside the door and wasted no time in approaching the tub.
He walked down the steps and sighed as he settled against the wall of the tub. You wondered, even if you had wildly misunderstood him, if this was at all appropriate. Kylie wasn’t even here. That made it feel even worse.
You watched Steve stretch his arms across the lips of the jacuzzi and you pondered the rippling water. The jets were screaming your name.
You started with your sneakers and socks. Those were easiest. The tank top was harder. Your sports bra offered enough coverage but wasn’t as thick as your usual one. You rolled down your shorts to reveal your panties. It wasn’t much different than a bikini but the panties were a bit too short in the back. You kept your front to Steve as you approached the tub. You could feel your butt peeking out the bottom.
You slowly descended the steps. The water lulled away your nerves as you got deeper and waded over to the bench, just at the end of Steve’s reach. That was an acceptable distance. Not far enough to offend but not close enough to disturb.
His head was leaned back, eyes closed. He was entirely unbothered by your presence. Why did you always do this? You always got so worked up for nothing. It was nothing! You exhaled and relaxed against the tub. You let your arms fall to your side and the water embraced you.
But you still couldn’t relax. Your heart was beating so fast. You fidgeted every time you started to sink too far and finally you sat up. You crossed your legs and examined the wrinkles along your fingertips. You felt a warmth on your shoulder just above the water.
You looked over as Steve slid closer on the bench, his hand on your shoulder. “Just relax. Enjoy it,” He said, “Here, I’ve got this little trick for tension.”
He was right against you as his hands went to either side of your head, his arm bent around your shoulder. He pushed two fingers to both temples and rubbed.
“Come on. Close your eyes.”
You didn’t know why you listened. It was wrong for him to touch you like this. You should say no but this was his house. He invited you in here and you couldn’t turn him away.
He rubbed your temples and your heart slowed. Then his fingers tickled along your cheeks and he massaged the back of your neck with his thumbs. Then he moved to your shoulders, a hand slipped and his arm was around you. He pulled you close as he continued to work your muscles with one hand moving back and forth between your shoulder.
You leaned your head back against his arm and let out a long breath. You were almost suffocating as the heat of his body melded with that of the tub. You felt pressure on your lips and your eyes snapped open. He was kissing you. His hand drifted from your shoulder and cupped your breast through the thin sports bra. You were certain he could feel your nipple as it hardened.
Your eyelids fluttered and you brought your hand up between you. You pushed on his chest and he ran his tongue across your bottom lip. You pushed harder and finally he parted. He sat back but kept his arm around your shoulders.
“I…” You touched your chest just above the bra, your lip trembled. “I should go.”
You stood and he caught your wrist. He clung to you until you turned back. “You don’t have to. Kylie is gone, we’re all alone.”
“I...I can’t,” You wiggled your arm free of his grasp.
You turned and pushed your body through the water and dragged yourself along the metal railing. You didn’t look back. Only gathered your clothes and hurried to the door. The water stirred but he did not leave the tub.
“Goodnight,” Steve called as you opened the door. “See you tomorrow.”
You closed it behind you and nearly slipped on your wet feet. What did he mean? Was it a courtesy? A promise? A threat? You didn’t wait for the answer to come as you raced down the hall.
-
tags to be added in reblog
#dad!steve rogers x reader#dark!steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x reader#dark steve rogers x reader#dark!steve rogers#dark steve rogers#steve rogers#dad!steve rogers#fic#series#miniseries#au#dark!fic#dark fic#darkverse#dark!verse#mcu#marvel#captain america
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celestial (pt. 2) | kth (m)
↠ genre: (future) smut, angst, demon au, incubus!taehyung x f reader
↠ warnings: blood and violence
↠ length: 5.6k
↳ her flesh and blood imparts immortality to any demon, but the incubus protecting her from the hunt requires something else of her body.
↞ part 1 | masterlist | part 3 ↠
a/n: thanks for your patience! it’s always such a struggle to write the first couple parts bc it’s boring trying to introduce characters, concepts, etc. through exposition :(( but thank you for your feedback it’s been my favourite meal ❤️
She trembled at the sensation of his hot breath grazing her neck as he cascaded kisses and licks down the curve of her neck. His lips were soft, plump, and its departure from her skin nearly elicited a whine of discontent from her throat. But he closed right back in with the sensual tickle of wandering digits that drifted to the hem of her pants, curling around the waistband. She sighed in anticipation, feeling him drag the material down her hips.
Her eyes jolted open. A panic that electrified her body brought her to urgently sit up. Her tautness calmed when she realized she was in her own clothes and in her own bed with sheets that were fluffy. She pushed out a tired exhale as her head wilted on her shoulders, fingertips kneading her temples. It was really just a dream this time.
Her legs swung off the edge of the bed and her feet flattened against her floor when she paused.
The air was oddly quieter today.
She had awoken well into the afternoon, having only slept once the sun had risen. Neighbouring residents must’ve already been out enjoying their weekend then, leaving the dormitory vacant and quiet. But still, it was calmer. Too calm.
A tilt of her head out her agape bedroom window confirmed her suspicions. Accustomed to the years of waking up to unwelcomed monsters in her bedroom, outside her window, bordering her vicinity, silence and solitude stuck out like a sore thumb. For the first time, she registered what it was like to be completely alone. The stillness would’ve been solacing if it wasn’t more arrestingly unfamiliar and eerie.
She stared down at her bracelet and thumbed the mahogany beads, only now tangibly confronting their purpose in keeping her surroundings clear of demons. It only further hammered in the awareness of how real this all was, regardless if she wanted it to be or not.
Following was a tangle that tightened in her stomach, recalling her curt departure from the group of men that had essentially stood between her and the brink of death. They had stopped her from becoming a meal, aided her recovery, and evaporated away the big fat question mark that had branded her for as long as she could remember. They had even been anticipating and preparing for the dramatic change that would come with her 20th birthday for years. And her grand indebted response was to flee their estate.
However, a night to recover from pulsing temples and dwindling vision allowed her to better wrap her head around her new reality, once the overwhelming first impressions had subsided. Now, the guilt associated with a gratitude improperly expressed was the symptom that currently plagued her. Despite wanting to be far from the uncanny concepts revolving around her “celestial blood”, the girl had to admit she was unrested by how she left things after what they did for her, as accommodatingly as they could’ve been given the unforgiving circumstances.
That exact unrest somehow brought her to the front of the shrine. She hardly even remembered exactly how she ended up here. All she knew was an urge that drew her out of bed and arrived her just outside the gate of the sanctified establishment. She wasn’t equipped with a plan in the least, even her own intentions were unclear. Maybe there was something comforting about this place that magnetized her. Regardless, a thumping heart came with the uncertainty of what to do next as she stared on at the rustic and humble exterior.
A swift tension claimed her figure when the front door unexpectedly slid open. To relieve her of the pressure of initiating, Namjoon greeted her with a warm smile at the entrance. “Princess, happy to see you looking healthy.” Relief freshened his face upon sight of her coloured and glowing skin, opposite to the paleness that sullied her last night. He stepped down the porch stairs towards her.
Seokjin appeared and followed behind him. “How are you feeling?” his voice casted a gladness.
She could only return the welcome with widened eyes. “Good, better, I—how did you know I was here?”
“We could sense you,” Namjoon replied.
“We could actually smell you from the next street over,” Jungkook blurted from the front doors behind the pair of broad shoulders that arrived in front of her. The curious excitement to see her poured the rest of the residents out onto the porch. Even the incubus quietly leaned against the frame, face hardened by a stoic quality.
She avoided fixing on his gaze for too long. A hard gulp travelled down her throat. “S-Smell me?”
She had only now realized Seokjin and Namjoon had already began guiding her in past the gates and towards the rest of them.
Seokjin cocked his head in disapproval at the poor word choice from the youngest member. “He just means we as demons have heightened senses is all.”
“Did you come to stay for dinner with us?” Jimin’s fluffy locks bounced in rhythm to the beam playing in his voice.
With the generous vibrancy aimed directly at her, her jaw stuttered, uncertain if she could be accompanied by these handsome faces for the rest of the evening. “Oh, no, I… uh, I really just came to thank you guys for last night.” It was the lack of preparation for how the situation was going to unfold, the unfamiliarity in the demonstration of demons showing amiability, that flustered her so that the only speech she could form was splintered.
“Princess, I can hear your stomach growling,” he snickered in retort to her protest.
Her lips pursed in embarrassment as arms folded over her abdomen that apparently made noises she didn’t hear. “Please don’t call me that,” she muttered.
“Besides, we have a birthday cake for you!” Hoseok’s expression lit up with a broad grin.
“We’ve actually had the cake since last night. But then Taehyung brought you home bloody and unconscious, so we thought ‘Ah shit, you know what? Maybe now is not the best time’,” Yoongi deadpanned, earning himself an assembly of uncertain and disbelieved looks from his housemates, all of which failed to faze him. Only, except the sombre Taehyung, who instead wordlessly left and returned inside.
She took a second to silently acknowledge to herself his withdrawal before Yoongi’s refreshingly brutal honesty elicited a snort from her. Her taut lips smoothed into a soft smile. “You guys got me a cake? That’s…” a warmth blossomed across the plump of her cheeks as she peered back at the bright eyes looking at her, “so sweet.”
With everything that had occupied her, it had once again slipped from her mind this special day for her. While she had forgotten about it, they had already intended a celebration for it. It seemed as though everyone had remembered about her birthday except her, but that might’ve been because the mass majority of the demon kind had been anticipating this day much more than she ever could.
Nevertheless, barely more than strangers or not, how could she refuse them when they’ve bought her cake?
“Oh, no, maybe you should…” she gasped and reached towards Namjoon. Knife in hand, he was struggling to steady the halved onion as it wobbled on its rounded side atop the cutting board. “Lay it down on its flat side so you don’t cut yourself.” Flipping it to lie level to the plank, she lightly tittered as he shame-facedly nodded in illumination to her insight.
Surrendering to their insistent invitation to dinner, the household was bustling in meal preparation now, with Jimin and Hoseok setting the table, Jungkook and Yoongi in the kitchen assisting Seokjin in cooking, and Namjoon apathetically casted aside to occupy himself with some novice onion chopping for his own safety and of those around him. Adamant in barring the birthday girl from doing any sort of labour at her own celebration, her persistence earned her the minute responsibility of seeing through that Namjoon doesn’t miraculously burn the sacred shrine down. Taehyung was nowhere in sight.
“Jungkook, did you pick up green onions from the store like I asked?” Seokjin’s eyes narrowed under furrowed brows as he searched the open fridge.
“Yup.” The youngest sauntered over and dragged out two separate bags of green stem bunches from the crisper drawers. “I couldn’t figure out which of the two were green onions, so I bought both.”
Seokjin’s tongue prodded his teeth in aggravation as he glanced into the plastic sacks. “Amazing, because you still managed to fuck up,” he huffed, following an exacting tone. “You didn’t buy green onions. These are chives and leeks.”
Jimin’s face of mischief peeked into the kitchen, a howl of mocking laughter readying at the tip of her tongue. “Dude, you don’t know what green onions are?”
“Why the shit do they all look the same?” the youngest cried in disbelief.
“Jungkook, you know there are signs there for you to read, right? They’re there to help you, right?” Yoongi paused in his soup brewing to squint with genuine perplexity.
“Shut up, I’ll go buy the right ones,” the latter grumbled vexingly.
A sigh rasped in Seokjin’s throat as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “God, no. Your fuckass is probably going to come back with eggplants or something if I let you go again. It’s fine, leeks will do.” With a glare, he antagonistically grabbed the bags of failure from Jungkook, whose eyes were stained with a venomous glower.
The girl was slightly taken back at the hostility that was a possibility amidst everyone’s kind spirit, all the while having to stifle amused chuckles at their childish quarrel. She turned back to Namjoon, who remained quiet and uninvolved towards the spat in reflection of the deflating spiritual exhaustion he was unfortunately accustomed to. He promptly moved on.
“We’re sorry about last night. I know it must’ve all been very overwhelming, and god did we wish it could’ve happened differently,” he sighed with an apologetic shake of his head.
The edge of the kitchen counter nuzzled her hip as she leaned against it, peering up at him as his wrist gingerly rocked the chopping knife against the vegetables. “Not at all. I should really thank you guys for taking me in after… that.” Her fingers curled into fists, her arms enveloped her chest, a cold sweat casted over her skin. Images of the unparalleled, gruesome face of the monster child was perpetually singed into the back of her mind. She took a slow breath. “I was a mess last night and couldn’t properly tell you how grateful I was… am.”
His volume sympathetically softened, “And Taehyung is… the way he is,” his head cocked and his lips shrugged, “but he means well, believe it or not. When he brought you home yesterday, he was pretty hard on himself for allowing you to get hurt. I think he’s still beating himself up over it, thinking ‘if he had been on time’…” There was a brief darkness that draped over his eyes that kept her tension steadfast.
The same bead bracelet that he wears wasn’t just to bound him as her familiar, it was also to contain his strength, Namjoon continued to explicate. Taehyung might’ve been chosen because of his inborn incredible strength, but if it weren’t for the limitations of the bracelet, he’d probably surpass the combined strength of the remaining six of them.
A gloom tautened Namjoon’s face, seemingly reminiscing something unpleasant.
Before Taehyung had met them, he was a recklessly freewheeling teenager, getting irrepressibly stronger and stronger as he matured. More and more, controlling his powers and impulses as an incubus slipped from his grip, and he began killing demons and mortals left and right, sucking their life energy until they were dry. Behind his untamed violence, though, the monk saw a scared kid who was a slave to his own unhinged force, and decided to take him in. Curbing Taehyung’s strength and training him for years to instead channel it into being a familiar and protector, he’d learn the values of self-control and his priority of the celestial mortal’s safety. Now, he wears the beads without a thought of removing it, in fear of unleashing what’s been bottled and hurting those around him with it.
Her apprehensive fingers tweezed the side seams of her shirt. There was a tightening at the edge of her throat as she recalled the vague visual of his bare fists cutting through a skull and leaving a cavernous pit where a face used to be. And that might’ve only been a pedestrian demonstration of the whole of his power.
She sucked on her cheeks, now reading the incubus’s earlier withdrawal and absence as a by-product of blame. There might’ve been a twinge of remorse for snippily kicking him out last night after all he had done to save her. “Where might he be now?” she tentatively inquired.
A pace down a suggested hallway brought her to the shrine’s back doors that opened out to a picturesque stretch of courtyard, inviting in breezes of grass-scented air and staging the colours and bounty blossoming in the early summer weather. Taehyung sat on the bordering steps leading down into the backyard, his back turned to her. She didn’t need to warn of her presence with the tread of her foot or the clearing of her throat when he interrupted the still silence with the slight turn of his head to meet her eyes.
A fleeting yet palpable shudder coursed her spine when his arresting face recapped the unsolicited, sensual dream that she awoke from this morning, which she hastily worked to suppress. Even more aggressive was the subdual of the reminder that he had previously stripped her naked and tasted her skin with the run of his lips. It was to stop the bleeding, she tried to remind herself in good faith.
His illegible gaze lingered as his lips remained unmoving, and it grew a crippling fluster within her. She tore her eyes away to fix on the ground instead. “Dinner’s almost ready. They wanted me to come get you,” her rigid words scarcely left the edge of her tight mouth.
The familiar’s voice and expressions continued in its absence. He turned back around.
She sighed with a step forward. “Listen, I know I’ve been—”
“I’m sorry, you know.”
He remained still, his murmurs quiet, nearly getting lost in the soars of the wind. The girl paused in her tracks, taken aback by the unanticipated tone of sincerity, playing the unanticipated words of apology.
“If I had just gotten there in time, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. I’m sorry I let that happen.”
Taehyung wasn’t one with a way with words, clear in the way his speech was muffled and tentative as they were forced out past lips that were only sparingly ajar, constrained by a tautened jaw. Nonetheless, the regret that his voice conveyed was vivid. It delivered a heaviness upon her for having misinterpreting his character completely.
The beats in her chest accelerated and moisture took over her palms, but she swallowed as she continued in her plod forward. His stare lifted to her as she sat down next to him. It was only then did she realized she had never looked at him long before a rattled retreat stole her gaze away. It had kept her from catching the gentle quality hiding in the vast of his irises that, though were still piercing, adorned a deep brown colour instead of a sharp crimson.
“Whatever happened, happened,” she started before hesitation caught up with her and prescribed a belated translation of her thoughts. “But, I’m still sitting here, with all of me still intact, because of you. So… thank you.”
Their eyes kept their affixation on one another. The surrounding hush seemingly began to escalate to a deafening roar. The mesmerizing web of bronzed pleats in his irises were easy to get lost in, threatening of an unyielding capture. She almost didn’t register it when he inched forward ever so slowly, until she felt his temperature closing in on her, with the palpable daubs of his breaths that tantalized the surface of her skin. Nearer were the pillows of his lips, framed by sharp edges that she could never decipher, especially when they moved to intrude the calm air with a rasping whisper.
“Are you going to thank me properly, then?”
Her respires idled at the cap of her throat as she lagged in grasping his query, to which he exploited with the stretch of his palm fastening down on her hip. Her chest relentlessly drummed as immobility claimed her limbs.
Taehyung leaned in more, so her ear could capture him in his full husk. “It’s been years since I’ve had my energy refilled,” Taehyung almost growled. “Just a kiss will do... for now.”
Hair’s breadth away from her neck, she could almost feel the plump of his lips shape against her skin. A foreign feeling she’s never known before clung to her bones, like a simmering of an unignorable, unparalleled, unescapable need that appropriated the control of her own body. She quivered as the apparent otherworldly force within her hungered to melt into his instigation.
But…
Right.
He is an incubus after all.
Nearly gasping as if she was finally surfacing for air from a smother, her hands splayed across his chest to thrust him away. “Fucking Christ, you’re full of shit,” she hissed, exasperated, leaping to her feet.
“What if we doubled down on security?” Namjoon’s words made garbled by a mouthful of cake toppled from lips that pursed to catch crumbs before they fell. The vague proposal made the girl stiffen in her chair with cheeks that were already rosy from the birthday song that had just unsolicitedly sprung on her. “Is Taehyung alone enough to keep an eye on her 24/7?”
“What, like, should we enrol as students at her college?”
“I’m too old and withered to try to fit in with a bunch of doe-eyed, spring chickens.”
“Exactly. And then what? Apply to be her roommates?”
“I mean, that’s not a bad idea. Taehyung as her roommate could keep him close without seeming suspicious.”
“I don’t think her dorms are co-ed.”
“Yeah, and Taehyung is nearly six feet with hips like a plank board and ass that wouldn’t bounce the quarter but miss it entirely. He could never pass as a girl.”
“Jimin probably could.”
“Me? But Yoongi’s got the legs for it.”
The aforementioned cocked his brow in doubt, mouth opening in protest when he stopped and looked down at his legs. The rebuttal dissolved from his face and relaxed with a shrug of agreement instead. He did have nice legs.
Everyone contributed except for her familiar, but she couldn’t bring herself to his eyes the entire dinner. “Guys, guys, please, I don’t think that’s necessary,” her hands waved with rejection front of her insistently.
Hoseok nodded regretfully, sighed, and apologized on for them trying to make decisions revolving her life without a request for her discretion. Even then, it didn’t stop Taehyung from joining her side heading to lecture come Monday morning. Her classmate was nowhere in sight.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Unforgiving murmurs filtered past gritted teeth when he followed all the way to the seat beside her in class.
“I’m here to learn about the range of our responsibilities and civil rights as we confront moral—the fuck do you think I’m here for? I’m here to make sure no one else takes a chomp out of you again,” he hissed in retort, shrill with sarcasm, slumped back in his chair.
“I don’t need—“
The incubus straightened in his seat when the professor and his couple of teaching assistants entered to commence lecture. There was something cold in the way his gaze narrowed as he eyed the teaching team. The timeline of class discourse didn’t leave a lot of room and volume for her to further discuss—rather, argue with him. Even more so when, at the dismissal of class, he got right up and treaded down the steps towards the front of the class without a warning of his intensions to her
She watched as he caught the gaze of one of the TA’s, Sunmi, the pretty one with sharp eyes and cascading locks of lush, as he took assertive strides towards her. With his back to her and the distance between rendering their conversation inaudible, she intently squinted to investigate a purpose. What she found was a shift in the woman’s body language when her lips curled into something coy and her fingers laced around the waves of her hair.
Grimacing, she shrank back in presumption of the provocative nature in their exchange. Quickly, she was introduced to doubt that he could be capable of anything beyond his impulses as an incubus. If she wasn’t going to provide what he needed, then he must be exploiting the new hunting grounds, where he’s found his next prey.
“Please just don’t hurt her.” Something between a sigh and a grumble escaped her lips before he could complain about her disappearing when he caught up to her in her next class. He had found her all too easily, sniffing her out in the vastness of the campus and its attendants strangely quick.
“What?”
“My TA,” her voice fell to an intimate volume when the professor started lecture. “I know you’ve got needs. Whatever you want from her, just don’t hurt her.”
A disbelieved huff rocked his head in exasperation. “She’s a demon.”
Shock swelled her eyes open.
“I came to give her a warning. She insisted she doesn’t plan on hurting you. Steer clear of her anyway.”
Even at a hush, his words laden with vex straightened her forward and sank her in her seat, tautening her with a shame for misreading the situation so grossly. The pen in her digits hovering above her notebook fluttered fitfully.
“Besides,” the familiar demanded her attention right back when he seized her wrist, his other hand jutting an antagonistic finger at the air above her bracelet. “This means I don’t gain anything from anyone else but you. You know I belong to only you, right?”
Fuck.
He had to go and say gratuitously arresting words like that and now she was impeaching her own heart for beating so quick and her face for being vulnerable to a rosy flush while her betraying thoughts echoed reminders of demons having augmented senses. She didn’t even want to breathe in case the stammers in her respires was a ten-fold blare to the opposition.
Choi Minho ([email protected]) [4:53pm]: The argumentation assignments have been marked and will be ready for pick up in office hours. I’ll be extending mine for another hour if you’re still on campus and would like them immediately. Otherwise, they’ll be available in Sunmi’s office hours starting tomorrow. Good work, everyone!
The conclusion of her day was kept from dismissal in receipt of an email that underlyingly warned of a brief window in which she could avoid receiving her grade from the other TA – the demon. It’s not like she truly did fear that Sunmi’s intentions superimposed with her mortal demise, but she thought she should cautiously heed her familiar’s warning as her ignorant kindness had already betrayed her previously.
Taehyung had left her alone for the rest of the day, but having spotted him lounging in the thick of a tree branch that towered over the window of one of her classrooms, she knew he was close by. So, she desperately adhered to that reassurance when she knocked on Minho’s office door and Sunmi answered instead.
“Hey! Here for your argumentation assignment?” she welcomed with a grin, unflinching in contrast to her opposite.
With the unexpectant keeping her breath captive at the edge of her throat, the girl didn’t respond. Just as detained by anxiety were her limbs that were uncertain in how to follow when Sunmi walked back around to the office desk splayed by wads of paperwork. She was chilled by the exemplification of how well supernatural beings melded in with plain sight. Throughout the semester, along with the email exchanges and the trading of friendly passing-by smiles, not once had she suspected that the teaching assistant she shared mornings with three times a week was a demon. She thought the only unhuman thing about her was her ethereal beauty.
The tutor's bewitching gaze searched for hers when she remained by the door. “Well, come in. I don’t bite,” she chuckled. “Minho just took a quick bathroom break and asked if I could tag in for a few minutes.”
Is she really not going to address the elephant in the room?
She watched as the TA plucked a grape from her Tupperware to drop into her mouth. She ate human food, and the student hoped it coincided with her abstinence from human meat, just like Taehyung and them.
“I remember marking yours. It was impressive.” Sunmi had her eyes down at the stack of assignments that she flipped through, which prompted the latter to consider the lack of a hungry glare fixed on her. “Ah, here,” she pulled out one decorated by an attractive grade.
A startled gladness brightened the girl’s eyes, shocked that her work laced with time-crunched panic had still earned her a grade as lavish as that. She took a step closer to verify the mark
“It was well structured, you made some strong points, and your conclusion was thoughtful. The only criticism I have is in your second point.” Sunmi flipped to the appropriate page and her polished nail gestured to the exert in question. The other girl moved closer to follow. “Your opening here is a statement rather than an argument opposing the claim, which steered you towards a doubtful warrant. Apart from this, you have an excellent paper.”
She replied to the TA’s praise with a bashful smile. A couple more strides closed their distances so she could receive the assignment extended out to her. “Thank you, I’m—”
Her proximity brought into her line of view the opened laptop on the desk. Displaying was an email browser. Logged in was Choi Minho’s account.
It wasn’t Minho who sent out the email.
Everything spun and a pang struck the back of her head. A couple blinks weren’t enough to straighten her oscillating vision, but her affixed wrists above her head and the silhouette hovering over her were enough to interpret that she had been thrown down and pinned to the surface of the desk.
“S-Sunmi?” The bewilderment crippling her volume rendered a whimper hardly penetrative to the air between them. Her eyes settled only to instill dread within her when she watched youthful brown eyes mutate to an eerie yellow, the blacks narrowing to menacing slits. Her black hair blanched to a silver and proliferated in length until it draped along her sides and blanketed her victim in a sleek smother. The girl struggled, but paled in competence against the unfaltering force. Apprehensive quakes swathed her when a scaly hand gripped her jaw to lock her head in place.
“God, you smell so fucking good.” Ravenous hisses were punctuated by the slithers of a thin, forked tongue in and out of a fang-bearing mouth. The graze of her nose dragged against her jaw, then the outline of her neck.
“No, please,” she feebly begged. However, the greed, the appetite, the animalistic keen in the aura that pinned her down bordered near a promise of trepidation, and it made her eyes stung with hot tears. The laden terror weakened her with nausea when Sunmi boasted her sharp smirk that outlined threatening fangs before they dipped down towards her clavicle. She gasped with a scream preparing to leap from the edge of her lips, “Taehy—!"
Her breath hitched when the daggers broke skin. A deafening pain swallowed her entirety in quavers. But just as quick, the fangs were wrenched away.
A stillness, a soundlessness settled down in the air around her. She was alone. There was a slight draft that wasn’t there before, or maybe the fright made her body tremor with a chill.
Taehyung.
Weakly, the pads of her fingers travelled to gingerly dab at the ache on her neck. The demon hadn’t completely buried herself into her skin, and so left hardly anything more than a couple of nicks. So, why was the ache thundering through her veins as agonizing as it was? Her digits drew away and hovered over her face, telling a story of the light trickles of viscous crimson that dyed her skin.
She fought the limpness that threatened to colonize control over her movements as she struggled to pull herself up, only to tumble off the edge of the wood and slump to the cold, unwelcoming floor instead. Panting as the pain was ensnaring the stability of her vision now, she pushed herself off the floor and pulled towards the frame of the window that was now open.
The sound of Taehyung throwing open the office window behind the desk and dragging the assailant out must’ve gotten lost in her shrill sheath of fear, because when managing to gather her torso onto the sill, she found the incubus and snake-like woman moving in blurs produced by inhuman speed in the vacant lot of gravel five storeys below. Although in a dizzy haze that couldn’t keep up, she couldn’t neglect the hostility plastered on the familiar’s face. An acquainted red glowed in his irises.
Sunmi proved to be a capable opponent as the two donned tatters in their clothing and scrapes on their surface, yet neither had incapacitated the other. That is, until Taehyung with peaked fury hurled her across the field and she destructively collided with a tree. Seemingly in a fraction of a second, he closed their distances and she doubled over with a choked grunt.
When his hand retreated and dripped with streams of blood, blood that wasn’t his own, it was resolved that he had burrowed his fist into her abdomen. Sunmi hissed, hands folding over the gape left over. She must’ve understood the odds were no longer in her favour, because when a gust blew, she disappeared with it.
His glare darted back in forth in searching before ultimately cursing for letting her get away. Though, the damage done was near irreparable, so she shouldn’t make it too far before expiration catches up to her.
Sighing with relief, the girl fell to her knees and wilted against the wall. The roaring ache was subsiding now, and control of her own limbs was returning to her. Her familiar somehow scaled over the window and joined her side in a blink. He panted, and she almost didn’t recognize the concern and guilt that plagued his face.
“Are you okay?” Taehyung carefully reached his fingers out to embrace her jaw and tilt her head so he could observe her wound. His eyes softened back to the normal brown.
Her feeble and unsteady fingers gripped onto the cuffs of his sleeves, suddenly shivering in the relieving sensations of security allying with his presence. For the first time, she yearned for the warmth he offered, and she learned into it. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Surprisingly, she found a voice, although frail.
“I came here as fast as I could, as soon as I sensed she was close to you. And I was still late.”
She swallowed dryness at his tone darkened by a self-chastisement. “You’re here now and I’m safe. You came before she did a lot of damage – just a couple scratches. I’m not even bleeding anymore.”
His gaze found hers, and it seized her respires to see a glimpse of tender eyes. Her grip found his shoulders and tightened when he took her into his arms and stood up, carrying her effortlessly. He set her down on the desk, his hips against her knees when he closed in and his digits moved to undo the top buttons of her shirt. She gasped, limbs saturated with tension. “What are you—?”
He paused and glanced with firm eyes that sent a voltage down her spine.
Right.
She gulped and retired her resistances for him to dip his head and nuzzle her neck with his nose. His sturdy hands gripped her waist and fixed her in place. Then, he once again introduced ache when his tongue dabbed at the bite marks. He moved in deeper against her skin with the drag of his mouth and the swirls of the wet muscle in between, and she threw her head back in a squirm. Her lips pursed in attempt to muffle the whines that tried to escape. Nails digging along the slopes of his back, his lapping, gentle suckling slowly began to soothe. With pleasantness taking over, replacing the hurt with relief, her head felt light again and a pant made her chest rise and fall.
Taehyung broke away from her healed skin with a hot sigh that grazed her sensitivity, prompting her to press her thighs together.
In the gradual descent into bliss, the phantom sensations of his soft, plump lips kissing her skin lingered, and it felt so compatible, belonged. But she’ll never admit it aloud.
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little games
richie tozier x reader
– Part V || ⋆ Introduction ⋆ Part I ⋆ Part II ⋆ Part III ⋆ Part IV ⋆ Part V (more to be released)
– Synopsis: After the most recent prank Richie pulled, the last thing you expected was to be hanging out with him. It wasn’t by choice, but still. This trip to the quarry is going to be a long one.
– Notes: so sorry it took me this long to update guys! i took a bit of a break but i’m back into the swing of things with fanfiction. as always, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!! (also, i realized im really poor at updating the tag list, so if you’ve asked me to tag you and i haven’t just give me a lil reminder and i’ll try to be better with it) (also, abuse tw in the first little bit, and abuse mentions later on)
The pain was unbearable.
You had felt pain before, but never to this extent. Your head was screaming, splitting, sickening. You wondered if the force in which you had hit the wall had cracked your skull. Possibly cracked other parts of your body, and the drywall itself. And was that blood? It was hard to tell; your vision was cutting out.
You could hear her yelling, though the ringing in your ears was too loud to decipher the actual words. It was probably the same as always, however. Even through the blinding pain, such sayings had been ingrained into your memory for years.
Something touched your arm and you instinctively coiled back, weakly, from fear and the sudden pain that shot through it. Did that get injured too? A new face invaded the blurry scene in front of you, as hands gripped your face gently, a deeper, more reassuring voice cutting past the yelling woman. You swore you heard more voices enter the house before everything went black.
Rising with a cold, frigid scream, you were unsure if it was residual fear from your reoccurring nightmare or the cold ass fucking water that had just been doused all over you.
You were going to go with the latter.
A hand quickly clapped over your mouth, stifling your scream, as the face of Richie goddamn Tozier got way to close for comfort. His too big glasses that framed his alarmed, yet oh-so-amused eyes, began to slip slightly down his nose as he had the gall to shush you. Not to be cliché or anything, but the fucking nerve of that kid!
“I’m going to remove my hand, but you gotta be quiet or your aunt’s gunna come up here,” he harshly whispered, as your eyes drilled into his. You hoped he understood just how annoyed you were. This was almost as bad as your nightmare. Almost. Letting out a huff of air, you gave a brief nod of your head, and Richie tentatively pulled his hand away, not moving back an inch from his close position. Still aggravated, and entirely drenched, you lifted your arm up and put your whole hand over his face, pushing him away as you simultaneously sat up. He smacked it away.
“What the hell do you think you're doing, and was the water really necessary?” you bit out, throwing the covers off of you as you climbed out of bed, shivering as you made your way over to grab a hoodie that had been thrown over your desk’s chair. “How the hell did you even get in here? Why are you here?” you questioned, slipping it over your head and still giving him a death glare, no matter how weak it was in your tired state.
“Well I was bound to make you wet eventually, the water just sped the process up a bit,” the boy snickered. Feeling heat rise to your cheeks at the comment, you quickly reached over to grab a notebook and throw it full force at his stupid head. Bound to eventually. Ha! You knew he was an idiot, but now he was delusional as well.
Catching it before it could hit him, he fumbled with it for a second before it dropped to the ground. “I got in through your window. Come on, we’re playing hookie from school.”
Yep. Totally delusional.
“No,” you stated definitely, crossing your arms in front of your chest as the two of you had an intense stare down. “No way.” What the hell was going on? The last time you had even talked to Richie was last Friday when he had been over to your house, confronting your cousin. You had played it fairly cool then, but as soon as the trashmouth had left, you reamed Bill out. Yeah, what Richie said was decent of him, but did that make you friends? Nuh-uh.
“Well, I already called you in, so it’s either you come with me, or I spend all day here. I always was Bill’s Moms favourite, I wonder how she’s doing—“ he spoke, moving lazily towards your door. You heart leaped out of your chest as you reached out to grip his upper arm. Aunt Sharon could not find out he was up here. Oh God, what would she think?
“Don’t even think about it,” you hissed, jerking him back towards you, before dropping your hand as if touching him would corrode your fingers off. “How could you call me in? Full offense, but you don’t sound anything like Sharon or Zack,” you stated, crossing your arms once again and pulling your hands into the sleeves of your hoodie to warm them up. Richie quirked an eyebrow. “Wanna bet?” he smiled, before straightening his back and pulling a face you assumed was meant to read ‘aged dad’ but came across more like a poor man’s Robert De Niro. “Yes, Hello? I’m Y/N L/N’s guardian. Yes, Zack Denbrough. They seemed to have—” putting up your hand in order to cut him off, you had heard enough. It wasn’t the most spot-on impression, but damn, over a scratchy phone, even you would have been fooled.
“Alright, alright, I get it you asshole,” you grumbled out, while he simply continued to smirk. “But seriously. Crawl back out of the window where you came from. I’m going to go to school, I’ll just tell the front office I feel better or something,” you shrugged, moving over to your drawers to pull out some clothes to change into. Not that you would while Richie was still there.
“If this is about your math test, this sick day will at least give you one more day to study for it,” Richie commented. Math test? What math test, you didn’t remember there being a math test— oh shit. Oh fuck. With everything that had happened last Friday and the stress of getting over it on the weekend, you had totally forgotten. Your face must have displayed the clear panic you had felt, as Richie stepped up to you with a wide, toothy, Cheshire grin as he stated, “you forgot, didn’t you? Well, now you have no choice but to skip with me.”
“I hate you.”
“That’s the spirit!” Richie declared, “now get dressed. Something hot. You are hanging out with me, after all,” he commented, as he moved over to your drawers, utterly disregarding the clothes you had already pulled out. You grabbed him by the back of his t-shirt and tugged him back, shoving him towards your open window. “Why would I dress nicely when you didn’t provide me the same courtesy?” you deadpanned, pointing out the window. “Now get out while I change. I’ll meet you down there.”
“As you wish,” Richie commented, giving a rather shit elaborate bow before hopping right out the way he came. Why were you doing this? Why did you agree? Why the hell did he offer? You two could barely stand to be in the same room with each other, and he wanted to spend the day recreating Ferris Bueller’s Day Off? You didn’t trust it. The smart idea would be to lock your window and brace going to school and taking the (probable) fail on your math test. But damn, if your curiosity wasn’t getting the best of you. Whatever prank Richie inevitably had planned, you were going to win. You half expected that by not going with him, that was admitting defeat.
You wouldn’t dare do that.
Quickly stripping off your wet clothes, you threw on a simple t-shirt and jeans, before grabbing the towel off the back of your door and rubbing your still damp hair with it. You had no time to fully dry or tame the locks, so the sun outside would have to do.
Sighing as you made your way over to your window, you quietly squirmed your way out, dropping down the short way from the ledge to the ground. “Ready?” Richie questioned, slinging his arm over your shoulder. “Let’s get this day over with,” you mumbled, shrugging his arm right off as you waited for him to lead the way.
“What is this place?” You questioned, as you gazed over the cliff to the calm water below. It had only just turned into fall, so the air was crisper than usual. You regretted not wearing a sweater. “I know we don’t get along, but I didn’t expect you to murder me,” you added, twisting the look over your shoulder. Richie rolled his eyes as he stepped next to you. “It’s the Quarry. All of us used to hang out here a bunch when we were kids. Not so much anymore, but in the summers sometimes it’s nice to come back here.”
Making a small “ah,” noise, you nodded before looking back to the water below again. It was… nice. You could see why it could be a better hang out spot than anywhere in town. Imagining all seven of them here wasn’t that hard. Made you kind of wish you had grown up here instead. With them. As much as you had become friends with the rest of the Losers’ Club, you still felt a bit like an outsider. You hadn’t fully let them in yet, and until you did, you’d always just be skimming on the edge, peering in, wishing and hoping.
The thought of that made your heart ache just the slightest bit.
After about three minutes of just silence, you felt an overwhelming urge to say something. So, out came the first thing that your mind thought was appropriate to bring up. “Thanks for saying that to Bill,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself and tucking your hands under your arms. “The other night,” you quickly added, as if it really needed clarification.
Shrugging his shoulders, the boy in the vibrant floral shirt sat down on the dirt covered ground, letting his legs hang off the cliff’s edge. Hesitantly, you joined him. “Well it’s true,” he quipped, putting his weight on his arms as he leaned slightly back. “But seriously. If I ever step too far, just tell me. I understand that some shit just can’t be touched." A little more quietly, he added, "trust me.”
Turning to look at him, you studied his face. You were shocked to see the small look of sincerity etched on his features. Maybe he did understand. No one should, but maybe he did. And maybe that made you two more alike than you ever cared to admit.
Not thinking it the time or the place to ask him what he meant by that, you decided on a question with less emotional implication.“Why are we here, Richie?” Your voice was just barely loud enough to hear over the wind as it picked up.
“I don’t know," he stated, "honestly. It felt weird knowing you hadn’t seen this place yet.” Odd reasoning. Turning your gaze towards him, you gave him a questioning look, prompting him to elaborate further. He returned it with a glance of minor exasperation.
“You’ve been here for a month and already you’ve squirmed your way into the group. This place just seems like part of the group, I guess.” He huffed out, a small crease appearing on his forehead. Apart of the group? How could you be apart of the group if not everyone had accepted you yet?
“But you hate me.”
Whipping his head in your direction, that statement seemed to have caught him off guard. Giving your own look of disbelief, you let out a small laugh as you stated, “what? I mean, it’s no secret that we kind of like giving each other shit every day.” Richie snorted, shaking his head like you were the idiot. You took offense to that more than anything he had done thus far.
“Baby cakes, if I hated you, do you really think we’d be here right now?”
Trying to force yourself not to kick him in the shin over the nickname, you bit your retort back and thought about it for a second. He was right, you guessed. But then again, you were here, and didn’t you hate him? Now, you weren’t so sure.
“It’s just fun pranking you. I was the only interesting thing is this boring town before you came along. Still am, but you’re moving up in the ranks.” Smacking his arm lightly, you couldn't stop the half smirk that quirked up your lips. “Ha ha,” you sounded out sarcastically, turning to look back over the cliff. “You keep running your mouth Tozier, and I’ll find a way to shut you up for good.”
“Is that a promise?”
Turning back to glance at him, your mouth slightly gaped open. Taking in his impish look as he simply smiled your way, you instinctively leaned in closer to him, lowering your voice slightly as you stated, “I never break a promise.”
And it was true.
With that, you gave him the slightest little shove forward, making him tumble down to the inevitably freezing cold water below. Standing up, you dusted the dirt off your pants and smiled down at Richie as his moppy haired head sprang up from underneath the water, gasping for breath. Payback was a real bitch.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at school, Rich,” you called down to him.
Even though he flipped you off in return, the wide, laughing grin he shot your way was hard to miss.
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The Four Swords, Chapter 6: The Mansion of Lord Lester
What follows is the sixth installment of the Hero of Morderan series. If you liked it, consider following me here and on Twitter @heroofmorderan. Share with friends, and let me know what you think! New chapters are released on the 1st and 15th of each month, enjoy!
We walked around the perimeter of the gate to the back of the building. The only exterior windows were on the second floor, too high for either of us to reach. We ended up getting lucky, though. At the back of the mansion, there was a small grate on the floor, leading into what was some kind of basement. The coast was clear, so we jumped the fence and approached the grate.
Breaking in turned out to be the easy part, figuring out what to do next was going to be the challenge. A creature had summoned something from fire back in the park, then came to the mansion of Lord Lester, the man in charge of the town, who conveniently went to Vastfield around the time all this started. Do you think I was suspicious? I was suspicious. Esmerelda told us earlier that leaving was a thing he did sometimes, to lend aid to the new city, but I don’t buy it. Vastfield is too big and rich for some guy from a small town to be their advisor.
So, then we were in Lord Lester’s basement. It was gross, and if you remember, I was once surrounded by humanoid lizard egg sacks, so turns out I know what gross is. It smelled terrible, all humid and moldy, like no one had come down here since it was built. Dust covered the shelves and boxes. The cold stone floor rounded out the uncomfortable and generally unpleasant basement setting. I opened a few crates sitting around, just books and plates, some tools and gardening equipment, nothing too out of the ordinary. It looked to be a storage space for things never used.
When we finished being unsatisfied with the basement, we crept up the short flight of steps to the closed door at the top. Taking a moment to listen, we only heard a silent, still air on the other side. It wasn’t a question of if something was in the house, but where. After instinctually checking for traps, I slowly pushed the door open.
The basement opened to a living room. The moonlight shining through the drawn curtains casted shadows over the furniture on top of the area rug. I felt cold, something was wrong. Then it occurred to me: nothing’s wrong, and that’s exactly what’s wrong. The rest of the town is destroyed, why is the mansion so organized and clean?
On the left wall of the living room was a painting. It was a man in full armor, posing with a sword. He had flowing blond hair, and his emerald green eyes looked off into the distance. He had a small scar under his left eye. On the bottom of the frame was a small plaque: “Lord Lester”. The front door was here, too, presumable locked. Across the room was a set of stairs leading up to the next floor.
Moving through the living room, we found what must have been the dining room. The long oak table was set with detailed china. More plates and cups filled a cupboard on the wall. With every step I took, I expected to encounter that creature. My hand never left my sword. Looking back on it, I think that was the first time I broke into someone’s house. I know it’s wrong, but it was kind of fun. I liked seeing what kind of stuff people have in their home. It’s not like I’m going to pick it up as a hobby, but if a mission calls for it, I won’t have a problem volunteering.
The last room on the ground floor was a kitchen. It had the kinds of things you would expect, a nice fireplace and cauldron, knives on the table, but there were also things I’ve never seen in a kitchen before. There were herbs and some kind of clear liquid in vials. Curtlik didn’t know what it was, but thought we shouldn’t mess with it. I took a vial when she wasn’t looking.
There was also a cupboard in the kitchen. It had more ingredients and food, so we decided it was alright to stock up for future meals. While we were searching, we found this interesting bandanna. It was leather, with yellow spirals around the circumference.
“What’s this?” I asked Curtlik.
“I don’t know, some kind of bandanna.” She answered.
“Why is in the pantry?”
“I don’t know, maybe Lester was hiding it?” She was turning it over in her hands, it was a weird thing.
“Should we take it?” I’ll admit, I was getting excited about taking stuff. I may have gotten carried away.
“Don’t you think that’s wrong?” Curtlik questioned, now untying the bandanna and wrapping it around her arm.
“I mean, it’s here. And this guy doesn’t seem that great, so why not?”
“But I mean, morally. We’re supposed to be good and helping, should we really also be stealing?” Curtlik had a point, but I really wanted it. Sure, it was probably silly that we started debating morality in the pantry of some guys mansion, but at least there wasn’t a wolf with us.
“What if we give it back if he asks for it? If he doesn’t know it’s missing, then he doesn’t really want it in the first place.” I countered.
“I guess, and it could help us. We don’t know what it does, it could be cursed.”
“I’ll put it on.” I was eager to have it.
“Sure, I don’t see why not. No one else is using it.” Curtlik handed me the bandanna.
“Exactly!” I took it and put it on. The bandanna felt cool around my head. I don’t really know how to explain it. I had seen everything in the room already, but with the bandanna on, I was able to really be aware of it all. It was like I could see it better, like there was a fog over everything that suddenly lifted when I put it on. Everything was crisper, easier to see, like a sun finally breaking through the clouds.
“This is cool.” I remarked. Looking around the room as if I was seeing it for the first time.
“Should we keep going?” Curtlik offered, growing bored of the small room.
Ascending to the top floor, the wooden steps creaked under our feet. The new bandanna gave me a boost of confidence, and so I elected to go first. That thing had to be up here, there was nowhere else for it to be. Our bows let the way to the top of the steps.
The stairs opened to a small room. In the far right corner was an armored statue standing guard. I was suspicious, but I trusted my senses and they told me it was safe. Opposite the guard on the left wall was a door, and to the left of the door was a hallway. The list of places that creature could be continued to shrink, as I grew more anxious in anticipation of our encounter.
The fear I felt was unlike that of our previous battles. I think I was more scared of not knowing. The unknown creature, the townspeople transforming, it was all so mysterious. The dark mansion didn’t help the atmosphere much either. Before, I knew what I was fighting. I knew what the situation was, and I had some expectation of what was ahead of me. Now, I’m blind. I don’t know what to do. Rather, I don’t feel like I have a choice.
That’s the worst thing: not knowing and not being able to do anything. At this point, I’ve fought some scary stuff, but this tops it all. I have to trust. I have to trust myself and my skills, and I have to trust Curtlik. I have to trust that we can get through this together, and I do. If there’s one thing I can bet on, it’s that, together, she and I can take anything.
“So, which way do we go?” I asked. I didn’t have much of an intuition.
“Let’s do the door. I’ll open it, and you can rush in.” Curtlik moved to the door, putting a hand on the handle. Quietly testing it, the handle resisted turning.
“It’s locked, I guess I’ll kick.”
Standing to her side, Curtlik kicked in the door. I rushed behind the splintered wood as Curtlik followed closely behind. We lowered our bows to the empty room. I know what you’re thinking, yes. Kicking down a door does create a lot of noise, and the creature thing probably heard us. It was our only choice. Now be quiet, you’ll find out what happens.
The room was some kind of study. There was a desk on the far side of the room and a beautiful nature painting behind it. On the left was a small bar with a fine selection of wines, which were all very good, by the way. The rest of the room was comfortably decorated, but what was interesting was the desk. On it was a map of Nas. A section of the woods on the edge of town was circled in red.
“Do you think this is where the creature when?” I asked, looking at the map.
“I don’t know, but it’s worth checking out after this.” Curlik answered, rolling up the map to take with us.
“Do you know what’s out there?” I knew there were mines around here, maybe one was at the center of the circle.
“I don’t know, I guess we’ll find out.”
I really stared to embrace snooping. I figured, if I got this cool bandanna, what else could I get? My hands tested the drawers to the desk. The ones that were opened didn’t have much in them, but there was one that Lester locked. Interesting.
“Hey, Curtlik, this one’s locked.” I called, pulling at the drawer.
“So open it.” She was too busy looking at the wine selection to be interested.
“Lock picking really isn’t my thing, can you do it?” I asked, pocking my head up from the desk.
“Nope.”
“What!? Why?” I stood up.
“If you want it opened, you do it. It’ll be good practice.” She knew she could open it, no problem. She wanted to mess with me! I was vexed.
“At least give me your lock pick, I don’t have anything.” I begged. It was either that or I smash the desk.
So, we sat. I worked on the lock and Curtlik sat on the desk. She paged through a book she found on the shelf and I continued to get frustrated.
“You think this is the best time to do this? We need to keep exploring the house.” I argued, trying to get her to do this for me.
“You’ll never learn if you don’t do it, and I’m not the one who wanted to open the drawer. I’m ready to go whenever you are.”
“You’re enjoying this.” I said, maybe trying to guilt her into helping.
“Yup.”
“You stink.”
“Okay.”
It didn’t help that she didn’t care. It only made me more frustrated. Looking back, I was probably frustrated with myself for not being able to do it. The longer I took, the more I was embarrassing myself. But also, like, what the heck! We’re trying to get through this and she thinks it’s a good time to teach me a lesson!
I kept at it, and after a few minutes, the drawer clicked open. I’ll have you know, it actually didn’t take me very long, just a few minutes.
“About time.” Curtlik said when she heard the lock. She was joking, but it didn’t help. She set the book down and hoped off the desk. “What’s in it?”
“Oh, so now you’re interested!” It wasn’t much, unfortunately. I regretted putting in all that work for a stupid letter, but a letter was better than nothing. Plus, it was a nice letter.
The letter was in an envelope with a broken seal of Vastfield. The letter read:
My love,
We just sold the latest of the items, you can come up to retrieve your cut when you have time to get away. I also long to see you, it has been too long. I wanted to tell you that I am pregnant, and that I want to leave the Dragon Scale. I haven’t told them yet, I fear Luthmire will become violent, but I cannot do this with a child. We have made enough gold from this, we can live a good life together. I was thinking Desca if it is a girl, I think that is a pretty name. Come up what you can, I will be waiting for you.
Always Yours,
Bessel
“Who are they?” I asked, after reading the letter aloud.
“Let me see.” I handed the letter to Curtlik, who re-read the letter.
“Lady Bessel is the current leader of Vastfield. She and Luthmire must have gotten romantically involved over the course of his visits. I’ve never heard of Luthmire, but it sounds like he’s part of the Dragon Scale. The Dragon Scale is a secret underground crime organization. They’re about as big as they are complicated, so I can’t get into much detail explaining it now, but they’re powerful. We’ve had spies try to get information since King Thalias and the Great War.”
“That sounds really bad, what were they doing getting involved with something like that?” I wondered. What’s going on in Vastfield? What the heck is going on in Morderan! We’ve got secret underground crime organizations, transforming towns people, dead evil kings who, turns out, aren’t really dead. It all makes me appreciate Haledine way more.
“I wouldn’t know. Maybe Esmerelda has an idea. If we ever talk to her again, let’s find out.” Curtlik answered.
Making her way to the door, she turned.
“But let’s go, we’ve spent enough time here.” I pocketed the letter and followed.
The hallway next to the door was short, and ended with another door. Stopping to listen, we found what we came for. A low chanting in a language neither of us recognized bled through the door. Listening closer, it sounded like water bubbling, like it was boiling. Readying our bows, I offered Curtlik the door, which she graciously accepted by kicking in.
There he was. That green, dry skin, lanky goblin looking things with long black hair. He was sitting cross legged, his back towards us, in the center of a pentagram drawn across the floor. A ruby, sapphire, and emerald rested on three corners of the star, and inside the triangle wedges where the gems sat were a standing flame, a ball of boiling water, and a vine growing from the ground.
Candles covered the ground, and a glaive rested behind him. The door definitely made noise when we opened it, so I was sure he heard us, but he made no action to acknowledge our entrance. Fine with me, I thought, and moved closer to the creature.
I stepped forward, into the room, and was hit back with a terrible, invisible force. Flying back, I landed hard against the wall in the hallway, falling to my knees and dropping my bow. I looked up to see Curtlik react. She let loose her arrow, sending it point blank towards the goblin creature. It wasn’t a goblin, but I don’t know what it was, and I don’t have any other way to describe it. I guess I’ll make up a name for it. This thing, was called a thrasher. It’s a cool name.
Well, Curtlik shot at the thrasher, and as soon as her arrow cleared the entrance, it froze, dead in mid-air, before it too got launched back into the hallway.
I sat on the ground, wondering what we could do against an invisible force field. Luckily, I didn’t have to think for long, because in a moment, the small flame burst to life, the flames licking the ceiling, the re-directing themselves into the ruby before disappearing entirely. The boiling water swam up into the air, curving and turning in on itself. Then it traveled across the ground to the sapphire, disappearing into the gem. Finally, the vine grew high, then dipped to retract into the emerald. The center of each gem began to glow brightly, bathing the room in red, blue, and green.
The thrasher rose and collected the three gems in a canvas bag. When he finally turned, his eyes widened and he took a step back, almost as if he was surprised to see us. This was the first time I saw his face. It was small, scrunched like he ate something sour that also smelled horribly. He lacked a nose. Instead, there were just two small slits above his mouth.
Once he was us, he took another step back. Gently, he lowered the bag of gems to the ground, then moved to his glaive on the floor. He wasn’t fast, he was taking his time, like moving any faster would spook us. Like he still had a trap for us. We were ready. I was up, and Curtlik and I both had our swords ready.
Walking to his glaive, he slowly bent down, never breaking eye contact with us. What is he doing? I thought to myself. I hope you haven’t forgotten about that epic battle music, because now’s the time to start imagining it.
The instant his hand touched the glaive, he rushed forward, closing the space between us in one brief moment. Now, I don’t know if you know what a glaive is. As far as I know, you don’t, so unless you’ve come across one wherever you’ve been, I’m going to assume you still don’t. It’s a long staff, and you use two hands to fight with it. One end has a long razor blade, like a saw, and the other has a sharp hook, like a scythe. Well the thrasher had a glaive, and both rushed through the door.
I think we were both taken off guard with his burst of speed, because we just had time to react to his attack. He was good. Even in such close quarters, he spun himself around the hall, swinging both ends of the glaive at us. Curtlik and I got separated, with the thrasher between us. Every time I swung, a different end of the glaive caught my attack, and I would only have just enough time to react before the other end swung around to hit me.
He was relentless, never missing a beat or losing his balance. What’s worse was that our only fighting style of switching out wasn’t going to work here, we were both giving this guy everything we had. We really should work on other fighting techniques.
I don’t know how she did it, but Curtlik started pushing the thrasher back down the hall towards the stairs. With her playing offense, I just had to play defense and walk back with the group.
Emerging into the small room at the top of the steps, I rotated around to join Crutlik’s side. Combining our force on one side, we were able to push the thrasher further.
“The steps.” I heard Curtlik grunt under her swings. I didn’t know exactly what that meant, but I had a good idea, and started directing the focus of my attacks. Between the two of us, we cornered the thrasher at the top of the steps. One mighty swing sent him falling back.
If you thought that was cool, you just wait. I’ll be honest, I had no idea what came over me, but I was in the full heat of battle. I was feeling all the rage. Seeing the thrasher on the ground at the bottom of the steps, I decided to do the only thing I thought was reasonable. I instinctually, and I mean without hesitation- Curtlik was about to run down the steps and I cut her off, I leaped off the top step. In mid-air, I pointed the tip of my sword down, and landed it clean through the chest of the thrasher. His body jerked up from the impact, the settled still on the ground, dead.
It wasn’t a clean landing, I was definitely feeling it the next day, but it was by far the coolest thing I’ve ever done, and Curtlik saw it! And guess what she did when I looked up to her in triumph? She scoffed! *scoff* That was amazing! She just did a quick cough laugh thing and walked back down the hallway. I don’t know what to do to impress this woman!
So, I rushed back up the steps to her. When I caught up, she was in the pentagram room, looking at the sack of gems.
“Um, hey! You just walked off!”
“The fight was over.” She responded flatly, focused on the gems.
“I don’t know, I did a thing.” I said, sheepishly.
“Yeah, I saw, you killed it.” She was as dry as ever, almost intentionally so.
“In a really cool way!” That got a smile out of her, but she fought it back.
“What do you think that thing wanted with those gems?” She asked, finally making eye contact for the first time in what seemed like forever. I welcomed her smile, and I knew she noticed.
“I don’t know, probably has something to do with that map. Do you know what that was?”
“Now that I got a good look at it, yeah. I don’t know the specific race, but it’s not from Morderan.”
“What do you mean? How can something not be from Morderan?” I had no idea what she was saying. Basically, things that I see aren’t real all the time.
“Well, Morderan is just one plane of existence. There are more, this thing came from one of them.”
“Galithan?” I asked.
“Maybe, but he didn’t invite demons last time, so this might be different. We’ll probably get more answers if we follow that map.” She responded.
“Sounds good, let’s figure out what’s going on, hu?”
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Stay the way you are, you're wonderful
biogist
'TIL THE LAST BREATH.
m1ckeyb3rry
swan song