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colderdrafts · 2 months

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13 – A disturbance

Underground visitor, gn reader x monster (male drider). Sfw. TW for gore and violence. First Previous Next

Dimly lit tunnels passes by you in a blur as you walk, unseen forces tugging at you to keep moving. So far, you’ve passed by the path to collect water, the living room, the library, the sleeping quarters - deeper and deeper into the depths of Dren's extensive and confusing home. Eventually, you find yourself at the entrance of tunnels you’ve yet to travel.

You lantern does not do much to illuminate what lies beyond this point. It's like staring into a void. While Dren has vigilantly made sure the tunnels you most frequent remains lit, other tunnels leading to and from those places are not. Still, the agitated anxious energy will not leave you.

I need to move.

You take a few tentative steps forward. The need does not diminish. Is the air colder here? Or are you just nervous?

What a silly thought. There's nothing to be scared of down here.

You press on, and soon, you find yourself accompanied by darkness.

Well, the dark, at least, you correct yourself, throwing an annoyed thought the harpy’s way.

You're not too worried about getting lost, knowing Dren will instinctively know where you are and can come guide you back. Still, there's something eerie about venturing alone into the unfamiliar dark tunnels, with only a lantern to guide you. The deafening silence down here still gets to you at times. It’s just so achingly empty.

Perhaps it's something one can get used to. After all, Dren still lives here, doesn’t he? But even if it is a spider thing, you can't fathom it's very pleasant.

The dark stretches before you, and you feel a little better the further you go, trying to keep track of the turns you make.

You come by yet another small stream that floats gently through the tunnel you’re in, carved out so it gently trinkles along the side of the wall. Neatly out of the main path, yet still serving as a guide. Perhaps it’ll lead you somewhere, and it should at least be easy enough to track back. You watch the swirling patterns carved into the wall as you follow the small stream, listening to the calm flow of water that fills the otherwise heavy stillness.

Several indents in the web above you signals there’s tunnels leading up too. Seems Dren has thoroughly connected to this part of the cave as well. You’d probably be able to reach up and climb them if you really wanted to. That is, if the thread he’s spun here isn’t that sticky stuff he uses for traps. You’d not want to be tangled in one of those again.

You gingerly reach out toward the ceiling to test it, when a very, very subtle sound of movement somewhere to your right catches your attention.

Movement? Down here? That can’t be right.

Nothing but you should be alive this far down, should it?

This must be your mind playing tricks. Your brain just wants to fill out the quiet with something. Regardless, goosebumps appear on your skin. With them, comes the continued need to move.

“Fine, I’m going,” you mutter to no one in annoyance. Why are your hands suddenly so clammy? The parasite inside you churns with worry at the thought of hostility, though not in the way of Morgan’s presence bearing down on you. So where is this sudden burst of anxiety coming from?

A muffled sound like rock hitting dirt disturbs your train of thought. It came from the same direction.

You frown. Perhaps you should follow your instinct here. If anything, to prove to yourself everything’s fine.

You quickly pull down the cover of the lantern, leaving you in the complete dark, but with your hand on the wall you feel your way forward towards the sound.

There’s a small indent on the wall, and feeling around it, you find there's a tunnel leading up, thankfully closer to the ground where you can reach it. The sounds might have come from somewhere within.

You quietly lift yourself up. It's not far, and soon you're standing in a slightly smaller tunnel. It goes upwards. From here, you can hear it much better. The movement turns to quiet muttering. Unfamiliar voices. Up ahead, you see the faintest light source.

Your heartbeat quickens. You're definitely not alone.

Your fears confirmed, you sneak forward as quietly as you can, the soft padding of your feet on the dirt below. Something’s wrong. You stare at the swirling patterns there, finding some comfort knowing you're still in touch with a highly efficient defense system. But why hasn't it set of the one who usually monitors it?

You reach the end of the smaller tunnel, the faint lights shining from within illuminating the walls and floor. Interestingly, in this spot, Dren has apparently decided to cover every surface in a soft padding of web. You carefully peek around the corner with bated breath.

Oh.

It would seem you've found out where Dren hides his eggs.

You're looking into a small enclave covered in web from ceiling to ground. In the middle is a small cluster of three orange, oval eggs about the size of soccer-balls, covered in a protective layer of webbing. It takes second for you to register the utter defenselessness of them. How much you've just imposed on the sanctity of their hidden room.

If not for the light piercing the dark you just came from, you'd never have found them. You glance further into the room, and find its source. Your blood runs cold.

Three hooded figures are standing at the opposite end of the alcove, eyeing the eggs and quietly whispering in foreign noises to each other. One of them moves their head, and you catch a glimpse of blueish tinted scales of their skin. You grit your teeth, realizing what's happening.

They're snatchers. There's no doubt about it.

Behind them, there is a small open hole in the wall, barely big enough to fit an adult human through.

So that's how they did it. Your grip on the lantern tightens, wondering if these are the same thieves that made way with the rest of Dren's children. And finding a need to plant a solid fist in each of their faces, as it seems they're about to finish the job. Nasty little things.

What should you do?

If you start yelling for Dren they'll undoubtedly find you, and you can easily picture what could happen: You get attacked, and they haul ass out of there, snatching whatever they can carry quickly and make away.

It risks the arachnid losing the rest of his offspring. You don't want to know how he'd react to that. You can hardly bear leaving him even with his family still alive.

You should at least try to warn him.

Soundlessly, you run your fingers through the soft webs to find the carvings on the wall, finding the strong, silky warning thread within. You shake it vigorously. Some of the webbing breaks off and sticks to your hand, but you don't have time to worry about that right now, picking out another one and shaking that one too for good measure.

Simultaneously, the snatchers start moving.

One of them steps extremely carefully toward the eggs. In the light from their lantern, you spot that it has covered its feet in web, and carefully moves so that no other part of its body touches it.

Huh. Clever.

You shake the web again. If Dren doesn't feel it, he's going to lose them. You bite back a loud protest yell as the thief slowly reaches toward one of the defenseless orbs on the floor.

It would appear you need to make a decision. You need to move.

At this rate, Dren will never make it in time before they're gone. And you're not going to stand idly by and witness a kidnapping without at least trying to intervene. You'll have to buy their parent some time. You brace yourself for potentially one of the most stupidly risky acts you've performed in your life.

"Leave them!" you bellow suddenly, and fling yourself toward the snatcher closest to the eggs.

Element of surprise on your side, a gnarly startled screech escapes the creature, and it immediately stumbles backwards towards its fellows, and out of your way.

You quickly jump forward and stand in front of the eggs protectively, shielding them from the offenders with your arms out in an awkward position.

It's quiet a moment. The snatchers stare at you, and up close now you recognize one of them as the red one who spotted you back at the marketplace. Their yellow eyes once again stare into yours.

They bare their teeth at you and hiss something, guttural words you can’t make sense of.

The other two step out to flank you, and suddenly the sharp ends of a pair of spears are pointed at you.

You ball your fists to keep your hands from shaking.

"I'm not letting you take them," you hiss back, relying on a bubbling protective anger to keep you grounded. "I've already called for the parent. You should get out of here while you still can."

You're bluffing, and frankly you don't even know if these creatures can understand you. But you don't get any option to find out as the red one snarls something else. In a split second, the blue one on their left lunges at you, spear at the ready.

You instinctively throw yourself to the side, narrowly dodging the tip of the wooden weapon. However, you've left the eggs exposed when doing so.

The other two immediately take advantage and close in on them, while the blue one focuses on keeping you occupied.

You grab two handfuls of web from your position close to the wall and pull with all your might. It comes off with a soft ripping noise, and you quickly hurl it at your blue assailant.

The blue one rambles angrily, probably in no kind terms telling you to knock it off, tearing the sticky threads off their body. They hiss, and jab forward, stabbing at you again. You jump sideways, but the creature is quick to reassess their aim. The weapon connects with the tissue in your shoulder and you grunt in pain, feeling warm blood trickle down your arm.

The other two have meanwhile managed to pick up one of the eggs each. You don’t have time to intervene with the blue one still coming at you.

In an act of desperation you swing your lantern at them, hitting them over the head with a loud clonk. The glass shatters, sharp splinters flying across the room. The blue one staggers back, dazed and now bleeding.

You take the opportunity and step forward, shoving your uninjured shoulder into their side. They're smaller than you, and trips and falls, further disturbing the webbing below.

You manage to snatch up their discarded spear, and rush ahead to cut the thieves off, blocking the small hole that makes the exit. You point it at the two fleeing with one egg each.

"Put them down!" you demand.

The two others stop momentarily, hissing at you, but while your focus was on them, the blue one has recovered. You feel a scaled arm locking around you and catching you in a headlock. You're roughly pulled backwards, losing your grip on the spear. The other two waste no time hurrying toward the exit with their prices.

The one furthest behind does not get that far. A flash of black snatches it clean off the ground, squealing.

Their red companion turns in time to watch a pair of long, hairy and pitch black spider’s legs slowly appearing from the opening of the alcove, having grappled their friend uncomfortably tight around the stomach.

Dren fully enters the room, his imposing presence suddenly making the small room feel much smaller. He's holding the snatcher with his front legs, and they're kicking and snarling in his grip, desperately struggling to escape. The egg lands on the soft webbing below with a soft bump, thankfully unharmed, and Dren quickly uses another leg to pull it behind him to safety.

Then he let's out a disgusted huff, and rapidly slams the snatcher into the ground. Following the movement is a loud crunch.

You hear bone snapping with the force of the impact, and the snatcher squeals in agony.

Dren carelessly lifts the screaming creature, and smashes them against the floor again. Their pained cries echoes through the otherwise deadly silence of the cave.

You can do nothing but stare.

Drens lifts the snatcher, and knocks them against the floor again.

And again.

Three more times, until the squealing snatcher goes silent save for a wet gurgling wheeze, their body reduced to a broken pile of bones and meat.

A cold sweat breaks out as your entire body shudders, distraught from the horrific sight.

How long until he cracks, and simply kills you?

The grip on your head lessens in favor of gripping around your upper body tightly, and you hear a small whine from the blue snatcher holding you captive. It feels like it now focuses more on using you as a meat shield rather than trapping you.

Dren looks up from the ruined carcass below him and his eyes dart between the one holding you, and the one holding his second egg, eerily quiet with and odd stoic expression. Fresh blood drips from his carapace, his mandibles clicking in contemplation, like wondering who he should sink his fangs into next.

No one dares move.

You suddenly understand why an insect freezes in the presence of a predator, fearful of what any slight disturbance in the air would set off. It's like he's an arrow nocked on a bow, ready to release at any moment, and you pray to anyone who might be listening that you're not its target.

You suddenly feel something sharp poking your side and let out a small gasp. Not a millisecond later, you let out a yell as a large spiders body is suddenly towering over you, there in a flash. The blue snatcher’s grip on you vanishes in an instant as it flies upwards, dropping a knife that falls to the webbed ground with a soft thud.

You stumble forward, landing clumsily on your knees and palms in the sticky webbing below. All around you there is movement as Dren paces around, his lower body above you. There's an uncanny wet tearing noise, and you suddenly see droplets of blood falling on the floor as yet another squealing egg-thief is efficiently silenced.

You hear footsteps, as the last of the snatchers, the red one, makes a beeline for the small exit, sprinting across the alcove with one egg in each arm.

Dren's entire body springs to attention as he moves above you, pointing in the direction of the last thief. He dashes toward it, carelessly throwing the now disfigured body he was holding aside. They splatter against the wall with a squelch, leaving blood stains behind as they join their dead comrade.

The last snatcher barely manages to leap through the opening before Dren tramples them flat.

"NO!" Dren roars, and starts pushing his legs into the opening, too big to fit through. "NO!"

His enraged outburst echoes through the cave as he claws at the opening in the wall, trying to make it bigger so he can give chase.

You sit up and stare at him, feeling your heart galloping, a stench of blood and sweat in the air. Your eyes dart to the two mangled corpses carelessly thrown to the ground, and you find it odd. How were these lumps of meat two people just mere seconds ago? The final egg lies motionless on the floor close to them, vulnerable and harmless. The very beginning of this whole conflict.

What will they be capable when they grow up?

You look back to Dren, your answer, your companion and protector, watching him completely loose himself along the safety of his last eggs.

There's an odd sort of clarity in your mind then, watching this unfold. Like being inside the eye of a storm.

Something in the way Dren tears through his home without a care of ruining what he has spend so long building, in between his wheezes and snarling, you're reminded of what he is in this moment. Despite having witnessed him tearing two people apart in seconds flat, despite the bloody scene and ruthless violence - right now, he's just a parent, desperately trying to avoid any harm coming to his children.

You can feel it. You can sense the pain and fear fueling his wrath, and you find it links to something you share with him. Something inside you pops, a sudden burst of anger demands you take action.

Dren won’t fit through that hole. But you will.

Quickly, you find yourself on your feet, picking up the discarded spear and rushing toward the custodian to help.

"Move!" you yell at Dren, and he doesn't hear you at all, still feverishly ripping whole chunks out of the wall. "Out of the way!"

You push past the flurry of movement that is his legs, and shiver when they grace across your back when you interrupt, but thankfully no further - seems he's still coherent enough not to squash you - so you quickly slip inside the opening to chase down the red thief. The arachnid’s distressed shouting and hissing continues behind you, and you hear him call your name.

You see the light-source up ahead and sprint toward the snatcher, even though you're not really sure what you're going to do if you catch it. The tunnel is narrow and you need to duck your head under roots traveling across the ceiling. The snatcher is quick, but you find yourself at an even pace, even catching up. It carrying two eggs might have given you an advantage in movement.

The snatcher stops up ahead close to a small ladder presumably leading outside. Carefully but quickly, the red one puts the eggs into a basket waiting on the ground next to it. You intercept them there, spear at the ready.

"Give them back!" you yell.

The red snatcher stares up at you in surprise, and meets your threat with a hiss. They take a heavy step forward.

You don't let up. You angrily jab the spear at Red again to force them further back, and away from the eggs.

They snarl at you this time, two long fangs glinting in the dim lantern light as their hands open and closes, considering their options. With their hood back, you notice the red scales covering their head are torn in places. Their yellow eyes are blown wide open, and their nostrils are flaring.

They're afraid.

As they should be.

"Run now, and you may get out of here alive," you spit, trying your words while they're still reluctant to fight. "Get the hell out of dodge before the spider figures out the tunnel has another entrance point."

You're still not sure if the thing even understands you. But they look between you and the basket containing their price, and then glances back the way where a certain large predator has his mind currently set to 'brutally murderous'.

The snatcher takes a few steps backwards, watching you. When you make no move, they turn on their heel, and dashes toward the ladder, leaving the eggs and lantern behind. They glance back at you one last time, before rapidly ascending it into the darkness outside, and out of view.

You keep watch for a few seconds, giving the snatcher time to cover some ground before daring to look away from the opening.

Once certain they've gone, you hurriedly open the basket, and look over the eggs.

They're still orange, slightly translucent, and, most importantly, uninjured. On top of the tough membrane, you see what seems to be an outline of legs. You breathe a heavy sigh of relief, carefully putting a hand on one of them. It’s pleasantly warm.

There's a strange sort of intimacy in staring at these fragile little creatures. After all, Dren's trusted no one to see them, not even you.

This is Dren’s children you’re looking at. And you've just saved their lives.

Carefully, your reach down to scoop them up in your arms.

"Holy shit, do not drop them, do not drop them.." you urgently whisper to yourself as you do, anxious you might accidentally do just that.

The warmth emanating from them is familiar, and you hold them close to your chest, carefully making your way back down the tunnel. The weight of them in your arms brings an odd sense of calm to you, despite the haphazard situation.

A brief gust of wind stops you, however, and you glance back at the hole above the ladder.

You almost feel a pull, calling you towards it.

What a bad time to be interrupted. But you could just go and leave everything behind to be somewhere else, couldn't you?

All these emotions, all of this trouble, the blood and violence, everything you'll need to fix when you get back home. You don't have to do any of it.

It's almost tempting to climb up, if just for a few seconds. Just escape to the outside and feel free of it all.

Escape? You stop and ponder on your own train of thought. That would require I'm a captive.

You look down at the two vulnerable orbs nestled safely in your arms.

No. Something else inside you says. These are more important right now.

You trudge back down the tunnel, ignoring the thing inside you squirming in protest.

Dren has meanwhile managed to turn the opening of the snatcher tunnel into mulch. He's still going at it when you return, now completely silent save for the noise of dirt being ripped apart.

The sight reminds you of the potential danger from this whole confrontation. Dren's current state of mind, and the full view of his powerful legs violently reducing the wall to nothing, is not helping matters. Suddenly, you don’t feel much like a savior. You feel more like a rat hiding inside a crack in the wall, while the cat tries to furiously claw its way towards it.

You step in place for a moment, unsure.

"Dren?" you call out eventually, hesitant.

And the movement halts. You can hear him panting from the effort, tense and awaiting your next words with panicked anticipation.

Your throat is dry. "I- I have them. They're okay.”

Dren’s legs slowly retreat and his head and torso appears in the tunnel entrance. He leans down to peer through it at you.

All his pitch black eyes are wide open and his mandibles are flaring, but something in his expression shifts when he spots you holding his eggs close as to not drop them. Fear? Anger? Desperation? You can't read him at all.

You take a wary step back.

“Please,” he rasps quickly when you do so, and very, very slowly reaches his bloodied hands toward you. Inviting you in with open arms. “Please. Come here.”

There's something eerily familiar in the way he says that, his voice gently rolling through your mind, urging, compelling you, in a way he hasn't done before.

The cold sweat prickling your skin at the feeling makes you reluctant to follow the instruction. Yet, another part quite would like to, would like to indeed, you can trust him and get closer, he’s safe, you know he’s safe- You shake it off, unsure if he's of sound mind to not grab and tear you apart the second you're within reach. Just like he did the previous creature who held his eggs.

Dren swallows, obviously struggling to not continue his rampage to just get them back, to just reach you, to take control of what happens to what is his - armed with the patience of an experienced predator he takes a deep breath, grounding himself as to not startle you further, lest you take flight.

"Please," he says softly, normally, waving his hands in a beckoning motion.

You realize the amount of power you hold over him right now. If you wanted, you could turn on your heel and walk away. You could name a price. You could throw the eggs on the ground and trample them flat, and he would be powerless to stop you.

But you don't. These eggs are innocent and vulnerable, and in front of you stands a sure-fire way to ensure that nothing will happen to them.

You still see Dren there despite the terror. You recognize his patience and fiercely protective nature, that’s been there with you every step of the way. Now, once again, working to keep everything he cares about safe.

You slowly make your way toward him. He’s staring at you almost like in a trance.

You had prepared to hand the eggs over once you reached him, but Dren slowly moves back, allowing you to pass through the carnage that used to be an entry point. Just watching with wide eyes. You’re not exactly sure what he expects you to do. But he hasn't stopped you, so you keep going.

You step across the alcove, and carefully place the eggs back to their right place in the middle of the room. Dren comes up next to you, and places the third next to them. In silence, he starts gently wrapping some of the ruined webbing over them again with his front legs. You move back to give him space to fuss over them.

You've barely taken a step before he rapidly turns, and suddenly lunges towards you. With his arms, he snatches you clean off the ground.

You can't hold back a small scream as you're suddenly in the air - this is it, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm so so dead - which Dren completely ignores, as he forcibly squeezes you against his torso in a bone-crushing embrace.

Your face is flattened against his fur-covered shoulder, your arms sprawled to the side in shock, legs dangling uselessly over the ground. You hardly dare breathe, not that the force currently pressuring your ribs allows for much lung expansion anyway.

Dren buries his face in the crook of your neck.

He's shaking.

"Thank you," he breathes, clutching you a bit tighter. "Thank you."

You dangle awkwardly in his arms, trying to calm your racing pulse, taking shuddering breaths. Oh. It would appear this is gratitude.

Gingerly, not really knowing what else to do, you wrap your arms around him in turn, and he shudders when you do so. He shifts then, and you feel yourself being leaned backwards, settled on his pedipalps. Your backside is leaning against the web-covered eggs, and his front legs curl around them, holding both you and them in place.

He holds you like that for a while. You let him cling to you, while he works through whatever it is he needs to work through to calm down after this experience.

You don't dare glance toward the mutilated corpses currently concealed behind the furred shoulder, your face is pressing against. You ignore the stains of crimson littering the space. There's nothing you can really say, so you settle for running your fingers through the hairs on the back of Dren’s neck in a soothing manner. A soft chitter suggests he likes it when you do that, at least.

"It's alright," you mutter softly, testing the waters. "They're safe."

"Safe," he repeats, nodding against your shoulder. “Safe.”

There’s a pause, and then Dren readjusts his hold a bit. You feel him tense, like preparing for an impact. He sucks in a breath before he speaks.

“Give me the winter,” he blurts hurriedly. Like he needed to get it out before it was too late. “Just the winter.”

You try to lean back and get a look at him, but his grip won’t let you move an inch away - as if he's afraid to let you go.

“What..?” you try as softly as you can. He’s getting agitated.

“Just until they hatch, until they can fend for themselves,” Dren elaborates, rushed words leaving him like rapid fire. “I’ll help you get back home, I promise, whatever you need, I'll do it. Just – please stay. Act as my sentry. Give me the winter.”

Supposedly it makes sense he would do this now, of all times. It would seem this is what it took to finally break him.

You lean further into him, if anything to silently let him know you're not just going up in thin air, so maybe his death-grip on you lessens a bit.

You sigh. "That's - but Dren, you know I'm not-"

"You're perfect," he states firmly, cutting you off. The tips of his fangs brush over your neck as he speaks. "You kept watch and called for me when it was needed - risked yourself to defend my young, despite them not being your responsibility - you've already done more than I could ever ask. I have no right, I know that, but I can't - If I lose anyone else-" he trails off in his rambling. "Please. Give me the winter."

It's not like you're actually much in a position to say 'no', but you don't really get the feeling Dren is thinking about that right now. Like your refusal means you're going to slip through his fingers, and vanish in an instant. As if he's not the one holding your only known key home. As if he's not perfectly capable of keeping you trapped here, if he so did desire.

But maybe his conviction in this ultimately being your choice means something - maybe that actually means everything.

You sense the remaining vulnerable eggs pressing against your backside, a faint reminder of what you did tonight. It seems it's wasn't really you who needed to move.

You’re already connected to them, aren’t you? How could you possibly leave everything behind? Not now. Not after all of this.

What's a few months of darkness as a price for keeping everyone you care about alive?

"Okay," you whisper, clutching him back. You can feel a pressure growing around you, like you’ve just used your entire body to pick up something heavy. It’s warm. "Okay, you can have my winter."

"I will let you go," Dren assures you firmly, speaking through his teeth. "It will hurt, I know it will, for both of us, but I vow to you, when all this is over, when we're all safe-"

"I know," you placate. "I trust you."

Dren breathes out, and with it leaves the tension in his body. He finally leans back to look at you again, and there are tears in black eyes. Carefully, gently, his hands reaches up to cup your face. You stare at him like you did earlier this very day and, once again, he effortlessly draws you in.

Because looking at him like this is nice. It’s really, really nice. You’re being enveloped in a warm blanket, soothing all worry you’ve ever had. You can feel a pull from him, coaxing you closer, something gently wrapping around you. Of course this will work, of course you’re in good hands here, of course Dren knows what’s best -

A sudden piercing pain shoots through you in retaliation, and you gasp, severing eye contact and instinctively trying to curl up to protect yourself. It's no use. The pain strikes your core, like a gun was fired from within. Something inside you heavily disagrees.

Dren hisses at the interruption and deftly pulls you to him again, like a futile attempt to shield you with his body. You can feel his formerly calm energy clouded in a protective fury, zeroing in on the interloper, surrounding it, grabbing it, strangling it.

You cry out. You can’t help it. The parasite’s pain is as much yours as it is its, and the agony is unbearable. It feels like your chest is being crushed, like your ribs can shatter and destroy your innards at any moment.

“I know, Sweetness, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, shh,” Dren soothes you, holding you against him with a hand over the back of your neck, keeping his grip on the parasite and angrily thwarting it.

It feels like forever you're in this pure world of pain, at some point you may have started begging for it to stop, only wishing dearly for everything to turn quiet, for it to be over. You can faintly hear reassurances and apologies in the foggy cloud of your consciousness, and something, someone, peers into your mind, feeling for a thread intertwining with the very core of your being.

Then, there’s a small release of pressure, like when you’ve finished tying the knot of a shoelace. At the end, you let it go, sitting neat and comfortably tight.

And then the pain is gone.

It’s like the hook trapping the fish suddenly disappearing from the fight. The struggle is over, leaving the fishing line there, suspended in the flowing water. Useless.

Dren’s breath is warm on your neck as he chitters and purrs to calm you, pedipalps and arms around you like both of his halves are checking on you at once. You just hold on to him, feeling an immense relief coursing through your body. The pressure is gone, leaving you sore, and completely exhausted. Vulnerable.

And you can feel him. Really, feel him.

Dren is everywhere around you, inside you, his energy twisting and turning in a strange dance. He’s happy. So, so happy. The overflowing emotion is infectious, and you struggle to hold in an odd strangled laugh full of sobs.

And it dawns on you now what you’ve just agreed to. What you’ve just accepted into your life. And, if what you’ve learned from the harpy is true, you’ve just acquired the qualifications for your new job as a sentry.

#colderwriting #in which things finally fall in place #or something like that..#drider x you #monster x reader #drider #drider x reader #uv #terato #exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster x human

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colderdrafts · 3 months

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12 - Tomorrow

Underground visitor, gn reader x monster (male drider). Sfw. First Previous Next

It should be around here, shouldn't it?

You stretch your back with a sigh, sore from standing bent forward for a bit too long. You've been wandering around the forest outside Dren’s home for a while now, scanning the ground for your lost device. It’s a hazzle pushing past bushes and leaf litter, remnants of the storm’s destruction not helping matters.

"A little black square with a dark 'skreen'," Dren repeats to himself for the third time, voice balancing uncertainty like he believes this is an elaborate prank. Still, he’s adamant to assist your pursuit, moving through his own forest space. He blows some of his unruly black locks out of his face when leaning down. "And it allows you to talk to someone at once, despite not being in their vicinity?"

"Yep," you call over your shoulder, jumping over some heavy fallen branches. "Very handy, if I do say so myself."

Dren hums in agreement.

There's a loud crash from his direction, and you spin on your heel at the sudden sound.

You find Dren casually hurling timber of a fallen tree further into the woods to get a better look at the bushes crushed underneath it. He picks up another large log with his front legs, seemingly unaware of his startling you, gets his arms under it, and simply throws it aside with a low grunt of effort.

You can’t resist admiring his casual strength for a moment. The perfect sync between the two halves of his body, despite them being put together in such a strange way, are like two separate creatures working together as a unit.

Dren looks up from the lumber he’s been toiling with, catching your eye. There’s a certain knowing warmth in his expression, and it makes you briefly wonder if he was showing off on purpose.

You distract yourself by looking back to your own bushes.

"Damn, give me a heart attack, would you?" you laugh, busying yourself by moving away branches. "What did those poor trees do to you?"

"I would prefer not to," Dren replies simply, grabbing and throwing aside another fallen log. "And they got in my wa – ah, oops. Apologies, critter."

There’s a frantic rustling and movement from something low on the forest floor. Seems his lumbering startled a brown ground-dwelling bird from it's hide in the underbrush. It flaps it's wings from the scare with a shriek, darting left, then right, then settling for the nearest exit being between Dren’s legs, under his abdomen, and then out on the open path.

Dren patiently stands very still while the bird figures out how to ‘escape’ him. It quickly seeks shelter in the deeper forest.

"Careful over there, 'Scary'," you tease him, watching the poor creature go. "We’re not out here to disturb the wildlife."

"I did apologize," Dren chuckles, re-starting his previous task.

You smile fondly, and return to your own patch.

The area you’re in should be around the place where you first appeared when the Darkness yanked you, if your ability to estimate distance is still functional. You had a palm on a tree, and from there you spotted the rocky entrance to the cave – it should be around here somewhere. You grin as another loud crash follows Dren’s part of the objective. He’s as destructive as the storm at this point.

It takes a while, combing the forest floor with shared effort. You cover as many bases as you can, desperation pushing you past the boundaries of your initial estimations. No dice. Perhaps it’s ambitious to think you’d be able to locate a small phone in an entire forest.

Perhaps it’s ambitious to think it’ll allow you to leave, something inside your mind purrs.

You stubbornly ignore both the thought, and the aching in your heart that comes along with it. The annoying pressure, however, remains.

The path you followed when you were walking home that fateful night isn’t exactly as you remember, but again, this is not where you used to be. You suppress a humored snort when yet another soft thud comes from the forest – yet halt, when you realize the sound didn’t come from Dren’s direction.

Careful.

Right after, you hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. And judging from the sound of the gait, it’s someone walking on two legs.

You look around, and true enough, further down the path you spot a sole individual calmly walking towards you. Anxiety spikes in you at the sight. There’s no way the stranger haven’t heard you rustling about, and now, they’ve seen you too. From this distance you spot canine features of the stranger’s face, and a furry body clad in protective leather.

You quietly look her in the eye at her approach, hesitant to call for Dren to put him and his young in a dangerous spot. And for all you know, your paranoia is completely unneeded.

The wolf-person approaches, eyeing you. Her face is relaxed, and no teeth bares when she speaks.

“Why are you out here on your own, sentry?” the wolf asks in a clear voice, stopping a generous few meters from you. You note a sharp spear attached to her back, the point glinting slightly in the dwindling sunlight.

“I’m not,” you inform the wolf.

“They’re not,” Dren reaffirms, appearing from between the trees. He swiftly steps to your side, not taking his eyes off the wolf you’re talking to. He chitters lowly. “Isn’t it a little early for you to be out and about?”

The wolf immediately focuses on him, subtly taking a wary step back. “Isn’t it a little late for you?” she counters.

Dren hisses. “Not quite yet.”

The adversary attitude is slightly concerning. As much as Dren is solitary, he usually at least maintains a polite demeanor when talking to other common-folk. That he deliberately has cast it away in favor of beefing himself up a bit tells you this is not just any common-folk.

You’d probably do well to get out of this interaction as soon as possible.

“You should leave,” you tell the wolf, trying your best to sound disarming. “We don’t want any trouble.”

“Neither do I,” the wolf replies, looking at you. “I was just out for a walk when I heard you scurrying about. Not often we see your kind around here.”

“I get that a lot,” you grumble. You nod toward the road. “Now you’ve seen me. You can go now.”

“That I have,” she agrees. She eyes Dren. “Lucky one, eh? Are you-”

“Leave,” Dren cuts her off with a snarl, not so subtly letting the wolf know his patience is running thin.

You pause to look at him and find his eyes hardened, subtly brandishing his fangs. You’ve not seen him like this since the clash with Morgan. You can almost feel the vibrations in the air from his lower body searching for any indication of an attack.

You slowly step closer to him – you know he can feel you coming – and place your palm against the side of his waist. His warmth is there immediately, but it doesn’t travel through you as usual. Dren doesn’t remove his eyes from the wolf.

“-looking for something?” the wolf continues regardless, watching your attempt to calm her adversary. She plants her feet slightly apart, like preparing to bolt.

“What’s it to you?” you ask, trying to sound calm. Better keep things smooth while the wolf is still here.

“Nothing. Just curious,” the wolf replies cautiously. “And I’ve found this thing. It smells like you, so I put two and two together.”

The wolf carefully reaches into a pocket with her other palm out, a placating gesture. And, of course, she pull back out your black ‘skreen’, holding it with two clawed fingers like it could burn her if she's not careful.

Drat.

“This is what you’re looking for, isn’t it?” the wolf asks, sounding almost like a statement. She could probably spot the way your eyes widened at the sight of it.

There’s no point lying. That is, indeed, a thing you very much need.

“It is,” you reply as casually as you can. “I lost it a while ago.”

“Give it back,” Dren demands. “It doesn't belong to you.”

“Well, it doesn't belong to you either, by the looks of it,” the wolf growls back at him. She focuses on you. “It belongs to the sentry. So. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give it back no trouble, and you make sure your custodian lets me leave this forest alive?”

Alive? What? Does she honestly think that – well. A look at your companion, and supposedly it’d make sense for her to think that she maybe won’t. It still surprises you just how easily violent this world can get. But why even approach you then?

He’s not my- is in the front of your mind for a reply, but perhaps it’s better shut off for now. The wolf assumes you have any inkling of control over Dren’s actions, and that might work to your advantage here. As far as you know him, Dren doesn't want to fight either, he’s just determined to show he’s well prepared in case things were to escalate. Perhaps you can utilize that advantage so they don’t.

“Alright. Give me my device, and you can go,” you state, gently squeezing Dren’s side. You’re not sure if you’re apologizing for, or asking for permission to speak on his behalf. “I promise.”

The wolf observes you for a second, assessing your words. Supposedly deciding to trust them, she casually throws the phone to you. You manage to catch it.

“I’ll be on my way, then,” the wolf says. “Done deal.”

She casts one last glance back at you, before swiftly retreating into the deeper woods.

You can feel Dren’s leg pressing against your back. You lean against his side and put your hand on it, feeling the rough hairs there underneath your palm.

“You alright?” you ask lowly.

Dren is quiet a moment, staring at the hastily retreating back of the wolf. He huffs. “No. I do not like their kind, and I especially do not like them this close to my home.”

“That was a hunter, wasn’t it?” you say. You hesitate a moment. “What do you think she was doing here?”

“Scouting,” Dren growls. “Common-folk like her don’t go far from their homes for pleasantries.”

You could choose to hope that a pleasant walk to take in the brown and red hues of fall in this forest would be motivation enough for the wolf. But even you know that's probably naive.

“I have a guess as to what they’re scouting for,” you mutter, looking up at your companion.

Dren gives a short nod, still looking dead ahead. “You’d be correct.”

And curse your correctness, because here you are, having just let a new potential threat to Dren’s existence go on its merry way.

Should you have let him take care of it instead?

Dren keeps staring in the direction to wolf left, waiting a minute until she's completely out of view. He takes a deep breath, and leans down to gently press his face against your cheek momentarily. You lean back into him, reveling in his comforting warmth in the cool air around you.

“I’m sorry. Should I not have – should you just have -” you ask, without finishing the sentence.

“No,” Dren replies quickly. “There’s no need to fight today if it can be avoided. I will deal with this at another time.” He sighs, and gently nudges you to change the tone a bit. “But we got your skreen, did we not?”

“My ‘skreen’,” you echo him, smiling while holding it up for display. “Yeah. We did.”

You press the power button momentarily. Nothing happens. Either it’s out of power, or the rain and laying in the cold, wet dirt for who knows how long has simply done enough damage to break it.

Dren zeroes in on the strange device in your hands, squinting and blinking in succession. It’s as if he's trying to get it to tell him its secrets.

"What an odd little thing," he muses. Then he looks at you and smiles. "The ‘skreen’ as well, I suppose."

You snort, and playfully push at his furred shoulder. "Very funny. But this is awesome! Maybe now I actually have a better shot at getting this whole Darkness business attracted to this place again."

"And how will this work?” Dren asks, intrigued. “Will you be able to catch the Darkness with this object of yours?"

His question makes you pause. Truthfully, you hadn’t thought too far ahead on that aspect of your plan. You’d mainly focused on getting a starting point. Yet now the device rests easily in your palm, and so far nothing has happened.

"I'm not really sure," you admit. "My idea was like - waving it around and hope something happens. ‘Darkness grows in the spaces between us’, so maybe if I create one point for magic and one without..? You know, me and the phone on one end, this whole shabbang of a world on the other?” you continue, feeling the weight of your words crumbling the already paper-thin plan.

You take a second to adjust to the feeling. Dren patiently watches you think things through.

“In hindsight, probably not? Then maybe it would have happened by now," you ponder, turning the phone over in your hands. "So what am I missing?"

Perhaps you got too caught up in a potential easy fix to think it the whole way through. Why should this work any differently than you just being here, without any magic in you?

Dren thinks for a beat, frowning. He gets the same expression when he tries to remember something he’s read. "I’m still not well-versed in this – but the harpy also said magic is quite simple. Perhaps it’s just as you said. Maybe we need to cultivate a space where it can grow. Between us," Dren thinks out loud. “Magic and non-magic. Like you and me.”

"What you mean like - the two of us?” you ask. “You want to help me?"

"If I can," Dren nods. “She said your skreen is completely non-magic? And it’s in a place it’s not supposed to be in. It’s an outlier in this world. Something that’s bound to attract attention.”

“So if we try and generate a space, and have the pho-screen as, what, some sort of a lure?”

“Maybe?” Dren says. “We could give it a try.”

“I thought you said magic’s dangerous,” you argue. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Well, I will not do anything beyond my natural abilities,” Dren reassures you. “I’m not the strongest, but perhaps I can – nudge, a reaction a bit.”

“How?”

“I’ll do what I would normally do,” Dren says. “But I will not tie anything together. I promised I would never deliberately use my ability with you, and this is not my intend here.”

No strings attached. Do you trust it’ll stay that way?

“Alright,” you say assuredly, showing the thought down. “If you think it’ll work.”

“Truthfully, I have no idea. But working or not, you will feel it,” Dren warns. He’s wringing his hands again. “It will only affect you.”

“I know,” you say, remembering the harpy’s words. You’re not sure you understand exactly what Dren aims to do, considering the natural limits to his abilities. But you do understand he wouldn’t do anything if he didn’t feel both of you could handle it. He's had odd ideas before. Might as well indulge him in this one. “Well. It’s worth a shot.”

Later you’re back outside the entrance to the cave – away from prying eyes – and Dren has directed you to stand a few paces away from him. The phone is placed in the middle. Seem the idea is to take it very literally, and using it to symbolize the space between you.

It almost feels a little silly, standing around to do this sort of odd improvised ritual. But worst case, nothing happens, and you're back to square one. Might as well check all bases. The cool air gently blows through the trees, and you glance at the place where you planted your flowers. A thought of how they might be doing down there in the dirt passes.

“Ready?” Dren asks, perhaps noting your momentary distraction.

“Yeah,” you reply. “Go ahead.”

Dren closes his eyes, and you can hear him chittering, claws working on the ground, sensing the air all around him. He steps in place for a bit, like trying to find a proper spot to hold on to. You stand to attention, suddenly feeling a little anxious as you wait in silence.

Dren opens his eyes suddenly, settling on something, and juts forward, completely locking his focus on you.

He catches your eye with a vivid stare that drills into you, so intense you simply can't tear your eyes away from it. His eyes are like four black holes, eager to swallow you in your entirety.

You feel a shift in the temperature as something warm slowly, slowly creeps up over your arms and gently flows through your skin, comforting and familiar. It’s Dren’s influence, you realize, the extend of what he can do. It makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, a tingling sensation all over. It’s very much unlike the unpleasant experience you had with a certain other person who did something similar.

“Dren-” you breathe softly, feeling the warmth traveling through your bones, and you find you mostly just want it to keep going.

He purrs in response, and you stare into his eyes and find nothing there but pure contentment, enjoying being able to feel you so intimately. Then you can feel a want to go further, get closer, get inside, and a pain, a struggle, trying to hold himself back. You’re reaching for him as much as he is you, and the space between you is almost maddening, churning with need from forced separation.

“Don’t,” Dren hisses suddenly, and you realize you’ve taken a few steps toward him. You didn't even notice when you started moving. “Don’t come any closer.”

Your vision gets blurry as you suddenly get woozy, just feeling the sensation of Dren’s whole being intertwining with yours.

Dren says something again, and you can’t make it out. His voice seems fuzzy and obstructed, like listening through heavy glass. It takes another second to realize that you didn’t see his mouth moving. Dren wasn’t the one trying to speak.

Something wraps around you limbs, and there’s a scurrying of movement all around you, almost like a noise of rapid steps through water. Suddenly it’s hard to breathe, a dizzying and suffocating cloud surrounding you. There’s a stranger there, an outlier, something that doesn’t fit, and I want to get to it, tie it down, I want to understand it, I want to have it, see it, hear it, feel it, love it, make it mine -

It’s quiet.

And it’s dark. You don’t remember closing your eyes, but you do dare open them again.

There, in the space between you and Dren, on top of the phone, is a small, black void. It gently flows and sways, independent of the wind.

It’s like a hole in the air itself. The complete opposite of taking up space.

The sight makes your brain hurt and you gasp in surprise. In an instant it’s gone, as is Dren’s warmth, and you find yourself shivering from the sudden cold that claws its way through you, gripping tight.

No, no, no, no, something inside you squeals like in a panic. No!

Dren’s breathing heavily, closing and opening his fists, his legs stepping in place, agitated. “No,” he mutters to himself, gritting his teeth. He rubs his face with his hands in distress. “No.”

“Dren-?” you call out warily, still staring at the spot where the thing vanished. Your legs feel wobbly, and you support yourself with a hand on a tree. The tightness in your chest increases tenfold and you hiss in pain. “Are you okay?”

Dren looks up at you through his fingers, focusing on calming his breath. “Yes,” he whispers.

You keep your eyes on the spot the void vanished. “Whatever you did - I- I think it worked.”

“Yes,” Dren says again. He swallows hard. “I think it did, too.”

“But – what the hell was that other thing?” you voice feels hoarse. “That wasn’t you, was it?”

“I-” Dren begins. “I don’t think so? It didn’t feel like it.”

Is that just what interacting with darkness feels like? It didn’t exactly feel like Morgan, either. But you most certainly feel them now. You put your hand over your chest and breathe deeply, waiting for it to settle.

“Why did you stop?” you ask once you’ve calmed a bit.

“I – I wasn’t ready, yet,” Dren replies. “It was a test, and now we know we can do it. But I felt like – like I was throwing you away. I want to plan when we do it for real.” He fidgets with his hands, settling down to your eye level with a huff. “This is not going to be easy.”

You cautiously approach the phone lying in the grass, staring at the innocent looking thing. Nothing about it suggests right now it has just acted like some sort of artifact of the human world, helping you gain access to darkness. Still, you carefully step around it like it’s firework that hasn’t gone off as it should.

“Seems you can do that kind of magic, after all,” you tease him gently, settling down next to him and leaning against his side.

Dren breathes out in relief, wrapping a pedipalp around your middle and pulling you to him. He hesitates. “I don’t know what I did. I thought I just connected with you without – tying, anything.”

“Whatever it was, it worked. We created the space we needed,” you reassure him, idly running your hand over the appendage around your stomach.

“We did,” he agrees quietly.

"Dren?” you say.

“Yes?”

You look up at him. “Do you have any idea what an actual fucking genius you are?"

His face slightly flushes from the sudden compliment. He waves you off. "Come now, I just-"

"Nope,” you state, reaching for him. He obliges and leans down, and you cup his face, staring him in the eye. “Actual genius, right there. Doing magic on the fly like that. You figured this whole thing out. And, you read non-fiction for fun."

Dren laughs softly, carefully putting his palms over your hands on his face. "I am a nerd.”

You grin, leaning your forehead against his. "Damn right you're a nerd."

You can feel his mandibles brushing across your cheek as he leans in further, settling with his arms over your shoulders. There’s an odd pull in your face then, heat in your cheeks of anticipation at the subtle movement, like you were expecting a kiss.

"Now we know it works – when will we do this?" Dren asks calmly. It doesn’t seem he’s noticed. “When will we try this out?”

"Well - whenever we can, I guess?" you ponder, absentmindedly running a thumb over his cheek. "I mean -"

That would be it, wouldn’t it? You still for a moment, indulging in his warmth like a reassurance.

"Tomorrow?" Dren suggests helpfully, gently squeezing you. "I will not stop you if you wish to go at once, but if you'll indulge me for one last evening, I would love to keep you for a bit. Even though I know it selfish," he chuckles. "But it's up to you."

"Tomorrow," you repeat, holding him a little tighter. In some way, ‘tomorrow’ doesn't sound very pleasant either. "Yeah. Sounds good."

Back at the cave you take a seat in front of the fireplace in the now-finished woven chair. Dren settles on your right.

"I'm sorry you went through all this trouble to craft this and now I won’t even be able to use it much," you sigh, gesturing at the item. It’s very comfortable. "But I'm grateful none the less."

Dren smiles at you, but it doesn’t really reach his eyes. "It's alright. Maybe I can trade it come spring."

"Or maybe you'll find someone else who can make use of it," you joke suggestively, elbowing his side in an attempt to lighten the mood. It’s your joke, but even you feel it doesn’t really alleviate anything.

Dren politely let’s it pass without acknowledging it. He focuses on the fireplace, and you watch as the light dances in his black eyes. "Maybe."

A silence settles over the living room for a moment. Usually conversation flows so naturally in his company, but seemingly you both find yourselves at a loss for words.

"You look tired all the time," you tell him eventually, just to say something. “I’m worried about you, you know.”

"Well, you needn’t worry, but I am tired," he replies, humored. "My body is merely preparing for the next coming time. It’s completely normal."

He sounds reassuring, but a lingering thought remains with you. Mainly having to do with who you encountered in the woods today. Supposedly your plan will work, but you’re leaving Dren behind in a state more risky than when he first found you. A gnawing guilt forces you to address it.

You grab his hand and squeeze it. “Dren what are you going to do – about the hunter and-”

“Do not concern yourself with this,” Dren says immediately, almost startling you. He looks at you intently. “This is not your issue. I’ve dealt with this before, and I can do so again.”

You pause and look into him for a moment. He’s being very genuine – he truly doesn’t believe you should fight his battles.

But there’s something else there, a subtle fear that rings so deeply into his very being, something you know he’s been fighting his entire life. And it’s about to happen again. And he doesn’t have any assurance, again, to what the outcome of all of this will be.

Still, he’s adamant that you should go. It’s almost infuriating.

You sigh. “But-”

“No. I am too fond of you to force you into any more danger of my world,” he says seriously. “Tomorrow, we will summon darkness again. You will interact with it, and you will go back home.”

“Dren,” you say patiently, equally serious. “I brought this hunter here. If they try to get to you-”

He smiles then, a fondness over your protectiveness. It stops you dead in your tracks.

“They will always try to get to me,” he says, a little softer. “They would have found me sooner or later, no matter where I went. This particular individual would have come all the same, had you been here or not. Do not take this guilt when it’s not yours to carry. Me and mine will be fine.”

He sounds so certain. But you’re not sure who he’s trying to convince.

You glance down and find one of his hands is now on your waist. You don’t know what else to do, so you simply let yourself fall into him, reaching your arms around the space where his torso meets the abdomen, your face leaning against his chest.

Dren envelops you at once. “Sweetness-” he sighs.

You share a moment of calm, listening to his gentle chittering, feeling his arms around you, breathing in his reassuring earthy scent. Then, you feel him take a deep breath before he reaches down, grabs onto your legs with his pedipalps and promptly lifts you off the ground.

“Woah, hey!” you laugh, shifting your grip and adjust your arms around his shoulders instead, when suddenly he starts walking. “Where are we going?”

“We’re going for a walk,” Dren mutters. His voice is warm on your neck, and he gently squeezes you. “Or, well. I’ll be walking. You’ll just - be here.”

“My favorite place to be,” you joke. He hums in response.

Dren brings you to the blue cave once again, the twinkling lights on the side of the cave shining like small stars.

“Hold on,” he warns, before he grabs hold of the side of the wall and starts climbing.

You let out a startled noise at the sudden movement, and hang onto Dren a little tighter.

“Almost there,” Dren reassures you with a chuckle. You get the feeling he’s enjoying this.

He doesn't stop there, bringing you up the far wall and stretches again, reaching for the roof. There’s a sudden pull in your body as your world’s is turned around. You’re upside down.

“Dren,” you protest, feeling the blood rush to you head. “Hey-!”

He turns you around and settles you over his chest, him hanging upside down, using the strings around him like a makeshift hammock. You’re lying flat against his chest, your legs dangling freely over the space where his torso and abdomen meet.

“Is this alright?” Dren teases once you’ve settled a little better. His hands are on your thighs, a reminder he’s not going to let you fall.

“A little warning might’ve been appreciated,” you grunt, eyeing the very hard rock of the cave floor below. Then you stare at the annoying arachnid looking up at you with bemused wonder in his eyes, and you unfortunately can’t find it in yourself to be mad at him. Just like he probably planned.

You give in easily, and lean down to rest against him again, and his hands travel up over your back, securing you there.

“But yeah. This is very much okay,” you sigh, feeling his warmth once again.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” Dren admits quietly, almost embarrassed. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, no,” you placate quickly. You reach your arms up to reach the back of his head, running your fingers through the unruly mess that is his hair. “No. It’s nice.”

He hums in delight at the attention.

You don’t know how long you lie there in the silence, just enjoying the quiet moment. A lot has happened, hasn't it? You've been her for a little over a week, and barely graced the surface of everything in this world. If anyone is looking for you back home, what will you tell them when you get back?

How could you ever explain what's brought you here? But if Darkness got you here in the first place, who's to say it won't get you back again someday?

Maybe you'd want it to. Then there's a churning inside you, and it turns to 'maybe not'.

“Hey, Dren?” you call out softly after a while.

His response is a chitter and a very deep breath. It would seem he’s fast asleep.

You suppress a laugh, leaving him to his rest. Your brainstorming can wait. “Sleep tight.”

You close your eyes to give in to the moment you’re sharing with him. But you don’t sleep right away. Partially, maybe, it’s because you want to remain here, awake to experience this fully. Another part, unwelcome and annoyingly clawing at the back of your mind, says it wouldn’t be wise to drift off just yet.

And why not? It’s late, you probably should get some sleep. Stubbornly, you lean your face into the crook of Dren’s neck. Still, try as you might to cling to the comforting heat radiating off of him, it’s not quite enough. Something demands your attention, and you once again find your peace broken.

Maybe it’s the disturbance from earlier that’s been amplifying the pain in your heart. Maybe it’s the way you’ve been trying to ignore it. Maybe it’s just getting stronger.

Or maybe it just knows you're going away soon. You can almost smell them.

"I'm going," you whisper to no one through gritted teeth, taking refuge in the warmth of the body you’re resting on. "And you can't stop me."

Don't, something inside you says. Don't. Please don't.

From the arms around your back to the chest rising and falling under your chin and to the faint pull on your heart, you can't tell who's asking this of you.

There’s a disturbance in your body, and you try to focus on shutting it down, anything to alleviate the maddening pressure inside of you. You feel clammy and cold, like a fever is coming on, anxious and restless. Like your body is anticipating something will go terribly wrong, despite you being tucked away in Dren’s arms, as safe as you can possibly get.

You look at the face next to you, sleeping peacefully, and lean in, pressing your forehead against his and enjoying the low purr that escapes him as you do so.

Fuck, tomorrow is going to be the roughest day of your life, isn't it? The fact that you wouldn't wake up to hearing his voice or being able to indulge in his warmth anymore? The thought makes your heart ache, the dull pull of your parasite alongside the pain of losing someone who’s grown so close to you. You brush a strand of his unruly black hair out of his face, staring at the four closed eyelids. Almost like you want him to wake up so you can talk for a little more, just bask in his presence while you still can.

How selfish. He’s nearing hibernation and needs his rest. He’s going to miss you as much as you’ll miss him, and you shouldn’t make it harder than it needs to be.

You carefully unravel yourself from his arms, silently apologizing as he stirs slightly.

Move, you think. I need to move. Get a clear head again before you’ll be able to fully rest.

“Dren?” you say, leaning back to look at his sleeping face. “Could you let me down?”

He doesn’t respond, so you gently cup his face, watching his mandibles click together as you do.

“Could you let me down?” you ask again, nudging him.

One of his eyes finally cracks open to take you in. Then, the three others follow. He blinks in succession, bleary. “Hmm?”

“I’m getting a little restless. I think I’ll go get some water,” you elaborate. “But you’ll need to let me down.”

Dren closes his eyes again and, with a groan, grips around your stomach with his front legs. He gingerly lifts you off of him, rolls over, stretches toward the ground, and places you on the floor.

He retreats back under the ceiling. “Let me know when you’re done,” he yawns.

A second later, his breathing evens out.

Slowing down, huh? The guy is close to a full stop. Good thing he’s still able to recognize you.

You get going. If anything, a brisk walk should help clear your head.

You reach the lake shortly after, letting the sights of the glinting lanterns sparkling in the dark water, the sounds of gentle droplets and flow wash over you. You sigh, and lean down to wash up a bit.

The cool water brings some clarity. The gnawing anxiety seems a little lesser now that you’ve given your flight-response something to work with, but it’s still there. Why didn’t Dren’s presence calm it this time? You were literally right on top of him.

Something’s wrong.

“Yeah, no shit,” you grumble, splashing some more water on your face.

It’s not enough. I need to move.

And go where? It’s in the middle of the night.

Still, walking feels right, right now. Perhaps you should take the last opportunity you have to do some exploration. You've somewhat learned the back and forth between the places you mostly frequent, but this system is huge - you're honestly curious to see what else Dren hides in these walls.

You huff, picking back up a lantern to continue. Yeah, that’s better. Just gotta keep moving.

#colderwriting #drider x you #monster x reader #drider #drider x reader #uv #terato #exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster x human

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