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bloofinntoona · 1 year

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A Whisker Away

Word Count: 4.4 k

Themes: major fluff, a lot of friendship, sebastian sallow x f!reader x ominis gaunt

Summary: your transfiguration spell had gone wrong - you were stuck as a cat for the day. it wasn't bad, after all you get to spend time with your friends in a new perspective - even you get to confess to the boys that you had been harboring feelings for.

So bright.

You blinked a few times, adjusting to the blinding sunlight shining through the trees in the courtyard. Everything was brighter and clearer. Your body felt significantly lighter and nimbler. The grounds felt rough and hot. The spell works! You tried to yell, but what came out from your mouth was a loud "Meow!"

"It's not a difficult spell, Y/N." Professor Weasley smiled, her motherly aura was always comforting. She was very patient in teaching you some basic spells that were already taught in the first four years of the Wizarding School. But alas, you only had a couple of years to catch up before your N.E.W.Ts.

A year passed after the Ranrok incident, you've aced your O.W.Ls, and you've made great friends along the way - especially your unbreakable bond with two infamous Slytherin boys. The three of you were inseparable, and the school knows that. However, on that specific day, Professor Weasley asked you to study the Transfiguration spell by yourself. Conveniently, Sebastian and Ominis also had to do their assignments.

You found yourself in the middle of an empty courtyard, wand ready in your grasp. You imagined a black feline cat, similar to a cat that your family had back home in London. With a gentle swish of your wand, a blue light sparked, surrounding you as you quickly shrank down, and soft black fur covered your whole body.

At least it works, you thought, Now I just need to get back to my human form. To your horror, your head blanked - no memory of how to do so. You eyed your wand, raking your brain as to how to actually hold the stick and cast the Untransfiguration spell. You started to panic, especially after hearing a hoard of footsteps approaching the courtyard. You hesitantly bit the wand, strutting to a hidden spot just behind the bushes, and set your wand there. Hopeful that it would stay hidden until you transform back into a human.

The experience wasn't as bad as you thought, you received a lot of compliments and pats from the students. You finished your class schedule for the day anyways, so no Professors would be worried about your whereabouts.

In the corner of your eyes, you spotted a small girl, hunched by herself. Zenobia Noke! You thought. It was the girl that you helped finding gobstones all over the school. You felt bad, really, even though she was a bit odd, she didn't deserve to be ostracized for a mere game. You made your way to the girl, earning a sincere smile.

"Oh, hi kitty!" she beamed, patting your head. "Want to play with me?"

You meowed in response. It's not like anyone is looking for you at the moment.

"Great!" Zenobia chuckled before going on about the game rules. You were slightly bewildered why this girl would go that far for a cat, but you shrug it off. You knew the rules obviously, being coerced to play by none other than Sebastian a while back. Somehow Zenobia wasn't suspicious that a cat was pretty deft playing the game, even winning once against her, spraying a God-awful stench towards the poor Ravenclaw.

"I've never had this much fun in a while," she giggled, even though she smelled horrendous, "I must say goodbye though, good cat. I need a shower."

As she left you, she shouted, "I'll see you again, Gobby!"

You were amused by the name, Zenobia was an odd girl after all, but she wasn't as bad as you thought. I guess I'm Gobby now. You chuckled to yourself.

As you were walking past the hallway, your nose picked up an interesting smell - a mix of marshmallows, grass, and burning rubber. Not long after, you heard a loud BANG!, followed by a massive purple smoke coming out from the male's lavatory. A few first-year students ran out of the premises, shouting as their bodies were covered in what seemed like purple dust. You shook your head, surely it was the fault of a certain Gryffindor boy.

You marched into the bathroom, finding Garreth Weasley leaning against the bathroom wall, coughing his lungs out. You dimwit, what did you do this time? You wanted to say it out loud, but all you could do was utter another Meow. "Hello?!" he jumped, "Oh, it's just a cat." He laughed at himself, crouching down to pat your back, which was now littered with purple dust.

"You see, I'm in a predicament here." The redhead looked at what seemed like a destroyed toilet stall - or whatever was left of it. A cauldron filled with a sorry excuse of a potion was placed on top of the toilet, different rare ingredients (not sure where he got them from) scattered all over the floor. "I was testing my greatest invention. But you know what they say, there is no success without failure."

If you were in your human form, you most likely already had your face buried in your palms. You don't even remember the day when Garreth succeeded in his "inventions". As you were looking around for the cleaning supplies, the door bursted open, revealing another redhead - Leander Prewett stomped into the room, face red filled with anger.

His voice was calm in comparison to his visible veins popped on his temples, "I knew it was you again when I saw those poor first-years covered in purple dust!" he crossed his arms, "Do you know how many points had been taken out of Gryffindor because of you?!"

Garreth put his hand up and smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry?" He sighed loudly, "I'll clean it up before anyone else noticed. Really. Plus, this little cat here will help." Garreth winked at you.

You groaned internally, the sheer audacity of this man. "Oh, I didn't see you there." Leander flashed you a smile, also giving you a gentle pat on your head, "Sorry you had to see this, cat, but we need your help in saving Gryffindor's house points." He gave Garreth a vicious side-eye, "Would you help us sneak into Professor Sharp's storage room so I can steal a jar of Blatta Pulvereus?"

You nodded, forgetting that you should've acted like a normal cat: not understanding human gestures. The two Gryffindor students just shrugged, probably too deep into their plan of cleaning the mess before anyone else noticed. Garreth decided to stay and tidy up as best as he could, while Leander took you in his arms, striding towards the Potions class. "The plan is simple. I'll sneak you in through a small opening on the wall, and I shall tell Professor Sharp that my pet cat wandered into the room. He'll give me permission to go in," he grins mischievously, "Unlike Weasley, my records are squeaky clean."

Leander paused for a bit, the silence was a little awkward if you had to be honest. You never had the chance to talk to Leander a lot, your Slytherin friends often made unsavory remarks towards Prewett, and you weren't surprised since there was an unspoken tension between the two houses. "Since you're a cat, I'll be truly honest," his voice was low, almost inaudible, "I appreciate my friendship with Weasley. He's a menace and a serial troublemaker, but he always makes me laugh. He was the first person to say hi to me during our first year - and guess what? They thought I was a Weasley too!" he ended his confession with a laugh.

Leander and you arrived at the potions class in no time. He let you down, pointing towards a small hole leading into the storage room, perfectly fitting your nimble body. You gave him a meow and sneaked into the room. You overheard the brief conversation between Leander and Professor Sharp, the man was definitely too tired that he approved the request right away. In no time, the door clicked, and Leander winked at you. He grabbed the Blatta Pulvereus jar in a jiffy, stuffing it in his pocket, and scooped you up again in his arms. Leander thanked the Professor, who replied with an obviously annoyed grunt.

“Nice job, cat!” Leander grinned widely, “I think you deserve a name - Ginger!” He laughed at his own joke, “You might have black fur, but you can be the third member in our redhead trio.”

You meowed loudly in response, it’s definitely a better name that whatever Zenobia came up with earlier. The two of you practically ran back to the lavatory. “Just the people I wanted to see!” Garreth greeted with a toothy smile, “You took your sweet time… I had to pretend I had a terrible bowel sickness to make sure people stay away from the bathroom.”

Leander was visibly disgusted. “Whatever, here, work your magic.” He handed Garreth the ingredient. The Gryffindor boys quickly spray it all over the purple residue, promptly diminishing any proof of Weasley’s “failed” experiment. The boys high-fived each other, and they both gave you pats, “Welcome to the redhead trio, Ginger,” Leander and Garreth laughed, “You are more than welcome to join our, more legit, adventures next time.”

“Oh, I bet Ginger is hungry!” Garreth pulled out a black-ish jello from his satchel, “I made this super food that makes you not hungry for days- Wait!”

You walked away quickly from the two Gryffindor boys, I will definitely die if I eat that, you thought, shivering.

Garreth’s remark about food did make you realize you haven’t had anything since breakfast. Your stomach started to rumble, signaling that you need some substance if you have to continue your journey. You were busy thinking about how to find some sort of human food that you didn’t realize you’d bumped into a pair of legs. You looked up, Poppy Sweeting and Natty Onai! You were relieved to see your closest female friends.

“Such an adorable creature!” Natty mused, picking you up and hugging you close. You purred, Natty always gave the best hugs.

“Poor kitty,” Poppy added, patting your head, “I can hear your stomach grumbling! You must be hungry. I have some animal treats in my satchel if you want!”

You meowed loudly in protest, hissing at the Hufflepuff girl. She was taken aback. You felt sorry, but you were sure your good friend would understand if she knew the situation.

“Looks like our little friend wants something heartier and fancier,” Natty smiled,” We are planning to visit Hogsmeade for a little shopping spree. But looks like one of our friend forgot.”

You blinked, Merlin’s balls! You totally forgot that you promised the girls for a little trip to Hogsmeade. You felt bad, truly, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t tell them that you were stuck in the body of a cat. You were sure Natty and Poppy would understand, but-

“I knew Y/N forgets about us!” Imelda barged in, face visibly grumpy. Oh no, Imelda will skin me alive for this.

Poppy held her hands up, “Calm down, Imelda, I’m sure Y/N is just busy with her schoolwork. We’ll ask her why tomorrow.”

“I’m sure she’s busy with Sallow and Gaunt!” Imelda huffed, “It’s hard enough to get us together these days… I just wanted to spend time with my girls.” Now you felt worse. You had a lot of schoolwork, but you did spend more time with Sebastian and Ominis these days. The two boys were pretty much hogging your time. You made a mental note to hang out with your girlfriends more - after all, they were always there to listen to your worries and gave more compassionate advices compared to the boys.

“I agree with Poppy,” Natty smiled, “I’m sure Y/N has her reasons. Let’s go to Honeydukes anyways. Plus, we have a stand-in over here.” The Gryffindor girl held you up to Imelda, who greeted you with a head scratch.

“Fine. Let’s go!”

With you in Natty arms, the three girls grabbed a handful of floo powder and set their destination to Hogsmeade. A green flame enveloped the students as they immediately transported to the middle of the small town. The courtyard was bustling with vendors, students, and shoppers. They hurried off to Honeydukes, with Imelda leading the charge. She rushed to a quaint table next to the window, the group’s favorite spot.

“A pumpkin pasty for me, raspberry cake for Natty, blueberry muffin for Imelda, and a meat pie for our new friend.” Poppy brought their orders to the table, setting the meat pie on the ground for you to eat. You gobbled up the pastry in no time, you knew you can depend on your girls.

Imelda poured tea for the three girls, while she set a cup of milk on the ground. “Well,” she cleared her throat, “There is a specific reason why I asked you all to meet me today.”

The other two girls looked at her intently. You jumped onto Poppy’s lap, I’m not missing this! You thought. To your dismay, Imelda’s face was blushing red. She leaned in as the other girls did the same, “Everett Clompton asked me to be his girlfriend!” Her voice gradually went higher as she finished her sentence.

There was a short pause as everyone processed the information. Your jaw hung low in shock. “Oh dear, I’m sorry- Ouch!” Poppy yelped as Natty pinched her side.

“...And I assume from your giddy reaction, you said yes?” Natty smiled widely.

Imelda slowly nodded, “Yes, I did.” she whispered.

The group erupted in cheer, as they got glares from other customers. The girls laughed. “Congratulations, Imelda, you’re the first one in our group to be in a relationship!” said Natty.

“Ha! And you don’t count whatever Y/N have with Sallow and Gaunt as a relationship?” Imelda laughed, sipping her tea. What do you mean?! You meowed, frustrated that you were the topic of the conversation, even though you can’t say anything to defend yourself. “They are inseparable these days. I tried to ask her for Quidditch tryouts, but Sallow was all up in her space.” Imelda added.

“It’s pretty amusing to see how she is so oblivious,” Natty giggled, “I swear I saw Gaunt’s smile disappeared completely whenever Y/N talks to other boys, except for Sallow, of course.”

You were flabbergasted. Were you that daft? Sure, you harbored special feelings towards your closest friends, but you were too scared to speak up. The friendship that you shared together was like a treasure that you held close to your heart. You would rather bury your romantic feelings deep in your heart to not spoil your friendship.

“Our dear cat is tense,” Poppy hummed while she stroked your back, “Hush now, it will be alright.” You purred and leaned back against her hands. You really wished you could vent your frustrations to them right now.

“So, Poppy, Natty,” Imelda eyed her friends, “Any gossips from your ends?”

The other girls and you looked at each other. Natty took the lead and shook her head, “Not for me,” she laughed, “My mother will skin me alive if she even thinks that I’m in a relationship while I’m still in my studies. Plus, I’m not rushing anything.”

“Cheers to that.” Imelda held out her tea cup, clinking it against the others’ cups.

“I..” Poppy paused, blush crept up her face, “Samantha Dale was being really nice to me.”

Natty and Imelda grinned, and you meowed loudly, “Go on.” Imelda wiggled her eyebrows.

“She’s probably nice to everyone!” Poppy quickly added, voice louder than before, “Plus, she’s so focused on her studies, I don’t think she even thinks about these things…”

��I think she’s just a nerd.” Imelda joked, earning a kick on her shin from Natty, “I’m sorry! I was just joking!” she sighed, “You should go for it, Poppy, if you don’t stay true to your feelings now, you will regret it. I am very sure of that.”

You took Imelda’s words. Their conversation seemed to drawned out by the thoughts in your head. Maybe Imelda was right, you should have stayed true to your own feelings and confess to Sebastian and Ominis. Will they think it’s weird for you to have a crush on two people at the same time? You raked your brains, not realizing that it was time for the group to head back to Hogwarts.

They returned to Hogwarts with another handful of floo powder. The girls bid their goodbyes as they took turn patting your head. “You’re a part of the coolest group in Hogwarts now,” Imelda laughed, “We’ll call you… Chamomile. Just like the delicious tea we had earlier.”

“I still wished Y/N was here.” Natty and Poppy sighed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give her a good smack when she’s back!” Imelda nodded her head, smiling mischievously.

You laid down on your back at the astronomy tower, looking at the array of stars decorating the night. The tower was the place that you often went if you wanted to find an empty spot to think. It was always cold, but you had never gotten tired of the beautiful night sky. The conversations you had with the girls were echoing in your head. You barely saw Sebastian and Ominis that day. Are they worried that you’re not around? Do they not care about you anymore? The two Slytherin boys plagued your mind. Maybe it was better for you to stay as a cat so you didn’t have to deal with your urge to be more than friends with them.

Suddenly, a pain from your tail shot up throughout your body. You let out a loud shriek, your body instinctively jumped back, fur stood up, and you hissed at the boy who accidentally stepped on your tail.

“Merlin’s beard! I’m so very sorry!” Amit dropped his scrolls, repeatedly apologizing for stepping on you.

Apology accepted, you meowed. You purred against his leg to show him that it was fine, and you understood that it was a mistake. He sighed and crouched down, patting your back.

“I’m sorry, kitty, I’m usually alone here.” Amit gathered his belongings and set down his books and scrolls on the table with a loud Thud!

You looked at him in awe. Amit was a diligent student, but you had never thought that he would stay up late to study. You jumped on the table, sitting down next to him as you scanned the books - all of them related to astrology.

“You don’t mind if I study here, don’t you?” Amit laughed, scratching your chin. You meowed in response, as if you were trying to say it’s alright.

“Well, even if you don’t understand, It’s nice to have a study mate.” He smiled, pointing at a cluster of star in the sky, “That’s Ursa Major, and that one is Draco… wait no, that is a Leo minor! And that one on the far right is Pollux.”

He sighed, “Do you know why I like stars, kitty?” he leaned back against his chair, setting his telescope down, “They are always in groups. Even if in reality they are far apart from each other, from our perspective, they look like they are never alone.”

The Ravenclaw student smiled bitterly, “I missed my family,” he whispered, “It was hard for me to move here alone. My parents and siblings are currently living in India, so it’s so difficult to see them during breaks.”

“I tried to make friends, but they are hard to come by,” He sighed, but his smile came back again, looking at you, “But you are a good company and listener.”

You are my friend, Amit! You screamed out, resulting in a series of loud meows. He chuckled, “You are a smart one, aren’t you?” he tapped his chin, “I’ll call you Taara - it means ‘Star’ in Hindi.”

You meowed gleefuly, it was the prettiest name anyone in the school had given you so far. “I bet not a lot of students will understand that,” Amit chuckled, “It’ll be our little secret!”

Before he could continue, the doors opened. “I think it’s Professor Shah,” Amit said as he picked you up, striding down the tower and put you down in front of the classroom, “Sorry, Taara, Professor Shah isn’t too fond of animals in the Astronomy tower,” he frowned, “I’ll see you again soon!”

Amit waved his hand as he retreated back to the tower.

Gobby, Ginger, Chamomile, and Taara.

Today was beyond eventful. It was almost time for the night curfew, and you were still stuck as a cat. Your limbs were tired from walking around the castle. A big part of you were grateful of this mishap, as you were able to get to know your schoolmates better. Although you spent your day with other students, you haven’t met the two people you were looking for.

“Ah, such a pretty cat.” You were startled at the sudden complement. You jumped back, eyes wide as you stared at a boy clad in shirt and long pants, a green Slytherin tie adorned on his chest. His auburn hair kept tousled. A huge smile formed on his freckled face. Sebastian! It’s me! You yelled on top of your lungs, still resulting in meows.

“A loud one, for sure.” A chuckle left another boy behind Sebastian. His eyes were light grey, as they were reflecting a cloudy storm. His hair was still neatly combed. The tip of his wand glowed, casting a beautiful red light against your black fur.

Sebastian gently picked you up, holding you close in his arms. You hoped that he couldn’t hear how fast your heart was thumping. Surely, they don’t know about your situation, right? You inhaled his scent - cinnamon, musk, and a tinge of burning wood. You shamelessly curled up to him, purring as you did so. You felt Sebastian’s chuckled, “Looks like this cat is tired.” He gently stroked your back.

“Let’s bring it back to the common room,” Ominous replied, closing in to Sebastian as he slowly moved his hand, tracing your soft fur, “We have cozy fireplace and warm milk for our little friend.”

You heard the sound of fire crackling and warmth against your skin. You contorted your body as you found a comfortable position the pillow. As you blinked your eyes open, you were laying down on a pillow on top of Ominis’ lap. The two Slytherin boys were sitting on the sofa next to the fireplace. Sebastian was lounging with a book on his hand. Suddenly you were washed with sadness. You never felt safer than this moment, just with Sebastian and Ominis, the two boys that you cared for the most. You closed your eyes again, too cozy to wake up.

“You know, I haven’t seen Y/N today,” Sebastian muttered, eyes still glued to the book. Your ears perked up as they started to mention your name.

Ominis sighed, “I know, I’ve been worried sick. I hope nothing happened to her.” You found it hard to rest as your heart was beating faster. They were worried about me! you thought.

“I think she will be fine,” Sebastian hummed, “Y/N is smart, and strong to boot. I know she’ll be alright no matter what opponents or tasks she’s facing.”

“I agree. That’s why I find her so… beautiful.” Ominis added. With that sentence, you jolted up. Your heart and mind were in a jumble.

Ominis’ fingers caressed your head, “Sebastian, the cat is awake.”

Sebastian sighed in content as he closed his book, tossing it to the side. He walked closer to you, scratching your chin, “Did you have a good rest?”

You instinctively purred. Sebastian and Ominis chuckled at your reaction, “So adorable.” said the auburn haired boy.

“You know, Sebastian,” Ominis added, still stroking your back, “Since this cat wil probably stay with us for a while, should we name her?”

Sebastian nodded, smirking, “I have a name in mind…” He crouched down to meet your gaze, “How does Y/N sound?”

You stood up, meowing loudly. They knew?! Your emotions were mixed up; panic, embarrassment, and a bit of anger for not helping you earlier.

“Hold on now,” Sebastian laughed, “I’ll help you.” He took out his wand and gently tapped your head. The same blue light reappeared around you as you turned back into human in a split second. You examined your fur-less fingers and grabbed onto your uniform, “I’m back!!” you shouted, pumpking your fist as if you’ve won a match. Realization sinked in as you heard the boys snickered. Your face immediately went tomato red as you felt Ominis squirmed underneath you. You scrambled away from his lap, curling in the corner of the sofa and hiding your face behind a pillow.

“...Just let me disappear.” Your voice was muffled behind the pillow.

Ominis was the one who stopped laughing first, “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I genuinely thought it was too adorable to see you as a feline.”

Sebastian rubbed the tears from his eyes, “Oh, I agree, as much as I felt bad, I was enjoying it.”

You tossed the pillow at Sebastian, “you could’ve helped me earlier!”

Sebastian caught the pillow, setting it aside, “I’m sorry! Truly. But I did get you back, didn’t I?” he winked.

“How did you both know it was me?” You asked, still hitting Sebastian and Ominis with whatever pillow you could find.

“Y/N…” Ominis impressively dodged the hits, “We’ve spent everyday together, how could I not feel your aura even if you’re not human?”

“Oh, and here you go.” Sebastian handed your wand back, “Did the professor not tell you to keep it safe?”

You huffed as you calmed down, “Thank you. I mean it. I was scared I was going to cough up hairballs at some point.” You twiddled your thumb, blush spreading your cheeks, “Were you both… Looking for me?”

Ominis let out another laugh, “We were panicking around the castle,” he coughed, “Well, Sebastian panicked around the castle. He almost asked the Headmaster for a search party if I didn’t hold on to his collars. On the other hand, I am searching for you calm and collected.”

“Lies. He almost cried.”

Ominis’ face turned sour as you laughed at their antics. You held out your arms and hugged the two close, “Thank you, again, you both are always there for me.”

“It’s because we love you, Y/N.” Sebastian sighed in content as he stroked your hair.

Ominis placed his hand on your back gently, “You are the most important person in our lives.” A gentle smile plastered on his face.

You looked up at them. Their confessions were stern and confident, but your heart leapt as you saw how red their faces are - sincerity evident in their expressions. You hugged them even tighter, “I love you both so much.”

#self induldgement baybeeeee #sebastian sallow #sebastian #sebastian sallow x f!reader #ominis gaunt #ominis #ominis gaunt x f!reader #sebastian sallow fanfic #ominis gaunt fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy #hl

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rd0265667 · 9 months

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Wonyoung x Reader: Tonight

A/N: Thanks to @opertabry for test reading this for me(ly bestie), I couldn't change much😵‍💫 but hope it turned out good

Permanent Taglist: @cwpiqwon@justme-idle

Part 2~Part 3a~Part 3b

After a quick glance behind your back, you ran through the bushes, a thermal bag in hand as you climbed the tree that had granted you access way back when.

"Who's there?" Wonyoung's shaky voice travelled from the room, little quavers in her voice conveying just how long she had been crying.

"It's me Wony." You whispered, as Wonyoung's eyes opened in shock, quickly running to open the window, allowing you access to the IVE dorm.

"Why are you here?" Wonyoung asked, not bearing to look you in the eye.

"I heard about what happened." You slid the mint chocolate ice cream tumbler to her, and a smile that was long vacant from Wonyoung's face appeared again, her troubles disappearing, albeit momentarily, as she scarfed down the frozen delight

Despite the situation the two of you were in, you couldn't help but smile at the sight, Wonyoung ravaging the pint of ice cream as if it was going to disappear, the unparalleled smile that formed on her face as she did. It was not an unfamiliar sight by any means, but it was still one that you hadn't seen in a long time, and missed. Watching as she gulped down the last scoops of the ice cream, the frown that had plagued Wonyoung returned.

"Are you okay Wony?" You whispered, lightly resting your hand on her shoulder as you attempted to smile reassuringly at the girl.

"I'd be better if you were here with me." A bittersweet smile rested on Wonyoung's face as she looked into your eyes, reminiscing about the warmth she would feel in your gaze.

"You know we can't do that." You clenched your fist, turning away from Wonyoung, her eyes were magnetic, and you feared what you would do if you got caught in her gaze. The same way you were caught all those years ago.

"It's not fair. Why can't I be in love, just like any other person." Wonyoung muttered out, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, though she tried her best to keep them in. Looking away, she recoiled in shock, then leaned into your gentle touch, your thumb wiping the rogue tears on her face

"I'm sorry Wony, but your career takes precedence over anything. Over us." You cursed yourself as you said those words. This was what was the best for her, isn't it?

"Isn't that for me to decide?" Wonyoung choked back tears, her mind flickering to the day you left her, the result of the agency finding out about your relationship with Wonyoung.

Wonyoung had grown bitter. Though she appreciated the life of luxury and fame afforded to her by her career as a Kpop idol, grateful for her experiences in Iz*One and now IVE, she found it hard not to look back and wonder if it was all worth it. Childhood years, where most would spend messing around with friends, socialising and having fun, Wonyoung was working herself to the bone, dancing, singing, her life subject to the whims of her trainers. Even after she debuted, the problems didn't stop, the media caring more about narratives than the people the narratives concerned. For all they cared, they would build up a celebrity, just to tear them down, if that guaranteed them a more enticing article. That was the cause of this incident too, the media trying to tear Wonyoung down for exaggerated acting in a commercial, as if that wasn't how most commercials are. She scoffed at the hypocrisy, but she couldn't help but feel small, feel affected by all the backlash, all the hate from people she just wished would go on about their day, instead of dedicating parts of their days to slandering an 18 year old.

Through it all though, Wonyoung endured it, gritted her teeth, bunkered down, and soldiered on. This was life, and she had to work hard for what she wanted. Trolls and Hard Work were not too much to ask for a life of luxury and fame. Wonyoung could accept that. But losing you was too much. Because through it all, you were there. You were there to massage her shoulders after a tough practice. You were there as the last part of a normal life she could hold on to. You were there to wipe her tears and block out the hate when the pundits decided to go on a rampage. You were there to remind her that no matter what anyone said, she meant something to someone, that she meant everything to you. You were there to remind her that she was loved, that she was worthy of all that she had worked for. So Wonyoung's light left together with you. A little part of Wonyoung hated you, hated how you could just leave her, even if it was for her sake.

You didn't want to see Wonyoung. Not because you didn't love Wonyoung anymore, but because you still did, loved her too much even. The only reason you left her was to protect her from the company, but you still cared for her, greatly. That's why it hurt to watch IVE on variety or talkshows, Wonyoung smiled, but the shimmer and sparkle in her eyes were gone. Her smile looked natural, but you could see right through it. Wonyoung was operating in a fog, heading forward for the sake of it. What hurt worse were your conversations with Yujin. As a long time friend of Wonyoung, Yujin had also gotten somewhat close to you, close enough to help keep you in the loop on Wonyoung's condition. Hearing about Wonyoung hiding in her room, barely eating, having to be fed by Gaeul, it all hurt you. Because you knew that you were the cause of it. You wondered if it would have all gone better if she never met you, if you had never chosen to sign up for that Dance Competition. Wonyoung's heart would still be intact.

"I'm sorry Wony, but I can't let you throw away all your hard work just for me." You whispered, gently holding her hand

"Remember to take care of yourself alright? If you need anything, ask Yujin or Gaeul. Please take care of yourself, stay healthy, alright?" You tried to put up a strong facade, but seeing her again hurt more than you thought it would. Having to go was like losing her all again. But you endured it. You couldn't be the anchor around her neck. Leaving a kiss on her forehead, you turned to the window

"Please. Don't go." Wonyoung's voice stopped you in your tracks. Her eyes were swollen, her stutter getting worse as her throat felt swollen, the heartbreak in her voice, it broke you.

"Don't do this to me Wony, please. You know we can't do this. I can't let you do this." You whispered back, trying to hide the tears that hampered your speech, not daring to turn around, because you knew you weren't going to be able to leave if you saw her looking at you, if you saw her in the state you left her in.

"Please, Y/N. Just for Tonight. Please." Wonyoung whispered, afraid of being too loud and scaring you away, a whisper that carried the weight of her world.

You clenched your fist, fighting against your very instinct.

You turned to her, whispering something that you knew very well to be a lie.

"Just for tonight."

#angst #rd0265667 #wonyoung #wonyoung x reader #jang wonyoung x reader #ive x reader #ive wonyoung #wonyoung fanfic #jang wonyoung fanfic #ive jang wonyoung fanfic #fluff

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sunny-porridge · 3 months

Note

*Taps mic* *leans in* It is, the Wizard.

Imagine this, Wild for the sake of fun, dresses as Dark Link. He starts to stand ominously stare behind trees in the costume, and eventually goes for a full jumpscare.

How would the guys react?

asjsjskdjsjkadfs hi Wizard hope this email finds you well

Sky: he saw Wild changing into the Dark costume a few weeks ago. Wild made a “shush” gesture and Sky nodded solemnly, Comitting to The Bit. He’s hiding behind some bushes making creepy noises with a flute he whittled specifically for this purpose.

Wind: at first he thought it was a friendly ghost (it’s more likely than you’d think) but he started getting more and more paranoid as the apparition would never speak to him or show its full form, which is a bad omen. The moment Wild jumps out, he knocks out a Light Arrow, which luckily only plucks the hat off and reveals Wild’s hair tucked into a messy bun.

Four: at first he thought it was a friendly shadow (it’s more likely than you’d think) but there was no way that creature wasn’t stalking them, possibly to give information to Ganon. He tried chasing it a few times but never got close enough before it disappeared. He turns into the Colors and quickly pins Wild on the ground who just grins and offers a deal to keep a secret for a secret.

Legend: knows a transformation trick when he sees one. Sure, he has his shield and sword out in an instant, but a quick look with the Magic Mirror confirms the truth. He decides to whip out the most chaotic items he has just to mess with Wild. Think: cane of Somaria, quake medallion, tornado rod, fire gloves.

Hyrule: he’s been saving his Thunder spell for just this purpose. He knows better than to try to fight his shadow in melee combat. If Thunder doesn’t knock him down, there’s always Fire.

Twilight: fights shadow with shadow, so he’d turn into wolfie and tackle him in record time. After which he’d recognize him based on scent and let some drool fall on Wild’s face as punishment.

Warriors: at first I thought he would be the most impulsive Link (one does not survive what he did at the Temple of Souls without significant trauma) but after some thought I think that whole experience left him with a lot of insight and self control. Thus, he would notice the foe is not made of actual darkness (Wild has his own shadow after all) and tie him up to interrogate him. Wild would Commit To The Bit for as long as possible. Sky is still making creepy noises behind a bush.

Time: The suit in BOTW / TOTK resembles him specifically. Those damn red eyes bring up the worst memories of his quest, no, quests. For this, I crown Time as Most Likely to Cause a Lethal Wound. He’d become friends with Mipha though so it’s fine.

#ngl I’d love to write a full fic for this #but that’d take me too long to figure out how to include everyone at the same time #asksksksks #ramblings #crack #lu wild #lu sky #lu wind #lu four #lu hyrule #lu legend #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu time #linked universe

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brickcentral · 11 months

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Hello community!

We've asked to our spotlighted artist Yuan He to provide an exclusive picture for Brickcentral along with some insights on how he made it, and here's what he have to say:

"I’m an interior designer, therefore most of my MOC projects are setting up in interior spaces or architectural scenes. I haven’t done too many projects in natural environment, which sometimes I found it very challenging and interesting. In this shot, I wanted to create a scene of bunch of friends gathering together in a forest, sort of like a camping trip, and in this case, it’s the characters from Winnie the pooh. In this project, in order to hide the boundary of the scene and creating a more realistic environment, I designed some rocky structure on the back, along with some trees and bushes. There is an awning at the center, and the friends of Winnie are playing music, telling stories and dancing, surrounding a fire pit, enjoying themselves and having fun. I planned the scene to be set in night time, in that way I can create contrast of cold and warm lighting colors in this shot, and the viewer can easily focus on the characters, to experience their joy.

Despite the scene looks complicated, it’s actually a relatively simple scene, just lots of random items and repeatable steps, and takes time to build. I spent almost two weeks on it, most of the time are just placing flowers, grasses and trees.

As I mentioned this is a night time scene, I needed to set up some camping lighting to light up the awning area. I’m using micro-LED lights inside of the translucent bricks, but they are not that bright, just for decorative purpose. Another light source is in the fire pit, again it’s not bright, but sometimes it would be helpful to add more details at the scene.

After posting all the minifigures, and it’s time for the big boys to actually light up the whole scene. As you can see in this photo, I have 4 blue lighting fixtures to create the night time atmosphere. The two tubes on the back are for slightly lighting up the blue backdrop paper, to separate the trees and also mimicking the night sky, will get into that later. Besides of those, the front left light is serving the purpose of creating the general blue-sky light at night, which can be reflected on the front elements like trees, grasses etc. There is only one warm lights in front of the scene, since those decorative micro-LED lights are too weak, this small cube light is the key to light up the awning and minifigures, and generating a growing spot at the center. The small LED tube at the front right acts as a fill light, specifically for brightening minifigures, restores more details on the dark side.

If we are shooting indoor, there are few tricks to create more realistic background for the photos. I used to have my computer monitor as a background to simulate the sky, distanced buildings etc. But sometimes it can be tricky, I might need to adjust lighting and monitor brightness levels to accommodate each other, or my scene is just too big to move. In this project, since the trees needed to be blended in with the “sky”, I’m using a blue paper as a backdrop to creates more depth on the scene and making it look bigger, it works great for night scene, but different scenarios like broad daylight might be too bland for just using a paper.

Hope you enjoy this project and found it useful for creating your LEGO photos. I’ve learned a lot from other amazing photographers and creators all these years, I found it very interesting and inspiring to watch how others create their amazing photos. And like I said earlier, for LEGO photographers, camera gears are not that important, what matters is how your story want to be told."

Thanks for all the insights Yuan He! If you want to read this artist profile, head to our blog at https://brickentral.net/ - @theaphol, Community Outreach Manager

#afol #legophotography #toyphotography #photography tips #toy photography #brickcentral #brickcentral member #lego photography #lego #minifigures #moc #lego bts #lego behind the scenes #behind the scenes #photograhic setup #lights

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hyah-lian · 2 months

Note

Sleepy prompt 41! With whoever you'd like. <3

THIS GOT A LOT A LOT LONGER THAN I EXPECTED. I had a lot of fun writing it tho. Hope it is fun to read. :)

--------------------------

41. “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe.”

Legend sat with his head on his palm, propped up by his knee, and watched the same child run through the plaza for what had to be the fifth time since he started watching. There were several kids wearing the same 'hero's costume' running about, it seemed to be a festival of sorts, but this one kid kept coming through the same gap between bushes and running the same path so steadily it wouldn't be a surprise if a divot was worn into the street.

If he didn't know better, he'd worry it was some sort of time loop. But no, the air seemed stable enough, there was no other odd tang of magic. Just the same kid, running the same path, through the same plaza.

Though, Gods and Goddesses alike did enjoy their entertainment too. Why else would he be on yet another adventure, and now split from the group too? Why not add weird time shit to it.

Just as he sighed at the though, the little blond streak turned to rush through the plaza again, but tripped and skidded a few feet forward on hands and knees.

Before he registered the movement, Legend jumped up- twisted knee grumbling and causing a pronounced limp- and rushed over.

"Hold on, kid," he crouched and kept his face and tone deadpan at the small scowling face and watery eyes glaring at him, "pretty bad fall. You okay?"

Bright eyes scrunched up around the sharp little nose with only a huff. A second passed before the little one turned up their palms to show off the newly reddened scrapes crisscrossing half-healed ones. Legend guessed their knees would be the same.

"C'mon, my knee is busted up too. Let's sit over there in the shade, and I'll help you out," Lege gestured back to the bench under the tree off to the side. "I've got lots of experience with patching up all kinds of hurts."

He held out his hand, unthinking, and was surprised when the smaller hand slipped into his. They both limped over to the bench and Legend helped the kid shift his legs up to rest on the bench.

"Quite the speedster, you are. You could probably power a windmill all on your own like that. Did you lose somebody, or just have a real zest for life?" Legend chattered while looking for his health kit.

The kid tensed a moment.

"I'll be careful, don't worry. I can't promise it won't sting to clean out the scrape- but it won't hurt as much as the fall. You took that-"

"'vi's lost...." the kid's eyes screwed up again, and they were swiping at them.

"Hey, if you're lost, it's okay-" Legend dropped the wrapped bottle of his wound solution to the bench.

Legend dragged his hands down his face while the kid had their eyes covered, now what?! How do I end up in these situations, I am not the guy for this.

"I'm lost too," Legend ventured, "maybe you just got lucky but found the wrong person first."

The kid looked up. Legend tried to give a reassuring smile, but it felt more like a lop-sided grimace. The poor kid looked exhausted.

"I'm with my... brothers. I fell too, and hurt my knee. So now I'm going to sit still and wait for them instead of running around and getting more lost."

A chubby little fist rubbed up under the kid's nose and eyes again. It almost looked like they bit back a yawn.

"Your turn. I'm going to clean your knee and palms, if you talk it won't sting as much," Legend tried. Maybe he could at least help the kid find whoever is supposed to be watching them.

"Missing... um," they stared at the cloth Legend doused with the solution.

Legend hid it behind a curved hand so the kid couldn't see it when he went to dab the scrape.

"Ow..." they pouted, but let Legend keep working and kept talking, "missing um. My friends. I didn't mean to hurt one, but he put on a mask, and now I don't know where he went. And- and-"

"Breathe, kid."

"I don't know where my other friend's house is anymore. And- and I miss home. But I- I think I got really lost. I don't remember how to get back-" They cut themself off with a yawn before jolting and looking around frantically.

"Tired?" The kid shook their head side to side so hard the back of the hat and the tufts of hair sticking out from under it whipped their face.

"Sure. Well. Waiting in one place can help if you're lost, your friends might be able to find you easier. And you should probably stop running around for a little bit to let yourself heal."

Legend tied off the last bandage around the kid's hand and was met with very slow, confused blinking.

"If you want, when my brothers show up, we can help you look for them or try and help you get home."

Legend busied himself with packing away the kit and giving the kid a minute to think. After another minute with no answer, Legend looked over to see the smaller hylian's head nodding while they methodically ran their finger over the newly applied bandages.

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe," Legend offered.

The kid jolted up again, but let themself relax and lean back with a little nod. Legend offered out his pack for the kid to lean against. They took the offer, quickly tucking it under their head and curling up on the bench. Legend watched the small kid trace their running path across the plaza with their eyes while keeping up their methodical brushing across the bandage.

Legend leaned forward onto his palm again, searching the plaza for any other stray kid with a festival mask, or a parent looking for their child.

An hour quickly passed, the kid snoozed on, and Legend had no luck finding anyone who the kid may belong to. At one point, two little heads poked around the tree that was providing shade, but by the time Legend turned, all he caught was the sight of a parting swish of a grass skirt and a giggle.

He groaned and rubbed at his face again. It was starting to feel like nobody was even looking for either of them.

After another long wait, Legend himself starting to doze, a small finger poked him in the side. He jumped to awareness and whipped his head to glare at a young boy dressed up like a sheikah stealth agent to his side.

"Who are you? Why do you have my friend with you?" Blond eyebrows creased dramatically and arms held akimbo as the boy spoke.

"You're their friend with the mask? Kid's been running all over, looking for you, you know. Fell down 'n everything. Thats kind of a crap way to treat your friend- they were worried."

The boy tilted his head and pulled down the cloth over his chin. Yeesh, these kids are way too young to be running amok alone, Legend thought when he was met with another round face of baby fat and youth.

"That's not me, but he is my friend too, why do you have them?"

"I don't have anyone," Legend balked. What a weird way to talk, it must be one of those things that doesn't translate well from era to era. "I am watching them because they were alone and hurt."

"Hurt?! How!"

"Zea?" The kid woke up, great.

"Yeah! You were gone for so long! My dad was gonna- got all- psssh bust a top! 'Cause the - Wait, how did you get hurt?"

"I fell, see. It's okay," they showed off their bandages like a badge of honour.

"You know this guy, kid?" Legend asked, on the border of relieved and suspicious.

"Yeah, I know Zea. He's my friend too," the kid rolled their eyes with another yawn. "Her dad lets me sleep over when I visit."

"OH- Yeah, dad said to find you because it's time for the play on the stage! C'mon!"

"Bye, I like your skirt." And with that, the two kids held each other's hand and ran off, back through the gap in the bushes.

"LEGE!"

"Finally-" Legend looked to the sky before pushing himself to standing and carefully turning, "TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH!"

"Relax, we found you eventually - why do you look so tired?"

"I've been playing babysitter to some random kid who ate shit on the plaza. Do we know whose era we're in yet? Full of weirdos."

"Pffft, says you. Everyone we've met has been delightful! Even met the King of Hyrule and his kid for a little bit. Apparently we're just outside of this era's Hyrule, and the King and Princess- er, Princx I think was how they said it, are here on a visit for the festival. Looks like this is a good place to end up while you wait for our busted up selves to heal."

"Great," Legend hopped over to grab Time's offered arm and began hobbling along with the group, "please tell me we have a room somewhere, I feel like I could sleep for a week."

Time paused, and Legend caught the smirk and shift of his good eye right before he went into action.

"No- NO! Time I- uhf!"

"I'll keep you safe," Time laughed, "I promise I won't drop you. Sleep, and this'll help keep the weight off that leg. Can't have you running around on it if you expect it to heal. We haven't gotten accommodation yet, but Warriors is working on it."

Legend paused for a moment, glancing at the bush and plaza falling rapidly behind.

"You cryptic bastard." He let his chin fall to Time's shoulder and yawned.

#linked universe #linked universe fic #lu legend #fic tag #hyah-txt #lu fic #lu time #im not sure if i was subtle enough or if i did a good sneaky job lol #but yes indeed Time shenanigans are going on #nonbinary links #nonbinary zelda #long post

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kindahornydude · 6 months

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Hungry Campers Pt. 1

Once upon a time, in a quaint little town, there lived a group of adventurous young men who were known for their love of camping and their insatiable appetites. They had been friends for as long as they could remember, and every summer, they embarked on a camping trip to explore the great outdoors. This year was no different. They packed their gear, tents, and, of course, a seemingly endless supply of snacks, and headed deep into the forest for their annual campout.

After a day of hiking and setting up their campsite, the group gathered around the crackling campfire. The air was filled with laughter and stories, and as the night sky blanketed the forest, they decided to sleep under the stars. The fresh forest air and the sound of the nearby stream created a peaceful lullaby that put them into a deep slumber.

But as the night progressed, something extraordinary happened. The campers began to stir, their senses awakening to the most enticing aroma they had ever experienced. It was as if a gourmet chef had prepared a banquet in the middle of the woods. Their eyes fluttered open, and they couldn't believe what they saw.

The forest had transformed into a magical land made entirely of food. Trees were colossal broccoli stalks, the river flowed with chocolate milk, and the ground was a soft, velvety carpet of mashed potatoes. The very air was filled with the scent of freshly baked bread. It was a food lover's paradise.

The young men couldn't contain their excitement. They jumped up and started exploring this edible wonderland. They plucked strawberries from the bushes, scooped handfuls of ice cream from the streams, and even nibbled on the marshmallow clouds that dotted the sky. Everything was delicious.

As they indulged in their culinary adventure, they soon realized that they weren't the only ones in this world. Playful candy creatures, gummy bears, and chocolate rabbits frolicked around them, joining in the fun. It was a joyful, surreal experience.

As they continued eating, they couldn't help but overindulge. Their stomachs started to round out, and they laughed about their growing bellies, teasing each other about their newfound "food babies." They kept eating, not realizing how full they were becoming, until their appetites finally started to wane.

Full and content, they decided to lie down in the fluffy whipped cream meadows, looking up at the starry caramel sky. It was there, under the edible heavens, that they drifted into a satisfied slumber.

#big boy #gay gainer #hungry boy #feed the beast #gayhot #belly boy #fat gut #short story #gainer story #male growth #male weight gain

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duskymrel · 9 months

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WWIII- SuperSoaker Edition

wheeheehee!! my first request of the event !!!

@carmensdia

You didn't specify if it should be romantic so I didn't make it explicitly romantic. Interpret as you please !!! <3

You quickly dashed behind a tree, taking a moment to get your bearings. What started out as a fun way to cool off on a hot afternoon had turned into an intense game of cat and mouse. Of course it had - it was Rook Hunt you were talking about, after all. You tried to stay focused and silent as you carefully listened for any noises or hints of your quarry's whereabouts.

You gripped your SuperSoaker2000 tightly, treating it like a lifeline; it's a game of life or death at this point. Dropping it wasn't an option. You shuffled a bit, causing a leaf to crunch beneath you. You cringed, glancing down. If Rook didn't know your whereabouts before (doubtful) he certainly did now.

You cautiously craned your head, trying your best to listen while not even daring to take a breath. Futile, of course- Rook was too good, and you knew that from experience. You continued to stay still and silent, hoping to remain hidden. However, you knew that it was only a matter of time before your opponent found you. You anxiously darted your eyes back and forth, sure he was going to emerge from the bushes like the eldrich cryptid he was.

Funny, you didn't think to look up.

He looked like a damn ninja when he leaped down from the tree above you, doing a front roll on the ground and ending in a kneeling position. He shot you square in the face with a jet of water.

That bastard Frenchman. You stagged backwards and dramatically sank to the floor, channeling your inner K-drama.

"Ah! Soldier down! SOLDIER DOWN! Oh, I can feel the string of life slowly slipping out of my grip... Gah! Woe, I shan't make it to the next dawn! Pray, tell my son I love him! Oh, Little Jimmy, whatever shall you do now that I am gone...?"

Rook grinned and kneeled down next to you.

"Ah, I'll be sure to tell Little Jimmy how bravely you died, Reine du théâtre."

You motioned for him to come closer, and he leaned down further.

"Be sure to tell Little Jimmy my last words....."

You suddenly raised your water gun and squirted him with water, jumping up and dashing away at full speed.

"EAT SHIT, FUCKWAD!"

Rook slowly stood up, watching you run. He'd track you down again. After all, the chase is the best part.

--------------------

Bonus!

Rook had backed you into a corner. Hours of back-and-forth chasing had led this this very moment, the climax, the end of the line. Both of you were soaking wet and exhausted.

"You'll never take me alive, you stupid Frenchie!" You narrowed your eyes, the two of you aiming your SuperSoakers at one another, ready to fire at will.

A stalemate.

"I don't intend to, my dear." His eyes gleamed, ready to close in on the kill. The tension was so thick you could stab it with a knife. And then it happened.

The two of you had simultaneously made a move, both hitting each other square in the chest with water. You and Rook both dramatically fell over, feigning an incredibly theatrical death. You both lay there for quite a while, dedicated to the bit.

At least, that is, until the two of you heard Vil calling Rooks name in the distance. The two of you looked at each other, eyes gleaming with mischief. There was no need to ask if he was thinking the same thing you were. You knew he was.

"Ambush?"

"On the count of trois~"

#twisted wonderland #twst #he's so silly #rook hunt #rook hunt x yuu #rook hunt x mc #rook hunt x reader #twst x yuu #twst x reader #twst x mc #twst drabble #twst crack #yuu rlly channeled their inner drama queen huh #vil shoenheit #pomefiore #dusky writes

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lakotarcania · 9 months

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Gardening is one of my favorite witchy hobbies and I’ve learned a lot the last few years gardening so let me share some tips!

The overarching theme of all these tips is listen to Mother Nature. Everything that grows in nature is intentional and thrives for a reason, if replicated in your garden chances are your plants will thrive in the same ways!

1. Don’t plant monocultures. This basically means don’t put all of the same plant in one spot. Some of the many reasons for this is it keeps pests away, it prevents you from putting all of your eggs in one basket if the garden fails, and it significantly heightens the quality of the plants. My tomatoes this year compared to store bought had 10x the flavor because I planted them among other cultures.

2. Companion planting is your friend. I like to plant marigolds in between every one of my plants because bugs hate them. The only pest I can confidently say my garden has is my poodle who loves his salads for some odd reason lol.

3. Plant native plants. This doesn’t mean you can’t still have your favorite fruits and veggies, just remember there are thousands of different types of your favorite fruits and veggies! A mandarin orange tree growing in china will have a very different life than an orange tree growing in phoenix Arizona. Pay attention to your specific climate and what will grow best there.

4. Listen to your plants. There’s no specific schedule plants follow in nature for the amount of sunlight, food, or water they get so you need to cater to them by what they tell you. If their leaves are wilted and crunchy, they might need more water. If their leaves are wilted and soft they might have too much water. It’s all about trial and error.

5. Experiment! Grow one plant normally and cut the nodes off of another to see if it produces more. Bend one stem into a bush and let the other grow as tall as it can. Every plant is different and trial and error is the best way of learning exactly how.

6. Incorporate your practice in your gardening. For example I plant my sage outside my window to aid in protection. This could also just look like growing herbs you use a lot in practice like rosemary and basil. Everything you use is free if you know enough about how it’s made!

Make sure to have fun and don’t beat yourself up over your failures! Failures are just lessons you didn’t have before, embrace them. Happy witching!

#witch tips #witchcraft #witches #witchythings #manifesting #garden #green witch #sage

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silent-sanctum · 1 year

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The Little Prince - Jotaro x Reader

♡ does this count as a late valentine's fic?? either way, enjoy this lil childhood friends to future lovers fic ^^ ♡

word count: 4.6k+

For a child, the concept of traveling to other places was a fascinating idea to ponder over—the excitement of experiencing new places to discover, cuisine to be tasted, activities to be played with, and the people to familiarize, more so those that were unfamiliar to a young child.

Though you did exhibit this almost naïve, imaginative mindset most children had, the topmost priority is not to seek the thrill of the entertaining and unknown, but to seek a replacement haven where you could flee momentarily in an attempt to move on and forget.

Fortunately, your uncle was an interesting individual who knew a lot of connections, inside the country and out, and knew how to use those bonds to his advantage.

And so, as an opportunity dangling in front of you to catch, he decided to take you under his wing, adopt you, and arrange a life in the neighboring country of Japan, where nothing reminded you of back then and a whole ensemble of crowds was available for you to meet and garner new memories with instead.

Hence, here you were—sitting on a colorful rubber bench watching him engage with the head teacher of a kindergarten, discussing your case as a foreigner and taking it easy when it came to language. You were still in the middle of learning Japanese, and even though you got decent at speaking it, writing was another thing you still had to work with.

“Y/N?” You perked at the mention of your name, turning to the teacher with alert eyes. “Your uncle and I still need to talk about a lot of things about your stay here. So, why don’t you play with the other kids on the playground while you wait?”

Another female teacher stood by you waiting when you turned to your uncle for permission. He gave one thumbs-up and you beamed, taking the lady’s hand to lead you to the kindergarten’s play area.

The place was as you could imagine it to be as a children’s ground for socialization and fun. The hallway was bright, its walls covered with papers of crayon-drawn stick figures and basic shapes, toys and books lining the shelves ready to be borrowed, and of course, all the other children running around, cheerful and loud as one was their age.

The lady brought you out back leading to a playground littered with kids having a great time. You watched 4 friends take turns on the swings, a pair giggling as they went up and down on the seesaw, another building sandcastles with miniature figurines, and the rest laughing as they engross themselves in a game of tag.

“You go have fun now, okay?” You turned to the adult with a nod and smile, despite being a bit nervous around new people. “Don’t worry. I’ll be here watching all of you.” She gently ushered you forward and with a deep breath, you walked.

Walking caused attention, and attention led to interest. The less busy children were the first to notice and with a polite yet friendly upfront, you were at the first step to bonding with them. All went better than you had expected. You found yourself constructing a tower of sand, followed by having a turn at the swing set, then at the seesaw. You ended up being at the forefront of your peer’s attention, often being the favorite, and though you didn’t revel in it, you appreciated it.

You liked this fun you got to experience, and it was fun for the first week of your time there, but something was missing. Perhaps you wanted something more than just hands-on playtime and more personal interaction. A get-along one would say.

Soon after, your new buddies decided to play hide-and-seek. Most of them were easy to find. The others… not so much. You found them behind trees, around the corner, by the slope, and so on.

But then you saw something peek out from behind one of the bushes. A tuft of black hair.

The second you saw it, it ducked beneath the leaves, startled. You figured it was probably one of your friends who’s yet to be uncovered. Without thought, you crept towards the bush and hopped forward with a playful roar.

But this kid was different.

You didn’t see him among your peers back at the playground. In fact, you haven’t seen him among the kids when you first stepped foot here. Immediately, your loud playful act settled down into a calmer and more cautious demeanor at the sight of the startled boy with his hands covering his face, particularly his eyes, and his bundled-up knees.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” you started with a quiet tone.

“W-What do you want?” He said, refusing to look at you still though there was some bite to his words that was supposed to be some sort of threat. “You’re going to make fun of me again?”

“Make fun?” You tilted your head in confusion. “Making fun of someone is mean. I just wanna hang out a bit.”

He said nothing as he angled himself a bit to look at you, the fingers covering his upper face parting slightly to get a glimpse of you. “Hmm… you’re new.” He shook his head and puffed his cheeks, sharply facing away from you. “Still… I can’t tell if this is a prank or not…”

“I don’t do pranks. I think they’re bad.” You crouched and slowly inched towards the kid, pausing from time to time just in case he grew too anxious.

“But you seem to like doing what they’re doing…”

“Playing is different from pranking.” You stopped a few meters from him, shuffling your legs until they were comfortable in a crossed position. “I swear no one told me about anyone.”

The boy continued to look at you with skepticism, his arms refusing to drop away from his face. “… Swear?”

You placed a palm over your chest with a solid nod. “Swear!”

There was a brief air of silence hanging between you two with the kid in front of you still thinking about what to do with a sudden stranger like you invading his personal bubble. Though, after what felt like minutes, he was the first to speak. “Okay… I guess I’ll trust you.”

Those three words lifted the weights off your shoulders and you broke into a wide smile. Brewing with excitement, you extended a hand to him and said, “I’m Y/N! What’s your name?”

He withdrew one hand away from his eyes to shake yours with lingering hesitance. “… Jotaro.”

“Yay! Now that we know each other’s names, let’s ask questions and get to know each other more!” You clapped your hands only to fall short at the sight of the boy’s withdrawn position. A spark in you died down at the idea that you perhaps scared him. “Oh, I mean… no rush.”

You pressed your lips together, puffing your flushed cheeks as you got up onto your knees preparing to stand. “If you want… we can talk some other time and I’ll go back--“

“No wait!” The words in your throat stopped short at the sudden interruption. From where Jotaro was on his spot with his head averted away from you, his fingers fidgeted with each other. “I… I like to talk to you… don’t go….”

With your joy coming back full-blast, you returned to your place and initiated what was the start of a blooming friendship. The first step was – of course – the interchanging question and answer about something that wouldn’t end up flat and short. You don’t know what but it was better than nothing.

That activity occupied the whole duration of your 1st day in kindergarten and you couldn’t wait to resume that the following day.

On that day, you politely excused yourself to the other children and practically skipped to the bush where your raven-haired friend sat waiting. You still startled him with your sudden appearance, but this time, he welcomed you in as you sat on the spot before him.

And that routine continued for a few more weeks during your first days in kindergarten. What started as a child’s introduction to her new unusual playmate turned into a casual friendship filled with moments of endless sharing of each other’s favorite cartoons and snacks, and the occasional mini-games you offered to play with him.

You grew more attached to Jotaro and he to you indicated by his focused attentiveness to your babbling and willingness to play with you with embarrassed pink cheeks and shy smiles.

Though if there was one thing you’d like to work on, it was letting Jotaro lower his hands off from his face or make him face you without turning his head away, but at the same time, it was wrong for you to force someone to do something they’re uncomfortable with.

However, one day, both of you were laughing at a memory you had of that one scene in your favorite show, and in the middle of your tearful giggling, you caught sight of Jotaro laughing with his hands lowered.

And when he stopped to catch his breath, his eyes opened for a second to reveal beaming bright blue irises staring at you. As a response, you gaped and let out a whispered “woah”.

They’re… Jotaro gasped at the realization, immediately jerking his head away with both of his hands shielding his eyes yet again. “You didn’t see that! Please forget what you saw.”

“They’re pretty.” The two words that left your mouth were the first thoughts that ran through your mind and letting them out for the boy to hear, made him look back at you with a sideways glance. “Your eyes are really pretty!”

The sudden compliment caught Jotaro off-guard when he continued to stare at you with furrowed brows and juxtaposing pink cheeks. “You… think they’re… nice?”

You nodded without a second to spare.

Jotaro, with that hint of skepticism, lowered his hands slowly to expose his colored eyes to you. “You don’t think they’re… weird or alien-like?”

“Why would I think that? If anything, they remind me of a beautiful gem! Or…” You hummed. “Or… what was it…” Jotaro tilted his head at the same time you snapped your fingers. “Ocean! Tiny pools of ocean held in a boy such as yourself!”

It was such an odd thought of why he thought you would be weirded out with an eye color that wasn’t brown… on why he stared at you with disbelief because you said otherwise. Then again, you kept silent about this but when you first met him, tiny purplish-blue bruises littered his arms and legs, and a band-aid stuck to his cheek.

You pressed your lips together with muted anger. Stupid bullies.

“You’re the first person to say nice things about my eyes…,” Jotaro mumbled with his focus placed on the grass.

“Really?” You reached into the pocket of your skirt.

“Mm.” He nodded. “Uhm… thank you for not making fun of me.” You beamed and reached to hold his hand with both of yours, catching him off guard.

“You don’t have to thank me,” You huffed and nudged your head to his closed fist. “You can do that by simply accepting my peace offering and being my friend!”

Jotaro tilted his head in confusion before bringing his hand close and opening it to reveal a small seashell with hues of pastel purple and orange that often reminded you of sunsets by the beach. His eyes widened in awe. “You’re giving this to me?”

“Mhm!” For the first time, you fiddled with your fingers, nervous. “Do you like it?”

“I like seashells so,” he smiled at you and nodded. “I love it.”

Just like that, the two of you grew to be best friends and for a moment, he made you the happiest kid in the whole world without the need to do anything big or fancy. Your friendship grew exponentially then, being granted more access to him beyond his quiet and shy guard.

Jotaro was an explorative kid. Even if it doesn’t seem like it considering he favored staying put behind some leaves in a small kindergarten, you picked up on how he had his moments where you brought up something he liked and he’d end up talking about it for minutes with this passionate gleam in his eyes.

He liked the idea and mechanics of planes and boats, Western movies that depict cool men as bold gunslingers or clever detectives that would always find a way to catch the hidden bad guy, comics where he’d indulge in the dynamic fighting panels, and the fishes and animals he’d see in aquariums and the open sea.

Not a single of those instances of him sharing those bits of himself was left unattended to your observant ears. You admired his enthusiasm in talking about the things he loves, how he would sport a smile with every topic of his, and you genuinely wanted to know more about his interests and just him in general.

And in some silly side of you, you hoped he was just as curious about you as you were about him.

However, unintentionally, you preoccupied the majority of your time with Jotaro that the other children who wanted to play with you during the 1st week of kindergarten started noticing your favoritism to the boy--

“Hey, why aren’t you playing with us anymore? You always liked playing with us.”

“Oh, I just like hanging out with my friend is all.”

“Ugh, are you talking about that kid with the alien eyes? Why are you talking to him anyways? He’s weird and quiet and mean.”

It took all the restraint you had in your little body to hold yourself back from yelling at them out of sheer anger and frustration on why they would think he was “different” from them. For a second, you considered tolerating a long lecture from the head teacher and your uncle for hitting a fellow child.

But could you blame yourself? Jotaro was bullied for simply existing behind the watchful eyes of the teachers, while these children got away with nothing.

Upon knowing your sudden defensive behavior around “the odd child”, gossip spread around the children and it led to petty jealousy and further aggression directed at their problem.

You’d later found out that in the following week, Jotaro had to stop going to kindergarten in the meantime because of increased sustained bruising dealt by envious, xenophobic-minded bullies.

This resulted in you completely shutting yourself off from the rest of the kids for good.

Out of simply missing your best friend, you pleaded with your uncle to do something that would give you some sort of way to contact Jotaro outside of playgrounds. With enough persuasion, he managed to get ahold of your friend’s home number from the teachers and got into contact with his mother.

What happened next led you to visit his house at 1 PM with a backpack filled with stuff that can help cheer him up—toys, snacks, and some of your favorite books that he might like.

With one ring of the doorbell, the sliding door opened to a blonde woman with the disposition of sunshine on a cloudless day greeting both of you with open arms. “Oh hello sweetheart! You must be Jotaro’s friend~”

You bowed and nodded. “I’m sorry your kid had to go through all that nonsense,” your uncle sighed. “We figured that maybe he wants the company of his playmate without others bothering.”

“I’m glad you asked for our number L/N-san.” She offered a hand for him to shake. “I’m Holly by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.” Your uncle patted your shoulder. “I’ll be coming back by 5 or 6. You kids have fun in there alright?” With one more nod from you, he smiled and waved goodbye as he got up and walked off to the gate.

You turned to Holly waiting for further instructions and she smiled in return. “Come in dear,” she gently ushered you inside and led you down the hallways until you reached another door. “He’s just reading in his room. I’ll bring you two some snacks in a bit, okay?”

You beamed and nodded, prompting the adult to giggle at your eagerness. She rapped her knuckles on the screen and said, “Jotaro, your friend came to visit sweetie.” She gestured for you to open the door and you did, allowing your entry to his room.

He gasped in surprise, immediately closing the book he had and hiding it under his futon in a hurry. However, that wasn’t what caught your attention first. The fresh purple bruises that painted sections of his arms and legs, band-aids on his elbow and knee, and the swollen left eye were.

“Ah! Your arms! Your legs!” You hurried over and got on your knees, inspecting the injuries with worry. “This bad?!”

Jotaro grumbled under his breath, shying away from your intent gaze. “I stopped going to that place for a reason Y/N. Of course, that bad.” He tensed a bit when you refused to look away, consciously covering the purple splotches with a hand out of embarrassment.

You dropped your bag to the side and as fast as you could, opened it and rummaged around to pull out a soda can that was still cool to the touch. “This is still cold. I think it still works if you do this.”

“What do you—” He yelped as you quickly pressed the cooled beverage against his bruised eye with a bit more pressure. “Ow! Ow too hard! Too hard!” His hands flailed a bit before one grabbed hold of the can as you let go.

You sucked in a breath and bowed your head more times than usual. “Ah, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

The boy stared at you with a pout and sighed. “It’s fine.” He adjusted the drink over his eye and offered a small smile in appreciation. “Thanks for the free drink.��

“I have more if you want! I also brought some biscuits if you like some too!” You said, placing your hand inside the bag, to which he waved off in polite refusal.

“I’m not hungry right now.”

Since you were told he was reading, you wanted to offer your books to him so you could read together, but you remembered he still had that book he hid under his bed. “What were you reading?”

“I-It’s nothing,” Jotaro mumbled with pink cheeks.

“It’s not nothing because I saw you reading something,” you said as you pulled out a couple of cartoon-drawn books from your bag. “We can share if you wanna.”

It wasn’t that you were forcing him to do anything. In all honesty, you were fine if he continued to reject your offer. After all, there was still the option of talking, playing with the toys he and you had, or even listening to music he had in his collection, but at the same time, you also liked to read with a friend.

“There you are again.” Your eyes widened paired with a “hm?” in acknowledgment of Jotaro’s sudden remarks. “You’re making those puppy eyes again.”

“Am I?” You tilted your head. “I’m not doing anything though.”

“Still!” He cleared his throat. “Stop staring at me like that… it’s weird.” He turned his attention to the futon and fidgeted with the sheets. A few more seconds in and he said, “If I show you, you’ll stop looking at me like that, right?”

Taking the opportunity, you quickly nodded with an “mhm!”

“Promise me you won’t make fun of me for this.”

“Promise! You know I won’t!”

Jotaro sent you a pointed stare as a warning before he reached beneath the flat mattress and slid the book out. With a reddened averted face and a shy pout, he raised it for you to see. “Here.”

“I love that book!” Jotaro snapped his head to look at you with newfound sparkles in his eyes. “You should’ve told me you read The Little Prince before and we could’ve shared so much more! Look!” You scanned through your small stack of books and slid out your copy of the same story. “I have one too!”

The Little Prince was one of those children’s stories that caught your interest at first read due to how unique and fantastical the plot was. Sure, you’ve enjoyed the more common fairy tales and fables, but this specific book held something special in your heart, and you thanked your aunt for gifting you such a wonderful present.

“That’s… That’s great! I can finally tell someone how much I like this story.” He smiled. “I’m too shy to tell mom about this since she’s the one who gave me this, but I can’t stop reading for some reason.”

“I don’t blame you because everything in this is amazing!” You scooted over to sit beside him and opened his copy of the story. “What’s your favorite part here?”

“I like the part where the Prince kept on traveling around the different asteroids and he met all these weird adults who had boring jobs and nothing else,” Jotaro said, flipping over the pages with the drawings of the aforementioned people.

“Yeah! Every old guy there is such a downer, but I like the Pilot,” you said back. “He grew out of his boring adult phase thanks to the Prince!”

“How about you? What’s your favorite scene?”

You looked at his expectant eyes and you couldn’t help but let out a shy smile as you flipped the pages until it was the one you were looking for. “I liked when the Prince met all these roses in a garden and then he suddenly realizes he misses his Rose from his asteroid.”

“Isn’t that a bit sad though? To miss someone?”

“Missing someone isn’t sad. It’s hopeful!” You beamed. “You realize that you miss someone because that person was someone you loved and cared for so long that they became unique to you among others.”

“And because of that, you’re sure that you never want to forget about them. That you want to return to them to experience all those happy times again like watching sunsets.”

Saying such words sparked something sentimental through you, even more so when you kept a firm gaze at Jotaro as if those words meant something else beyond paper. “You have a point.”

“You know what? I realized something!” You held his shoulder with a big smile on your face. “We’re kinda like the characters!”

His face fumed a faint pink and stuttered. “W-What do you mean?”

“You’re the Rose to my Little Prince!” You smiled wide as you pointed at the drawing of the Prince and his glass-covered Rose sitting atop their asteroid. “You’re prickly sometimes with your words and it can hurt a lot, but deep down, you genuinely like being with the other and want to be with them for as long as possible.”

“As for me, I may meet all these people in life, and yes while they are strange and fun to know at the beginning, I could never forget the one friend I have grown attached to over the time since we’ve met.”

You ended up speaking your heart out more than you had intended and you did so with much passion and meaning that you forgot for a second that you were simply sitting in a bedroom with a new friend you made for just a few months.

You dared to look at the said friend with widened eyes and were met with the boy looking at you with equally wide eyes and pink cheeks.

Your face heated up significantly and squeaked in realization, covering your face out of sheer embarrassment. “Ahh! Oh my god! Oh my god! I kept on talking! I’m sorry if what I said sounded weird!”

“I-It works… the other way too you know…” Your flustered panic came to a pause at Jotaro’s quiet statement. He stared into the ground without the heat leaving his head, eyes hooded and shy. “You’re the Rose to my Little Prince too.”

And it was your turn to blush as he continued. “You can be… a bit much for me to handle but at the same time, you make everything around me so much better by just being yourself. I may not realize it at first but once I do… it hits.”

“And as the Little Prince…” Jotaro held the back of his neck as he struggled to put out his next words. “I may try and forget about you as we do our own things out there, but no matter how hard I’ll try, my head would always go back to you because you’ve… tamed me and…”

He mumbled out his next words, loud enough for you to hear. “I’d miss you too.”

Speechless. You were speechless from the words that left his mouth and every syllable uttered sent little fluttery pangs into your heart, making it beat faster than before. You could tell he felt the same way based on how he had his head ducked in a flustered bow and his little fists balled tight on his lap.

You wouldn’t spare him any more seconds of him drowning in his embarrassment as you threw your arms around him to give him a tight hug. Jotaro let out a sound of surprise, gradually easing himself into your hold and returning your hug with his own.

“Who knew you’d be such a poet?” You giggled against his shoulder, to which he scoffed lightheartedly.

“Speak for yourself.”

You pulled back and gave some space for you and Jotaro to look at each other for a full minute before the both of you broke into a fit of giggles. You were glad you had met this boy that day.

“My my~ Looks like we’ve had some fun in here~”

“Mom!” Jotaro broke from your closeness and you could only laugh at the predicament of Holly opening the door with a tray filled with sandwiches and glasses of apple juice.

“Aw, it’s so nice to see you so happy with someone of your age sweetie.” She cooed, setting down the tray and patting her son’s cheeks with affection shortly after. “It makes me very happy too.” He stared at her with a tiny smile.

“And Y/N?” You turned to her with attentiveness. “Thank you for this dear.” You smiled and nodded in response.

“I like being here with him.” You looked at Jotaro, who still had his head bowed albeit with a growing smile on his face. “No need to thank me, ma’am.”

✧ ༺ ༺♛ ༻ ༻✧

“Sorry, I’m late. The paperwork came in heavier than expected.” Your uncle said with a nervous chuckle and a scratch on his nape.

“It’s not a problem at all.” Holly gestured him inside with the same welcoming aura around her. “Come in. You might want to see this.”

She led him down the same hallways you’ve passed through until she came to a stop before her son’s bedroom. With an index finger to shush him, Holly slowly slid the door open. Your uncle melted at the sight before him and sighed with a soft smile. “Would you look at that? They sure had their fun without us.”

And in the room, aside from the mess of snack wrappers and crayon-drawn papers, were two children sleeping together on top of the futon, their hands interlinked with each other.

Beside them, two copies of The Little Prince lay open for the adults to see. Both books displayed drawings of the Prince and the Rose together.

Two friends.

One unique bond to cherish.

#jotaro x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #jotaro kujo

186 notes · View notes

dovithedarklord · 4 months

Text

Age of Monsters - Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: OFC x Simon "Ghost" Riley, OFC x König

Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, POV First Person, Not Beta Read, Medical Inaccuracies, Military Inaccuracies, AFAB OC

Trigger Warning: The story will contain violance, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

...................................

Author's Note

The small group goes on a trip and finds something completely different from what they expected.

Hello!

I'm back with Chapter 13! Now I have a couple of Trigger Warnings: Death, corpses (and their detailed description), blood, gore, and violence.

Have fun! :D

I.M.L. – Infected Mammal Lifeform I.H.L. – Infected Humanoid Lifeform

if you're interested you can find the story on AO3: Chapter Thirteen

..........................................

The wild, overgrown abundance of the forest glides by like blurred spots next to the car, and although I haven't had a positive experience with nature until now, for once it's not the potential danger behind the trees and bushes that occupies my mind the most. The wind blows in my face through the rolled-down window, and as the characteristic smell of wet plants fills my nose, the apparent calmness of the situation lulls me into a false sense of security. The orange zone is a bag full of risks in itself, but Alejandro's predictions seem to have come true so far, because not a single mutant bastard has attempted to divert our small team, which is moving unstoppably towards its destination. But the deeper we venture on the broken concrete road into the heart of the wilderness, the more convinced I am that this eerie peace and uneventfulness will eventually backfire. And it's true that I was always cautious, and I believed that it was better to be paranoid than to get my ass kicked, but the sinister suspicion that had nestled itself deep inside of me is much more than that. Because it makes me feel like we're heading toward certain chaos, even though our plan seems bulletproof and ridiculously simple. I've already seen how life can wreck a detailed, masterful concept, and I can't get rid of the thought that fucking karma would love to show me again what tricks it can do if it wants to surprise me.

And it seems that I'm not the only one who racks their brains on this ominous intuition, because my two companions traveling with me exude everything other than casual calmness. From the rear-view mirror of the car, I can clearly see the unflinching expression on MacTavish's face, and only the line of his jaw tensing for a moment tells me that he would like to get right into the thick of it and show off his unique interrogation techniques. And although Riley, sharing the back seat with me, has assumed his usual steely confidence, his dark eyes scan every square centimeter of the landscape that appears through the windshield with such intensity, as if he would expect something absolutely terrible to appear in every second. His fear is well-founded, because we could easily come into close physical contact with a mutant here, but I suspect he isn't distressed by the forest and the beasts hidden in it, but rather by the research institute resting on the mountainside. And probably the concerns I expressed during our little moment on the roof last night also helped him to become so tense now. I should be happy that my opinion has such a big influence on him, now that we have finally overcome the differences between the two of us, if possible permanently, but his grim aura only gives my nerves one more reason to strain towards snapping.

"Five minutes and we'll reach the gate." Alejandro's voice filters through the radio and I automatically turn my gaze to the vehicle in front of us, where he and his faithful right-hand man are travelling, leading the way through the maze of nature like the real hosts they are. He nobly undertook this task without allowing any objections, and although I originally had no desire to argue with him being our tour guide, but in the last hour that we have spent here in the jungle behind god's back, I already know that we wouldn't have had a chance to reach our goal in any other line-up. Because even though the road, which has been damaged over the years and is full of potholes, indeed leads somewhere, it splits into side roads in such a confusing way that it is quite amazing. And this, as well as the fact that the environment exudes a progressively unfriendly atmosphere with each passing meter, only confirms the fact that Alviar is truly stirring up the kind of shit, that needs a dozen life-threatening and cunning diversions to cover its smell.

My two companions only acknowledge the information with a wordless nod, our driver is the one who mumbles a quick "Copy" and then fixes his eyes on our battered path with unbroken attention. And the fact that MacTavish, who is always up for a clever comment, is also silenced by the operation before us, could even be disturbing, if the seriousness that possessed him wouldn't be fully justified. Perhaps the rather complicated chain of developments and the promise of an increasingly worse outcome has entered into the mind of a man as well, therefore it's not surprising that he is buzzing with tense energy ready to jump into action, so that he can finally relieve the helpless tension that has accumulated in him until now. This pressure has been building up in him since our nice adventure in the city, and I have a feeling that he won't try to moderate his temper if he has even the smallest chance to unleash it on the modest person of the doc. And that bastard will undoubtedly deserve it if even one of my hypotheses is confirmed.

Suddenly, the car in front of us begins to slow down, and as we adjust to this, we reduce our already cautious speed, and I raise my curious eyes towards the gate slowly emerging through the windshield. And the closer we get, the clearer it becomes that the doc didn't leave the guarding of his threshold to chance, because although the wild greenery skillfully hides the line of the several-meter-high fence stretching between the trees, it would be impossible not to notice the behemoth made of solid metal that rises towards the sky at the end of the worn road. Although a venturous mutant would have no problem climbing over it based on its height alone, even though the whole shebang seems to be at least five meters high, the barbed wire on top of the monstrosity would certainly discourage the hungry beasts from being nosy. And when our vehiches halts at the end of our nice little journey, my nose is hit by the characteristic burnt metallic smell, which makes it quite obvious that my colleague really wanted to show off his sophistication with the first line of his defense, and he made sure to give a shocking experience to those who stray too close to the barrier infused with high-voltage that disappears between the trees. So fucking sly.

The movement coming from the vehicle in front of us disturbs me from my observations, and only a hand appears from behind the rolled-down window to firmly hold up the hologram of the verification document emerging from the communicator towards the camera cleverly hidden on the top of the gate. However, it seems that there may have been an error in the calculation, because when after a few minutes there is no reaction to the introduction, the car door bursts open with angry vehemence, and Alejandro jumps out, stomping closer with visible irritation to signal with his whole being that an important visitor has ventured to the doorstep of this godforsaken hole. He waves his hand towards the wretched camera with growing annoyence, but despite all his efforts and fervor, the gate remains closed with immovable calm, which makes my confusion grow stronger with ever-increasing enthusiasm. It's one thing that the doctor doesn't want to have unexpected and especially unwanted guests, but he must also know that if he doesn't work together with us, my Hunter friends have a couple of brutal ideas on how to convince him to be more cooperative. Not to mention that the head of an institution must be familiar with the intricate maze of the current regulations, especially if he wants to avoid them, so he must also know that if he doesn't let in our small team that came here because of the violation of said rules, then the law and fate will catch up with such force that he will never have a chance to get himself out from that sea of shit.

"What's the problem?" The masked Hunter sitting next to me finally gets bored with the wait, and calls out through the rolled-down window to the man who is slowly engaging in an elaborate pantomime show. And it's enough for me to take a quick glance at Riley to assess how every fiber of his being fills with the first wave of impatient temper, and how his body moves forward, like a big cat who at this very moment has lost its patience with its naughty little prey that constantly slips away. And there is no doubt that he also starts to lose his cool at the finishline, when in addition to all the infuriating details of the events so far, the unsuspecting fool now wants to stretch his self-restraint to infinity.

"Something is not right! The guards should've been here by now!" Comes the irritated reply from the unit's leader, and as he turns back, every single wrinkle of the ire on his face becomes visible. Based on the deep furrows gathering on his forehead, it becomes completely clear that although he harbors hostile feelings towards Alviar, and he is sure that the asshole wants to block our entry, he also knows that the doc is not so stupid as to oppose him so openly. Because by doing so, the good doctor would risk a much greater retort, and then he would have to say goodbye to his peaceful solitude, which he had been enjoying until now in the soft lap of undisturbed nature.

It seems that Riley doesn't need any more motivation to take action, because without any further explanation, he opens the door and gets out of our little vehicle to walk closer to his comrade with heavy steps. Every cell of his tall frame fills with the pulsation of his restrained fury, which inevitably makes my stomach flutter with excitement, for there is something unbelievably compelling about the way he charges forward with the unstoppable determination of a tank. He stops for just a moment next to Alejandro, who, although I can't hear the fierce words coming out of his mouth, I know that he is explaining in, presumably very colorful language, why this unfortunate turn of events is bad news for us. And this gives the masked Hunter enough reason to take the solution of the problem into his own hands, and I lean forward to follow what kind of tactics the man chooses to eliminate this obstacle that cannot be called small even the slightest.

When he arrives in front of the metal monstrosity, which towers above him with unbroken dignity, he lets his weapon attached to its sling fall beside him, and raises his hand in the air with such noble simplicity, as if he wasn't about to slam down on a solid steel door. When one of his huge fists strikes, the metal shakes wildly from the impact, and the peace of the forest is disturbed by a thunderous crash, causing the birds resting on the trees to fly out of the foliage in alarm. And although the gate doesn't yield from this terrible force, the deep indentation created at the contact of the two-winged entrance already provides enough grip for Riley's hands to worm their way into the gap. A shudder runs along my spine reflexively, causing the little hairs to rise up, and suddenly I don't feel like fighting the feeling that overwhelms me, when I realize that he is trying to pull open the walls of the gate with his bare hands. And my mind tries to scold my body, since in the midst of a vital mission it's not the time for these dubious feelings to appear, but I can't tear my eyes away from the sight. He grounds his booted legs to exert as much force as possible, and despite the looseness of his uniform, I can see how the material strains by the work of the bulging muscles on his arms and back, and goosebumps prickle on every inch of my body, because I can almost feel the angry vibrations of his power on my skin. With a deafening screech, the metal surrenders to the Hunter's attack, and as the heavy walls slowly but surely move, the empty concrete road becomes visible. And just as Riley forces a passage wide enough for a person to pass through, he steps away and turns back to us, looking pleased with his work.

"It's open now." He announces to our small group, raising his deep voice, and I can see even from a distance, as the red glow in his eyes slowly fades, when he once again hides all the destructive power of his little Hunter abilities. Based on his makeshift weapon made from a traffic sign in the previous mission, I had no doubt that he could enhance his physical strength when he activates his skills, but this is a feat I didn't know a human could do, no matter how superhuman they are. And the fact that it awakened that fucking warm tremble in me is another proof that my sanity has completely gone.

"Steamin’ Jesus..." MacTavish's utters his rather apt reaction, and the excitement mixed with admiration creeping into his voice tells me that even though it's not the first time he's seen his partner use similar effective methods, he's still sufficiently impressed by the masked man's wide repertoire of pure power. And although I share his amazement, I quickly realize that Riley has even more self-control than I thought, because, under the influence of my little provocations, he could have messed me up even worse than I had originally assumed. And the knowledge that up until now he has held the reins of his aggression with a steady hand whenever I have directed my sly little words at him or tried to shake him up with my cunning tactics, and I'm still alive, for some reason fills me with sick joy. Now I'm pretty sure I'm not right in the head.

It seems that everyone was enchanted for a moment by the show the masked man unexpectedly put on, because it takes a few stunned seconds before Alejandro at least pulls himself together, and when he does, only a broad, proud grin spreads across his face. It's clear that he also liked this impromptu performance, and this gives him the impetus to return to the mission and wave to his men, coaxing them out of the cars in Spanish. This is the point where MacTavish also decides that he has spent just enough time in our vehicle, and opens the door of the car to jump out of it with such enthusiasm, as if someone had shown a spring up in his ass.

"Come on, lassie, let's not make our guests wait!" He turns back to me, gesturing towards the worn gate, giving a clear signal that after the impressive entrance, it's time to surprise the doc with our pleasant company, if he tried to avoid it so enthusiastically. The glint that settles in the man's blue eyes promises violence, and the wicked curve of his mouth lets me know that my Scottish friend, who has been on pins and needles since the beginning of our journey, has already formulated at least dozens of ideas in his head to welcome Alviar properly. And there is no doubt that each of his ideas is full of delicacies, each more painful than the other, with which he can make my unknown colleague sing a song where the doc will spill even his mother's name just to end the fun. And who am I to deprive him of the fun?

With a quiet, amused sigh, I pull myself together, so that I, too, can peel myself out of the comfortable tranquility of the back seat and drag my pretty little ass out into the humid embrace of the forest. And the Hunter with the mohawk, after checking that I'm ready for the excitement ahead of us, sets off with urgent steps towards the damaged gate, driven by his renewed vigor, and I follow him with similar enthusiasm, so that we can gallop towards the small group in deep discussion.

And as soon as we get closer, I have the opportunity to admire the communicator, which is still resting happily in Alejandro's hand, on which, instead of the faint blue hologram of his ID, something completely different is flashing with a bright yellow color. I don't need to know Spanish to recognize from the aggressively flashing text that we've managed to generate a neat little warning with our not-so-gentle knock. And based on this, it’s easy to assess that the institution's security system automatically signals the colony and thus probably the liquidation unit as well, if something or someone is reckless enough to venture in without authorization. Of course, this begs the question, if Alviar surrounds himself with such a line of defense to keep us out, shouldn't there be someone here to prevent us from continuing our little incursion?

"What's the matter?" MacTavish inquires, and he directs his eyes to the message flashing with increasing enthusiasm in the hands of the leader of the unit, where on the map a vivid red circle marks with definite outlines the exact location of the intrusion into the facility. And from the way the Scottish Hunter carefully peeks through the opened gap and scans the suspicious immobility waiting for us on the other side, it becomes quite obvious that I'm not the only one who finds the absence of the reception committee unusual.

"The security system is still active because we received the alarm about the intrusion." Rodolfo points to the hologram, and the deep furrows between his eyebrows reveal that there is no scenario in which this could be considered a good or lucky development. Because it might even make our job easier if we don't have to immediately fight with a couple of soldiers armed to the chin in order to get into the hospitable confines of the establishment, but silence and desolation are never a good sign if you expect to be welcomed. And we anticipated unfriendliness at least, if not outright resistance, but the fact that we are now greeted by none other but the big, stinking pile of nothing is more than strange. It's Alejandro who has enough of this hesitancy and, after pressing a few buttons, he makes the notification disappear to sink his communicator back into the deep recesses of his pocket, overcoming the unusual turn of events with the ease of a true leader, only to raise his dark eyes meaningfully at our small group and return to the execution of the mission, taking his weapon in his hand.

"We continue on foot! Don't let your guard down, we can expect that bastard to be up to something!" Alejandro gives out his orders and admonitions, and there is an undisguised hostility and anger in his tone, which leads me to conclude that, based on the events of the last few minutes, he has a strong suspicion that this won't be the only obstacle and interesting thing that we will encounter thanks to the doc. "After me!" He shouts, then pushes himself through the gap in the gate with purposeful movements, being the first to take on the noble task of checking out what awaits us on the other side. And when he has squeezed through, he points his weapon forward with lightning speed so that he can pump a bullet into anyone who feels like ambushing him. But, when the brave volunteer doesn't show up and nothing happens, he lowers the assault rifle and lets us know with just a wave that we are safe to proceed, and this gives enough motivation for his men to move behind each other in single file to follow their leader through the gaping crevice.

When the last soldier makes his way through the opening forced into the gate, my Scottish friend steps to the side, maintaining the principle of "ladies first", and with outstretched arms offers me the opportunity to be the first of our little trio to step onto the riddle-filled grounds of the facility. And I only raise one of my eyebrows and fix my eyes on the man, wondering when had he become such a gentleman, but finally accepting his sudden chivalry, I walk past him to slide through our entrance. When I cross the threshold, I'm greeted only by the emptiness, which for some reason seems even more peculiar now that I have the opportunity to take a closer look at the place. And as I divert my bright eyes, I see a small cabin resting peacefully next to the gate, where our cars waiting on the broken road greet me through a very well-functioning screen, and I immediately feel that something is very wrong. There is a single plastic bottle on the table, its wall thickly painted by the vapor of the water inside it, and I suspect that it must have been there for a long time if its contents could turn opalescent. That bottle must have been sitting in the stuffy booth for at least days, not an hour or two, to look like this. And I highly doubt that it's lying there forgotten only because of the carelessness of its owner.

But soon I'm jolted out of my contemplation, because I hear the two remaining Hunters arrive behind me, and as I break away from the strange view, I turn back and catch Riley, who, after MacTavish, is the last to press himself through the crack made by his busy hands. When he straightens up upon arrival, he checks the landscape shrouded in immobility around us with the momentum of his routine, to his eyes to then stop on the same small hole, the mystery of which I analyzed so enthusiastically not long ago. Despite the mask, it's easy to recognize the suspicious expression that appears on his face, although I only see thin but grim lines around the skin covered in black paint, as his eyes slowly narrow when he takes in the details of the scene left behind in a haste. And the fact that it also fills him with a sufficient amount of foreboding to dwell on it, only reinforces the whispering of the ominous voices in my head, warning that it's better to be careful, because this could be something other than just the doc trying to hide his ass.

"Let's go! The building is not far!" Alejandro calls out suddenly, drawing everyone's undivided attention to him again, motioning towards the road, which is hidden from prying eyes by lush green plants swaying lazily in the wind, as it meanders peacefully into the unknown. And in other cases, this sight could even be idyllic, but now it only awakens the unease that grows stronger in my skull with every passing minute. Because there is nothing normal in the fact that such a mysterious institution doesn't react to the intrusion of the official bodies into their harmonious little living space, which they have tried to protect with all their slyness until now. And I catch the worried furrows frozen on our leader's forehead and the dour downward curve of his mouth just in time, before he sets off followed by his loyal companion and his men, but even this fleeting moment is enough for me to deduce from his expression that we are walking into a party that I'm not sure we are prepared for.

"Let's not fall behind." Riley steps next to me, and although there is nothing in his voice apart from the usual deep hoarseness and his confidence, my keen senses quickly recognize the tension pulsing from him. It's no wonder that his mood is slowly becoming more and more gloomy, because anyone with a little sense knows how abnormal the suspicious smoothness of the mission so far is. But this is probably not the first time the masked man has encountered a mystery like this, because although he doesn't lose his caution, he quickly steels himself, and with only one last glance at me, he rushes forward with his friend close at his heels, so that they, too, could start sneaking carefully behind Alejandro's small team, picking up the pace dictated by the leading Hunter with the experience of the professionals. And I hesitate for just a moment to take one last peek at the cubicle frozen in unsettling silence, to then turn my back on the stillness that prevails in it, to catch up with my little buddies who are already moving forward with hasty steps. After all, no matter how fast the questions multiply in my brain, I won't find the answers here.

As soon as I reach them I fall in line with them, and for a minute I wonder what this extra precaution is for. Unquestionably, the doc doesn't like us, but I doubt he'd be so foolish as to try to attack four Hunters and six battle-hardened soldiers in the back. Not only because the sharp senses of the Hunters would recognize the danger lurking before they have the opportunity to strike, but also because it would strengthen our assumptions about his illegal activities more than any words could. After all, someone who has nothing to hide doesn't need to aggressively defend said nothing. But as my gaze wanders, taking in all the hidden little parts of the road ahead, I quickly understand that this thoughtfulness is not for Alviar's slyness. Much more to the bleak silence that follows us the deeper we drift into the recesses of the institute's territory. It's as if the gate we fought our way through was meant to keep out not only the wild beasts hiding in the wilderness, but to restrain the heavy atmosphere that settles here, which descends on us like a suffocating blanket. Although everything seems peaceful, not a single sound filters through except for the crunch of the debris drifting under our boots and the soft rustle of our clothes, and the whole thing feel as if we have entered into a fucking ghost town. An actively functioning institution buzzing with people shouldn't be so terribly quiet, especially when the boss here has tried so hard to keep visitors away.

And with every meter I walk, the grip of restlessness inside me grows harsher, causing my limbs to fill with tension, as if I should expect an ambush from behind every blade of grass or bush swaying comfortably in the warm breeze. The fact that instead we are surrounded by the same maddeningly lifeless calm stretches the sharpened attention of my nerves even more. It seems that the two Hunters marching in front of me are not much happier with the ease with which the mission has been progressing so far, because I only have to observe the muscles dancing on my Scottish friend's forearm, as he tightens his grip on the hilt of his weapon, or to take in the stiff line of the masked man's broad back to know, that I'm not the only one who is filled with concerns by the absence of the warm welcome we had anticipated. But when MacTavish, who has been diligently observing every square centimeter of the road, turns his head toward the uphill curve of our little path with the speed of a bloodhound that has caught a scent, I feel the nervous tug of foreboding in my stomach. Because even though I can only take a look at the man's profile as he looks meaningfully at Riley, who is walking in front of him, but from the way he pulls his mouth into a disgusted frown I quickly understand, that his super senses must have detected some unusual shit from the end of the footpath leading to our destination.

"Do ya feel it too, Ghost?" The Scottish Hunter mutters grimly, and there is no trace of the fun and relaxation that he managed to bring here with him until now. He doesn't explain what he found with the help of his sharpened perception, but the troubled arch of his furrowed brows is enough evidence that it may have something to do with our disturbingly smooth break-in.

"Yeah." The masked man answers curtly, and there is something inscrutable in his voice, which only crowns the dark look with which he stares ahead, as if he would already know something that no one else has figured out yet. As my gaze wanders to our two tour guides who are walking far ahead, I can see from the unsettled look they share that they also noticed the exciting little detail that made the aura of the two Hunters so terribly sinister. And even though my sharp little eyes run over the endless green blanket of vegetation stretching around us, the same tense peace greets me, but the voice in my brain assures me that I don't need to worry, and soon I too can experience what they managed to pick up on so quickly.

And although they don't share what they found so early on with the small team, the gloom emanating from the Hunters certainly lays the foundation for the watchful tension that eats itself into everyone's consciousness with the vileness of an infectious disease. And suddenly the whole group becomes a bundle of nerves, and perhaps with even more vigilance than before, they continue their troop along the wretched path, broken by the roots. The next few minutes pass with such torturous slowness, as if we had left the walls of the gate leading to the outside world at least a thousand years ago. When we finally reach the end of our trail, the building of the rather imposing research institution is revealed, which stands out at the end of the neglected courtyard with such unusual prominence, as if its creator had intended to attract attention rather than to hide from it. One would think that a private institution of this level would be able to afford to have someone keep it in order, but the area that extends to the building gives the impression that this noble task hasn't been fulfilled by anyone for a while now. And the hurriedly parked car resting untouched in the middle of everything doesn't help either. Based on its position, my guess is that whoever forgot this vehicle here, didn't intend to stay for more than a few minutes. But judging by the undisturbed layer of leaves sitting thickly on the top of the car, and the absence of any kind of wheel tracks, I can rightly conclude that the owner didn't leave the machine here for a short time, but it was probably left behind just long enough to raise a series of suspicious questions in my brain.

But this strangeness doesn't scare away the little squad, they wade forward with unceasing enthusiasm through the blanket of branches and leaves that cover the ground, and when I diligently follow them and sneak closer, then out of nowhere, like an unexpected surprise, a strange stomach-turning smell creeps into my nose, and I suddenly understand that there may be a serious reason why no one was bothered by the abandoned car. Because although I have never felt a stench like this in whole my life, every single one of my muscles is filled with sinister energy, and the instincts in my subconscious immediately convey the message to me that this can only belong to a source that I should better stay away from. And although a repulsed grimace swims to my face, still, like a puppet being pulled on a string, my legs carry me through the desolate field, and the crunch of sun-dried plants under the soles of my shoes reaches my ears as a dull noise, as I follow Riley striding with deliberate steps in front of me, who must have felt this exact delicacy together with his Scottish bosom friend before. The closer we get, the stronger the smell becomes, as if the building were spreading like a festering wound in the middle of the undisturbed calm, just waiting for someone to unravel its mystery. And morbid curiosity awakens in me, as I fix my eyes on the double-winged metal door leading inside, because although the warning voice in my skull tries to hold me back with tooth and nail from venturing too close, the unanswered riddles prove to be a much greater temptation.

However, with Alejandro in the lead, the group suddenly stops, as if trying to muster up the strength to finally cross the threshold of the godforsaken structure. And for some reason, I get the feeling that whatever is behind the elegantly crafted entrance, it must be serious, if the unit leader must find his composure to face it. If I take into consideration the multitude of ominous signs that have accumulated so far, which we have encountered in every step we took in the short journey that led us up here, then I realize that the man's sour mood could be quite well-founded. And based on my experience so far, my intuitions are rarely wrong.

"We're going in. On me." Alejandro gives out his instructions, and even though I haven't known him for a long time, yet in the the to-the-point command, I feel the unspoken harsh edge with which he prepares his men for the worst. And when he wraps one of his gloved hands on the metal bar running along the door and opens it with a decisive movement, all the troubled wrinkles and grim looks, as well as the strange, deserted emptiness that has accompanied our journey until now, gain meaning. Because, as soon as the golden light of the sun penetrates the darkness inside, I only catch the outline of the motionless bodies spread out in the large lobby for a minute, and my brain can immediately place what it was that held back the people from showing us their hospitality.

But I don't have much time to admire the interior of the institute wallowed up by darkness, because the force of the stench, which I had only mildly felt before, reaches me in a big wave, as it fills every corner of my nose. My stomach instinctively twists and shoves its rumbling contents up my throat as the repulsive smell of rotting flesh fills every single one of my senses like an inescapable slithery parasite. And as the nausea convulses my insides, I stagger in confusion, looking for support, because I feel my mouth suddenly fill with saliva with dangerous quickness by the nauseatingly sweet aroma. When my trembling hand finds the rough surface of the wall, and I finally don't have to fear that I will end the day sprawled on the ground from the dizziness entering my head, even before we could reach its peak, then my palm almost painfully clings to my mouth to try to hold back the stomach acid, that is slowly gnawing up my esophagus, before it can spill out of me. And I feel the tears start to sting my eyes when I gag violently, and I need every single nerve to convince myself not to give in to the stimulus that twists my stomach mercilessly.

Even my fast little body needs a few nerve-wracking minutes before I manage to force the contents of my upset stomach back into place while slowly breathing through my nose, and the vehemence of the onslaught of the penetrating smell of corpses eases a little. I'm suddenly disturbed from my deep concentration by a huge hand, which settles on the back of my neck, emerging from my shirt, with surprising tenderness, squeezing it gently, thus tearing me out of the exhausting work of banishing my sickness. And even despite the nausea terrorizing my body, I have the strength to be surprised, because the sight of Riley bending over me and pulling me into the protective cover of his burly figure, as if he wanted to spare my dignity, which was quite enthusiastically triggered by the surprise of my first authentic encounter with the reek of rotting remains. But perhaps what is even more unexpected is the scarf offered to me, which rests in his gloved hand with such self-evident casualness, as if this weren't the first time he had surprised me with such a selfless gesture.

"Wrap it around your face." He suggests, and although based on the hoarse edge hidden in his accent, his message sounds more like an instruction, but as my gaze intertwines with his, the restrained soft glint in the dark eyes seems quite real, with which he slowly searches through every pitiful part of my person clinging to the wall. And I get the feeling from this small thoughtfulness, which is completely foreign to him, that the peaceful little moment we spent last night on the roof truly helped him to finally soften up to me. But before I could start thinking about this at the most inconvenient time, I accept the material offered without any arguments or questions instead, to gather my composure and straighten myself up. As the comforting warmth of his palm leaves my neck, for a moment the feeling of absence hits me with a painful force, but I follow his advice and wrap my face up to the middle of my nose in the thick textile before my consciousness has time to process how ridiculously good the weight of his touch felt on my goosebump-flecked skin.

"Thank you." I squeeze the words out of myself, and I need all my will to bring determination back into my voice. Because even though at the first stray inhale, that hideous stench finally disappears from my nose, it's replaced by the man's characteristic scent, and this helps drive the nausea aways from my stomach with completely unreasonable speed, so that something entirely different moves in its place. And it's almost ridiculous how quickly my body manages to calm down from the sickness that has been tearing at me until now, as Riley's essence snakes into every cell of my being, in which I discover traces of the bitter smoke of tobacco and the spicy, salty aroma of his skin.

When he sees that I've managed to regain my presence again, and that the ash-gray color of my face has probably become several shades healthier, he gives me one last fleeting glance and wordlessly joins MacTavis, who is waiting in front of the entrance. And on the face of my Scottish friend, the curve of his lips pressed together with worry softens, as soon as he realizes that I will no longer pass out from the phenomenally nice gift that welcomed us in this miserable shithole. And my soul is completely warmed by the way, despite the not-so-bright developments so far, an encouraging half-smile appears on his stubble-framed mouth, before he disappears with his masked friend behind the open metal door, leaving me alone a little longer in my solitude. And after I finally regained control over my body, I realize that several questions that had tormented us so enthusiastically until now found a fairly simple answer. After all, why would the reception committee have rushed to meet us if every single one of its members was dead?

And from this, the confidence finds its way back into my limbs, and my feet guide me with a sense of purpose to the mouth of the building stinking of decay, and the demanding desire for knowledge igniting in my head helps to make my steps so urgent. I only hesitate for a minute, until I get used to the dull darkness that settles in after the blinding sunlight, and when my vision finally sharpens, I enter into the next scene of our investigation. My gaze glides over each and every piece of the unfolding murder, and as I cautiously wander in, the more details I manage to notice. Even though I have Riley's scarf over my face, even through the cloth the smell of death lingers in the dark foyer, which has soaked itself into every pore of the place as if the once luxurious room had turned into a gangrenous ulcer. Even before the chaos swept through here, the consequences of which we are now forced to tiptoe around, this could certainly have been a room imbued with professionalism, which would have impressed anyone who set eyes on it. Now, however, this decorative interior is disfigured by the decomposing bodies of the slain victims on the ground, around whom, mixed with dirt, the dry, dark brown stains of the liquids from their slaughtered flesh and decay have soaked into the floor's pale cream tiles. Only a female figure in a lab coat lying in the middle of the hall, dirty with coagulated blood, reveals that whoever broke in here didn't spare the unarmed researchers either. From the white of the documents spread around the remains of the woman's head, the small, torn pieces of flesh and bone fragments stand out unnaturally, bearing witness to the brutality with which the damn scums who wrecked this establishment were able to execute the staff who, even though were dealing with some illegal business, were perfectly defenseless.

"So that's why they kept quiet." Alejandro states glumily, muttering a Spanish swear word under his breath, fiercely scanning the walls, which in some places have been painted with abstract patterns by the dark drops of blood splattered on them, standing out from the pale blue plaster intended for comfort, like some grotesque frescoes. And the man's statement cleverly points out the now rather obvious reason, which can justify why Alviar and his employees turned away from their duties and the outside world in the last two weeks. There could have been a thousand and one reasons why the institution went into voluntary exile, but the fact that such a ruthless but rather simple explanation lies behind the events is not good news at all. In fact. It's downright disastrous. Because it means that whatever was hidden here was valuable enough that the senseless massacre of dozens of people was considered a fair price.

"From the condition of the corpses, their death may coincide with radio silence." Riley crouches down to one of the bodies covered in a dark uniform, around whose mouth opened to a silent scream, flies circle merrily, as if they had arrived at a real buffet reception. From the point of view of these bugs, this could be true, and based on the discovery of the masked Hunter, they have been enjoying this celebratory lunch spread with bloodshed for two weeks at least. And this complication that has arisen is the exact reason that makes it so dangerous for a private institution to stray far from the protective proximity of the colonies, because if such bad luck befalls the unsuspecting victims, the authorities will only be informed of the trouble when even its memory begins to fade.

"What the bloody hell happened here?" MacTavish asks the most important question, and his voice is filled with the hot edge of the raging fury inside him, and this is the poison that helps his facial muscles turn into a frown full of anger, and which echoes with a wild gleam in his slowly narrowing blue eyes. It's clear that although he wanted revenge on the doc for the adventure in which he got to watch his comrades being eaten alive by the wretched mutants, I don't think he had this kind of justice in his mind. And as he moves his gaze over the same female figure on whom I had previously lingered, his jaw clenches with such force that I can almost hear his teeth grind from afar.

"These are members of the security staff." Rodolfo points to another corpse wrapped in a black uniform with the barrel of his machine gun, whose ID card resting on its chest clearly testifies to the truth of the Hunter's claim. "But there are also researchers among the dead." He adds, gesturing with his hand towards one of the figures who once probably wore sterile clothes, whose body, frozen in an unnatural pose, had been mutilated beyond recognition by the dozens of bullets, which left gaping bloody holes on the battered textile. Whoever paid a friendly visit here didn't leave the success up to chance, did a fairly thorough job, and they didn't spare the ammo, if they could surely help the victims to the afterlife with it. The whole sad situation shows the kind of cruelty that only a real, calculating, and totally sadistic bastard can do. Because there was no need to kill these unsuspecting people in the midst of such merciless carnage, yet someone most certainly found pleasure in executing these mostly defenseless poor souls. And I only have to observe the direction of the corpses in which they are lying on the ground, with their backs staring up at the ceiling, and it becomes completely clear that most of them were killed during their desperate escape towards the exit. As if someone wanted to give them the false hope of survival, only to slaughter them a few hopeful meters before the finish line. And that's fucking cruel even for me.

"Someone has turned the place upside down bloody well. They made sure that no one was left who could spit out what had happened." My Scottish friend remarks darkly, and as his gaze continues to wander from victim to victim, the poison flowing from him in restrained waves becomes more and more menacing, which makes him look like a wild animal enraged to the extreme, just waiting to finally snap the neck of the one who provoked him. I suspect that this enthusiasm is shared by all the members of our small team, who stopped in the hall in shock, because the trash who did this, even with the greatest kindness, would deserve someone to make a seat cover from their flayed skin. I'm not a saint either, and I've caused a painful death for others, but even I'm not as psychopathic as to give someone such an inhumane and dishonorable end. Because these people were butchered like animals. For a purpose, no doubt, but mostly for fun. And it occurs to me again that this circumstance is another piece of evidence that points to the fact that there is some very disturbing connection between the dear doc and the I.H.L.s, which someone sniffed out much earlier than we did.

"Now it’s certain that Alviar was involved in something serious." I divert everyone's attention from the revealed horrors back to the original goal of our mission, and although the situation is becoming more and more complicated, it doesn't change the fact that we came here because of our new mutant friend. And current developments only slightly modify the questions to which we are looking for answers. Because now it's quite certain that the mystery of the mutant-riding I.H.L. comes from here, we just have to find out what could be so maddeningly interesting about it to make someone go through such a blood bath. "Whoever did this came for the same reason we did. We need to know what lured them here." I declare firmly, and as all eyes are fixed on me, I know from the seriousness hidden in them that everyone has come to this rather dire conclusion in light of the sad discoveries that awaited us. And I don't need to add the fact to my brief warning that whatever the perpetrators have found, they have a two-week head start on their side, and that's just enough for them to concoct and carry out the clever plan they stumbled here as a part of. Because this isn't the work of chance, someone wandered here for a good reason, and we have no idea why. We only know from the cruel reminders scattered around the hall that they are not afraid to resort to drastic solutions if it’s in their interest. Fuck.

But the heavy silence that settles over the group only lasts for a few seconds, and then it's Alejandro who takes control again, and his dark eyes sweep over the room with the thoroughness of a hawk searching for prey, before settling on the counter opposite the entrance. He seems to have found what he's been looking for, as he dashes across the chaos-filled stage and rushes to the small table that must be serving as a reception desk, as if he's stumbled upon some critical detail. When he arrives, he walks around the tasteful furniture with nimble steps, and then lifts the framed drawing resting on the wall with a few light movements. And when he lays the picture frame down on the surface of the polished wood, he only waves towards us with his hand, inviting us closer with a few quick Spanish words, so that we can admire together the work he snatched from the wall. And he doesn't even have to coax anyone to cooperate, because the soldiers scattered in different corners of the room set off without question at the command of their leader. My two companions break out from the further study of the traces of the massacre to rush closer, and I, following their example, carefully dodging the disintegrating remains stretching out on the ground, head towards the assembly. And when I stand between the Scottish man and his masked friend, I finally have a chance to look at the wonder that the other Hunter has discovered. And he got his hands on a really useful little thing, because behind the glass, the floor plan of the research institute unfolds with precise care, revealing all the exciting nooks and crannies hidden in the depths of the building.

"We're separating into groups up." Alejandro begins to outline his plan and points to a room which, based on the drawing, opens from the front hall and stretches to the entire length of the ground floor. And even though every classic horror movie that I watched secretly in the archives at school when I was a young teenager begins with this kind of trick, I don't panic now, because I have the right to assume that we will be in for a completely different kind of surprises than in those unique works of art. "Rudy and I check the security office to see if there are any traces left. The security system is still active, there must be something." The Hunter explains, and based on how his brows knot together, I know he's just hoping that they'll find something useful. Because, indeed, the security system didn't go kaput despite the chaos, but the rational little voice in my head warns that this could have been a very deliberate move on the part of the bastards who broke in. After all, after a bloodshed of such a caliber, there is no single-minded fool who wants to lead the righteous hands of the authorities to themself, and I highly doubt they forgot about the cameras that watch every corner of the building with prying eyes. It’s more likely that this inconvenience was circumvented by a sly trick.

"I check Alviar's office." MacTavish announces, tapping at the sizeable room on the first floor on the map, on which the precious name of the head of the institution is outlined in fine letters, announcing that the ridiculously large office has been placed in such a central position to serve his ego, even on this wretched paper. And I have a feeling that, as a poetic twist of fate, death probably caught him in that neat hole, and his deteriorating remains are now waiting to be found there. It's quite certain that they didn't let him live, because the one who came here didn't care about the doc's knowledge and influence, but the goods. And for that, it was probably much more beneficial if no one was left alive to hinder the process.

My bright eyes run inquisitively over the side-by-side sketches that reveal the floors of the building, and although all the inscriptions inform me in Spanish about the names of the structure's parts, I don't need to be a particular genius to recognize the heart of the research institute in a huge room that occupies an entire floor, well hidden from the world. Based on its size, it's also clear that they spared no expense when creating it, which wouldn't be a particularly unusual fact, but based on the increasingly complicated series of twists and turns so far, I can rightly conclude that it was some shady research that made it necessary to pack the basement full with tiny rooms, a gigantic laboratory, and that slightly suspicious chamber that isn't marked even on this ridiculously detailed map. It's as if the doctor didn't want to risk putting even the mildest-sounding name on it, just in case someone becomes involuntarily curious as to what they might have hidden there. Bingo, here we go.

"The central lab is in the basement. We might find there what we originally came for." I select the next destination, where the reason why we crossed the zones teeming with beasts and dragged ourselves all the way here can lie. And my thirst for knowledge is hungrily straining my consciousness, especially now that I know that we probably weren't the only ones who felt so terribly interested in what the doctor so enthusiastically hid from the world and curious eyes.

"We're goin’ to go down there." Riley declares firmly, clearly aiming at the two of us with this stray sentence, and I just turn to him curiously, as I tear my gaze away from the examination of the floor plan. And although I find it interesting that now he chooses my company instead of his bestie to hang out in the institution that has become a deserted haunted house, despite his emphasis that doesn't leave any room for arguing, I don't feel like rejecting his offer. Now I'm not afraid to admit even to myself that I'm much more glad that this rather dangerous man will follow me as my scary shadow, and hopefully protect me from what will most certainly lie in wait for us in the unknown. Although I doubt that bloodthirsty beasts would ambush us, one can never be too careful, and who would be better suited to effectively neutralize unexpected and quite life-threatening threats than him? And it's also dead certain that whatever awaits us down there, the Hunter will be the most dangerous thing I'll find myself in the same airspace with, in this cursed place turned into a graveyard.

"Be on alert." Alejandro gives us his last advice for the trip, moving his eyes meaningfully over the people gathered. And after everyone lets him know with a curt nod that they got the message, he pushes himself away from the counter without further hesitation, pats Rodolfo on the shoulder, and sets sail towards the showy door resting at the far end of the room, with some of the busy little soldiers behind him, who follow their leader towards new excitements like ducklings.

"Be careful, who knows what kind of boogeyman is down there!" MacTavish steps back, despite the suffocating atmosphere, trying to infuse us with some enthusiasm before we all head off toward our ominous destinations. But despite the tiny little half-smile on his face, the doubt in his eyes doesn't escape my attention, letting me know quite clearly that he feels anything but calm about our current action. Although he wears the mask of professionalism he has acquired over the years, he cannot hide from my searching eyes the grim tension that settles in his entire being, which makes his steps more hurried than necessary, as he turns his back on us and heads towards the glass door leading to the stairway. He understands as well that the disturbed state of the institution doesn't bode well, even if we find clues. Because even if we find answers, there will be some more important detail that someone else already got their vile hands on.

"Let's go." Riley gives the jump-start, and I take one last look at our map and nod in agreement, memorizing the small details that my brain calls my attention to check later. And when I also leave the place of our impromptu meeting at the counter, I take my gun from my belt and turn to the man, who, after making sure that I'm ready for our little adventure together, searches for the metal door leading to the basement and starts out towards it with firm steps. I quickly follow him, staying closely behind his tall figure, nobly letting him have the task of clearing the way in front of our pair. Fixing my eyes on his back, I almost instinctively pick up the pace with which he marches across the lobby, once again shrouded in stillness, as if my body would automatically switch to the cold sense of purpose that fills every fiber of his body as he leads us through the scattered sea of chaos and the dead. And the sudden harmony between us seems so natural that even my overworked brain doesn't stop to question why.

When we reach the entrance leading to our destination, the man only stops for a moment, just long enough to prepare for the attack, should a surprise await us on the other side. But as he pushes the metal in with one of his large palms, despite pointing the barrel of his rifle forward at lightning speed, nothing awaits us but the silent darkness, which calls us closer. This development doesn't surprise me, but it calls for a fair amount of caution, because the voices of suspicion lurking in my head tell me that although the quietness that greets us seems uninhabited and harmless, this feeling has already skillfully misled us upon our arrival.

"Stay behind me." The Hunter orders, looking down at me behind his back, but there is something quite soft hidden in his deep voice, which makes this small sentence far from seeming like an command, but more like a request with which he wants to ensure my physical safety. And with all my strength, I suppress the ferocious warmth in my stomach before it can bubble up unreasonably at the worst moment, because now we have to focus on the task, which, based on the man's wariness, could potentially hide more risks than the lifeless emptiness waiting for us behind the threshold with open arms shows.

With a quick nod, I signal that I have taken note of his brief wish, and as the red light in his eyes flares up, he wordlessly enters the dark room, and I remain obediently close to him. Accompanied by the dull light filtering in behind us, we venture inside, creeping with steady movements, and then after a few wandering meters, we find the steep stairs that, according to the floor plan, lead to the lab. The masked Hunter raises his weapon in front of him with unwavering enthusiasm and slowly moves to the steps covered in light tiles, scanning the pitch darkness in front of us with his smoldering eyes. Even I'm surprised by the unity with which we penetrate deeper and deeper into the narrow passageway leading underground, and the further we get down the stairs, the more the atmosphere around us turns into a sinister silence, where nothing else makes any noise but the soles of our boots creaking on the tiled surface. And I suspect that none of us becomes tense because of poor vision, because each of our clever little eyes quickly adapts to it in its own way. Rather, it's the steps leading to infinity that plant the first sparks of stress in my head, because after our welcome dotted with corpses, I don't expect anything good now either. And to an outside observer, it may be comical how two armed people stealthily sneak down a fucking staircase, but this uneventfulness cannot deceive the menacing foreboding that grips my stomach.

But as endless as it seemed, the steps suddenly run out, leading us to a short corridor, at the end of which another lonely door stands in our way. And as we stalk closer, it becomes clear that we are not the first to venture down here, because the control panel resting next to the entrance is destroyed beyond recognition, testifying that someone got the urge to sniff around down here before us. And this rightfully raises the unpleasant question of who and how could have found out that it's worth researching here. If the authorities of the colony didn't know what the doc was busying himself with, then it could be only an insider who became stupidly chatty, because the attack and the burglars' path seems too purposeful and organized for it to be just random looting. Someone let the cat out of the bag at the wrong time and in the wrong place, and the juicy info reached certain ears, whose owner wasn't afraid to get their hands dirty in order to get something valuable.

"They got ahead of us here as well." I state quietly, highlighting what has now become painfully obvious to both of us. And I can only hope that they left a few small crumbs that could be of use to us, because otherwise we would have traveled here for nothing, and that would mean turning back to fucking square one. And something tells me that we can't afford to sit around waiting for Laswell to find another deep drawer from which she can conjure up another clue of dubious origin. We need the info now. And quickly.

"Let's see if they left anythin' behind." Riley suggests, and with a confident movement, opens the door leading to the lab, which squeals under the man's palm as it glides across the ground, probably fallen apart from the violent entrance of the previous enthusiastic wanderer, getting stuck in the flagstone protruding from the floor. And as the entry to the lab opens in front of us, we are welcomed by the same unflinching, nerve-wrackingly peaceful stillness that has accompanied us until now, and which has caused us nothing but unpleasant moments. And now I have ingrained it in my consciousness that this deceptively monotonous nothingness is synonymous with trouble and deeply buried, sneaky little mysteries.

The Hunter crosses the doorway of the lab first, and I follow him into the small room, which could have functioned as a kind of vestibule, based on the cabinets lined up against the wall and the control panel that rests unharmed in one of the narrow corners. From the monitors shrouded in lifeless darkness above the many buttons, only our dim figure and the Hunter's gaze burning in crimson are reflected, as if we were the ghosts that returned to haunt among the remains of murder and destruction. However, my attention is soon caught by the faint, greenish light flickering from one of the machines on the table, which is the only proof that whatever is being operated down here is still very much working, and is just waiting to be turned on by someone. And it seems that Riley also noticed this small detail, because after scanning through the area, he turns around and heads towards the multitude of gadgets.

"It still works." Riley observes, and judging by his tone, he also finds it a little interesting that the intruders were willing to harm everything else, but they left this little corner so untouched and intact, as if it had performed some very insignificant task. Or on the contrary. They didn't touch it because those machines are responsible for something very damn important. And as the Hunter settles next to the control panel, he slips his gun onto its sling and starts to work with rutin movements, presumably to breathe life into the devices.

I let the man play with his newly found toys, and I divert my scrutinizing gaze to see if I can still find something that might be of interest to us. I head towards the new door opening from the small room, and at this point, I seriously start cursing the doc, who turned this wretched building into such a complicated maze. It's as if he wanted to hide more and more excitement for those interested behind each entrance, although I suspect that there is a much more practical reason behind why he wanted to make his humble abode so bombproof. And interest immediately flares up in my brain, which leads my pretty little body to the doorstep of the battered entrance, next to which a broken fingerprint reader panel lets me know that this thick steel plate is meant to hide something very important from the outside world. This fills me with demanding sparks of curiosity, which makes me sneak closer with soft steps like a cat spying on a small mouse, and then, straining against the large door, I open a gap for myself to venture into the hidden recesses of the foreign place. As soon as I cross the threshold, I arrive at a long corridor, on the sides of which glass walls reach up high, located at an unusually regular distance from each other, and they are easily recognized by my clever little eyes, as the flickering lights of the security cameras resting on the ceiling are refracted on their surface. And this is such a strange detail that my body moves almost by itself to creep closer to the glass closest to me, and the fact that all the security cameras stand guard facing the walls of the corridor doesn't escape my attention. Because it makes it quite clear that whatever lurks on the other side is important enough to require a dozen artificial eyes to watch over.

And in spite of my sharp eyes, when I get to the very first glass wall, even I can't make out what might be hiding behind it. That's why I slowly stalk closer, and every fiber of me slowly fills with an instinctive tension full of anticipation, which reminds me again of the horror movies that I secretly watched in the privacy of my room under the cover of the night. And although I wanted to seem like a tough girl, when I was waiting for the danger hiding in the terrible silence to appear on the screen, all my nerves were on edge in exact the same way as they are now. As if my body wanted to prepare me for something terrible to occur, and the restless tension gripping my stomach infuses me with stress well in advance, so that when the worst happens, I can take flight immediately. I hear the steady rhythm of my pulse pounding in my ears as I slowly stop just a step away from the wall. However, the unsettling emptiness that lies on the other side doesn't become more visible, and smoothing my palm on the cold, flat surface, I lean closer to narrow my eyes and try to peek in, but I find nothing but a pitch-black, uninhabited room.

And for a fleeting moment, a shapeless spot seems to move in the back of the room, but before I can make out what it is, the shadow takes over the task of greeting me, and a huge body crashes against the glass wall so unexpectedly that I don't have time to comprehend it. The scream that breaks out of me is instinctive, as I stumble back in alarm, and I feel my heart begin to thump in my chest, and I'm afraid it might burst out of my ribs at any moment. The hard metal of my pistol presses painfully into my palm, but my shocked body cannot force my hand to move, so I just stare with wide eyes at the mouth full of needle-sharp teeth slowly appearing in front of me, which is desperately trying to press its jaws against the smooth surface of the glass. And when a hand grabs my shoulder out of nowhere, I only shriek pathetically, helplessly obeying the hasty force that is pulling me behind the sturdy figure that steps in front of me. Although it takes a few fleeting seconds, I understand that Riley is the one who rushed to my rescue and dragged me behind him, and a shaky sigh leaves my lips as my body slowly calms down after the goddamn surprise. And when I have recollected my composure enough to assess the way the man is standing between the I.M.L. on the other side of the glass and me, then the icy fingers closing around my stomach release their grasp, so that my belly can flutter with a completely different kind of sensation, as I take in how protectively he towers above me.

"You okay?" Comes the question from the Hunter, and his glowing red eyes look at me for a moment as he glances back, and I don't think I'm imagining the wrathful gleam in them. But when his shoulders slowly let go of the tension in them, as he lowers his gun, when he assesses that I have no major problems other than a heart attack, then I know that the aggression with which he stormed in here is much more for a mutant imprisoned in a dark hole than me. And the knowledge that I was able to instill worry in the soul of this gruff man suppresses the shame that scratches my insides, because I screamed to the world with the enthusiasm of a young schoolgirl, that I fell into an amateur mistake and allowed myself to be spooked.

"Yeah. I think." I breathe, and my voice sounds miserably weak even to my own ears, and with the power of the combined work of every single nerve fiber, I finally manage to pull myself together and drive away the last grain of terror that has settled in my body. "This asshole surprised me." I clear my throat, pointing my pistol towards the glass wall, where, upon seeing the two luscious snacks, the deformed creature, perhaps resembling a combination of a wolf and a bobcat, starts a desperate struggle with its huge paws, and strikes again and again with dull thuds on the probably unbreakable glass. At least the doc had enough sense not to be cheap on this, even if he didn't have two connecting brain cells to realize that it wasn't the best idea to throw live beasts where dozens of people spend their daily lives.

"What an I.M.L. is doin' here?" The masked man asks as he steps back from the cell to take a closer look at the captive beast. And from the fact that its grotesque body, swollen with muscles, looks more like an experiment made up of several predators than a well-definable late mammal, I can conclude that this monster can be at least a fourth-generation specimen. This swine wasn't created by the virus through a bite, but by a long line of reproduction between mutants, and it could have a very remarkable family tree if such a behemoth could have been put together by its deformed ancestors. Why did Alviar need such a dangerous bastard?

"It might have something to do with what Alviar was working with." I come to the logical conclusion, because I doubt that he wanted to admire the reproduction of mutants with this monster. He could have done that with the help of a dead individual which a Hunter had previously made safe by depriving the wretch of his life. But my colleague needed the test subject alive, and this raises a series of disturbing assumptions in my head, which immediately encourages me to dig deeper. I hurriedly move my eyes along the corridor, and when I see the double door at the end, it becomes quite obvious where our path leads next. "That's where the lab might be, maybe we'll find out what the hell is going on here." I direct the Hunter's attention to my discovery, and without any further prompting, he turns to spy on what my clever little eyes have come across.

"Then we'd better take a look at it." Riley gives his blessing to our next target, glancing down at me expectantly, and I take one last look at the mutant who presses its foaming mouth to the glass trying to overcome the obstacle in front of it in its frenzied hunger, and for a minute I almost feel sorry for the scum. But I quickly get rid of my sympathy, because I know that if this heavy-duty surface were not standing between us, then without further ado, it would taste the delicacy that has slipped here in my pretty person. However, one thing becomes quite obvious as I turn away to walk down the dim corridor with the Hunter following me closely on our journey like a watchful shadow. In the dozens of glass cages spread out next to us, impressively developed I.M.L.s found a lonely little home, who, following the hysteria of their little friend, bravely ventured out of the hidden corners of their cells to see with their own eyes what caused such an uproar. Although outwardly they all display a wide repertoire of deformities, and no two deformed beasts are the same, but every one of them strains against the glass walls in peak condition, with a tangible aggression in their milky white eyes, and it's probably their two weeks of fasting that makes them so wildly enthusiastic. Alviar collected a whole zoo of mutants for himself, which required the help of trained Hunters at best. And if Alejandro and his small team had no idea what was going on, he got help from someone else. However, tracking down and killing these bastards is by no means an easy task, but it's even more complicated to not be caught where the liquidation units of the colony conduct regular patrols. And this is just one more reason for the fact to be reinforced in my little head, which echoes, that this wouldn't have been possible without the cooperation of a much higher authority.

When we reach the entrance of the main lab, Riley steps in front of me with ease and pushes the double door with his foot with perhaps more momentum than necessary, then he enters with his assault rifle pointed forward in search of enemies. And even though I know that, being an experienced professional, he probably instinctively takes on the role, fearlessly throwing himself into the unknown to eliminate risks before they have a chance to cause harm, I can't suppress the tingle that stirs inside me. Because the delusional voice in my head tells me that in addition to the routine, maybe my charming person helped him become a protective tank. And the idea that I'm influencing the man's behavior sounds so tempting in my head that I allow this dangerous train of thought to start in my mind for a stray moment. Because maybe I want to be the reason why he scans the deserted room in front of us with such intense attention, promising a cruel death in his crimson eyes to anyone brave enough to try to strike him. And when he doesn't find a single courageous candidate in the void who would like to meet him, he just turns and walks to the wall next to the door, to after a short search, conjure blinding brightness in the room.

As the neon light flashes, I cover my eyes with my hand because the light burning my retinas blinds me for a moment, and it takes a few seconds before the white spots dancing behind my eyelids disappear, and my vision, accustomed to the darkness until now, adapt to the new conditions. And when I'm finally not in danger of going blind, I have the opportunity to admire the rampage left in the luxurious lab. The intruders didn't even try to remain unnoticed here either, and they were certainly looking for something quite important, because dozens of files are lying crumpled on the floor in front of the wide-open doors of the cabinets, and the large footprints on them reveal that whoever broke in didn't come for the documents. Shards of broken vials and flasks and the unknown liquids leaked out from them litter the spotless white surfaces on the tables that stretch throughout the lab, and drawers hang out of the furniture with hasty violence, as if someone had just enough patience to tear them open and mess up the documents resting in them. A wide array of modern equipment, the likes of which a mere mortal like me didn't have the chance to see up close within the walls of the colonies, rest somewhat unscathed in the middle of the vandalism, the only reminder that some really interesting work could have been going on in the research institution.

"They were clearly lookin' for somethin'." Riley remarks, breaking the sinister silence that has set in, as he strolls into the upheaval of the room with heavy steps, curiously separating a couple of smudged notes with his gloved hand, which are lying on one of the counters and stick to each other, soaked in the unknown spilled chemical. And the Hunter is not wrong indeed, because only those who want to find something can turn every fucking inch upside down, and the vile little voice in my head tells me that they probably succeeded.

"They probably found it." I answer gloomily, and the shards of glass strewn on the floor slide squealing under the soles of my boots, as I wander inside and carry my eyes around the lab searching for something that has at least remained a little more intact to be of use to us. And as my gaze settles on the computer resting in a hidden corner of the room, a small triumphant smile crosses my face, because it seems that fate will finally spare me and throw me a bone that might be enough to find another clue. "But maybe we have something left for us too." I grin, and with nimble steps, I set off towards my discovered prey in the crossfire of the man's intrigued gaze, with such haste as if the unfortunate electronic device were a mirage that could disappear at any moment in the cold glow of the neon lights.

And when I arrive, I start the machine in a hurry, praying to each and every entity for a few seconds and chanting mantras for it to work, and as the starting screen flashes, a relieved sigh breaks out of me, which had been stuck in my lungs until now due to stress. I hear a soft hum as the computer warms up, and as the desktop slowly loads, it occurs to me that after the labyrinth leading up to this place and the complicated security system, a device that is presumably loaded with research data is left stupidly unprotected, without even a password. Instead, I thank karma for finally deigning to smile at me, because, after the excitement of the last couple of hours, I probably would have smashed this shit to pieces if I had to engage in a long hacking attempt. And as soon as the monotonous blue background comes up, and dozens of folders cheerfully lined up next to each other appear on the screen, it becomes quite certain that we haven’t needlessly wasted our time by going on exploration in this godawful building. My hand hastily dives into my pocket, searching for my communicator, and after fishing it out, I quickly pull out the connector, and finding one of the many inputs on the computer case, I plug it into the machine. And when the small window showing the communicator's storage space pops up, I select everything I discover to copy, because it seems that I have found a real gold mine, which I will probably be able to study with a calmer nervous system within the peaceful walls of the unit's base. And while the little device is working, I immerse myself completely in decoding the sonorous Spanish names of the folders, and I only faintly perceive the sound of footsteps and then a door opening, because, in the middle of my little research, something quite interesting catches my attention, as my sharp little eyes settle on the on one of the yellow icons.

Because even with my poor language skills, I can decipher from the "I.H.L." phrase in the title that something quite juicy may be lurking there. Without delay, I click on the folder, and dozens of files appear in the pop-up window, under each of which lies a seemingly unordered series of numbers and letters. And it doesn't take much logic to figure out that random numbers might mark dates, which makes me assume that I might have found the carefully arranged notes of an examination log. But, when I scroll further down and names appear, I'm overcome with confusion, because the uncomfortable question arises in me, that what could human names be doing among the carefully recorded documentation of observations. And because of this, I start opening the files with frenzied speed, and the more windows that appear, the more the puzzlement that settles inside me deepens, because to my disappointment, each and every document contains nothing interesting except the profile pictures and personal data. However, when I see a photo of a man wearing a uniform similar to the guards here, I freeze in shock in the midst of my busy search. For a moment, I fear that my eyes are playing a cruel game with me, but when, leaning closer, I identify with full confidence the eerily familiar tattoo that begins on the line of the guy's neck emerging from his clothes, then the realization hits me with such speed that my brain doesn't get a spark for a second. Because the exact same tattoo is staring back at me, this time from the unknown guard, as what I so cleverly discovered in Laswell's report on the capture of the F.H.L.. And the wild assumption that Alviar hid in the middle of fucking nowhere in order to breed a new kind of humanoid mutant with his own hands, makes my stomach drop nervously and causes terror to enter my every cell with an elemental force. But why?

"Woods! You need to see this!" Riley's shout tears me out from the thousands of ominous explanations swirling in his head, and I wake up from my shock startled, to turn to look for the source of his urgent, deep voice. And when I discover the silhouette of the man through the door opening from the other end of the lab, then, guided by the stress hormones creeping into my limbs, I turn my back on the dubious data and the communicator which is still working diligently, to rush through the chaos of the lab, driven by the momentum of the nervousness moving into my body.

When I step into the unknown room, the cool air that resides there hits me, and I quickly realize that I must have stumbled into that chamber, which was hidden in sinister anonymity on the floor plan. Both walls of the room are covered with a shiny metal surface up to the ceiling, and its continuity is interrupted by a multitude of square doors with handles on them, which gives me the feeling that I have fallen into the middle of a morgue. And when I find Riley standing in front of one of the open doors, I already know that I wasn't wrong, because in front of him on a long metal tray is a naked body lying as lifeless as a grotesque wax figure. And as I take a few cautious steps closer and more and more details are revealed to me, I realize that the unnatural paleness that runs along the unknown human form is much more familiar than I feel comfortable admitting. I stand next to my masked companion in silent astonishment, and with ever-increasing shock, I measure the almost translucent skin, under which, even in the state of rigor mortis, the muscles that used to swell with strength stretch clearly. But it worries me much more when I discover that I'm not looking at the corpse of a deceased Hunter preserved in an amazing condition, because although it's not nearly as deformed as many of its friends, it would be impossible to mistake the sharp teeth in the mouth opened in an eternal roar, or the worldless white eyes, which are characteristic of only one species according to our current knowledge. And my brain gets short-circuited for a minute, as I realize that the humanoid mutant, that we have just come across and the like of which I have never seen before, is a more advanced lifeform than our mutant-riding friend we met in the city, even solely based on its physical characteristics. When I break away from the unsettling sight to look around the room again, I realize that judging by the dozens of doors, this newcomer is probably not the only one hiding within the institution's walls.

And as my gaze connects with the Riley's, I discover the same dark foreboding in the now chocolate-colored eyes, which also sit in my skull like a slimy parasite. Alviar tried to play god, and whatever he used to create these monstrosities, whoever turned the institution into a slaughterhouse, in order to find it, took it and is long gone. Fuck.

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ashs-random-writing · 5 months

Text

Giants in the woods

One-shot

Ao3

Christmas gift for my amazing qpp @a-chilly-pepper

—

When Patton was enveloped with magic, and ended up in a strange land where fairies were to scale to everything else, and he was a giant, he’d not known what to expect

When Virgil found a giant in the woods, he couldn’t help noticing how much it resembled different aspects of nature

—

There was something about the darkness, Patton thought to himself, as he closed his eyes. Something different, that was drawing him in. It was warm, and inviting, and he had never felt like this before.

He woke up a little while later, somewhere new. There were trees around him, but it was as though they had been shrunk. Unlike most trees that looked like that, with that many branches, and that thick, they were only about a foot taller than him. He adjusted his glasses nervously.

He was stood up for some reason when he woke up

There were several bushes around him, though they were also strangely small. The only thing he could see was more trees, more bushes and more plants. If he looked up, he could see a night sky that was entirely unfamiliar to him.

Those… those weren’t the constellations that he saw every night, weren’t the ones that Logan had mapped out and explained to him about a thousand times. He wrapped his arms around himself, in a parody of a hug

He didn’t know where he was, nor did he know why. He knew that he didn’t know what was going on, that it was an unfamiliar situation.

He reminded himself that he needed to think positively- new and unfamiliar, didn’t mean bad. He was supposed to be an optimist, and he supposed that the sky was pretty here.

He sat down on the ground, careful to not crush any plants or animals. He couldn’t hear anything but the chirping and squawks of nighttime birds, but they sounded… smaller.

He tried to ignore everything that was different, wrong, and strange; this… this could very clearly be a fun experience, if he was positive about it!

He was a giant here. It didn’t really take a genius to figure out. He wiped his eyes of the tears he had only just realised he had been crying.

He wondered if there were other people here. Would they be tiny as well, or would they be like him? He wondered how they’d feel about him.

Hopefully, good feelings.

He wondered how Logan was faring with his absence. Logan was there when he… disappeared, wasn’t he?

When the strange feeling had encompassed him, Logan was there as well, right? He nodded to himself.

Yeah, he was there, they were watching one of Logan’s smarty-pants documentaries after Patton had shown him one of the animated movies that Patton liked. It was how they liked to hang out, showing each other their interests and listening and watching intently to the other

Their interests didn’t often coincide, but neither of them minded. Patton hugged his knees.

What if they never got to do that together again? No, he was going to go back home. He had to think positive.

For the next few days, Patton was living in the woods. He had found some plants that he knew were safe to eat, and he ate those, not being able to look an animal in the eye and kill it, even for food.

He hadn’t seen any people. He didn’t want to seek them out, either. He didn’t want to get more lost

He knew his little stretch of trees, and the few little bushes that had surrounded him the past few days.

Some of the plants glowed every so often, and it was mesmerising. He didn’t touch them that often, knowing that it could be dangerous. He looked up at the stars at night

“Would Logan like this new sky?” He’d mumble to himself, and hug his knees.

He needed water. He was sure there was a river nearby, but he didn’t know if the water was clean or if there was enough.

He gave in, and walked as quietly as he could to not disturb the wildlife. He found the river soon enough. It was crystal clear. He breathed deeply and he cupped some water in his hand and he drank.

It helped his lightheadedness and his sore throat.

He carried on drinking and then went back to the small section of the woods where he had been staying.

It was just like camping, he decided. There was nothing wrong with it.

He stayed there and fell asleep.

The next few days were similar. He hadn’t seen any people.

He was lonely. He wondered what Logan had been doing. He closed his eyes and laid down. The ground wasn’t the most comfortable, but it was bearable.

He woke up a few hours later, and yawned, rubbing his eyes. He sat up, and then he noticed he wasn’t alone. There was a (person? Fairy?) in front of him, to scale with everything else around him, making them as small as a doll to him.

He blinked in surprise, hand twitching slightly as though to grab them, but he stopped himself

“H-hello?” He asked, almost nervously.

They had dark purple skin, and hair that covered part of their face, meaning he could only see one obscenely wide eye. Their clothes were strange. All dark colours and purples. They were lanky in the way only a teenager could manage

They looked… scared. Of him.

He brought his hands closer to his own body. He’d probably also be scared if faced with a giant. Their eye was a mint green, and swirling with yellows, looking at his body, his hands, and his face, interchangeably.

“It’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said as softly as he could manage, but their face stayed blank, terrified, shocked

“You… you don’t understand me, do you?” He tried about ten seconds later, voice dejected

They stared up at him. Patton felt awkward, upset and embarrassed.

Of course they wouldn’t understand him, what was he thinking? This place was so far from home that there was a different sky, why would they speak English?

The little person stared at his face as though they were studying it, before carefully backing away, never looking away from him, as though scared he’d pounce

He realised belatedly that the plants were glowing more with proximity to the tiny person.

They slowly dimmed.

He could admit that he was a little bit upset with the departure of the tiny person. He stared at where they had left, and he hugged his knees.

He missed home. He missed Logan.

The tiny person was about 4 inches tall, to him. How tall would Patton be for them? It probably wasn’t fair that he called them the ‘tiny person’; they were to scale, he was the one that was big.

He spent the next few days trying not to think about the things he might be missing at home, good or bad. He hoped that Logan wasn’t too worried about him, he was fine, even if he had no clue how to get home.

He wiped his eyes and rested his chin on his hand. He didn’t know what he was going to do

The tiny person, extremely surprisingly, came back.

They had a long cloak, a dark one, that looked like the sparkling night sky. He was mesmerised by it. So much so that he almost missed that it looked so much more like his night sky than it did theirs.

He stared at it, feeling tears well up in his eyes. He missed his sky.

The tiny person stared up at him, clearly taken aback by his sudden emotion.

“S-sorry… just miss home,” he apologised between tears, though he knew they couldn’t understand him.

They walked a little closer, staring up at him, before removing their cloak and setting it before him like a gift.

He slowly reached out a hand, watching their reaction intently. They were watching him back.

He gently picked up the cloak, and he looked at the patterns on it with wonder.

He could see his favourite constellation. He smiled, tears still falling.

The different constellations weren’t where they should be, but it was his sky, his constellations. That people knew his sky, it gave him hope of getting home.

He hugged it close and looked down at the tiny person.

They were still watching him, face unreadable. He offered their cloak back to them, which they hesitantly accepted, wrapping it back around their shoulders. They stared at him, before clearing their throat

They started speaking, but Patton couldn’t understand a single word they said. Their voice was somewhat high pitched, with a language that sounded like chittering and clicks. He frowned

“I don’t… I don’t know what you’re saying,” he tried, but they clearly also didn’t understand him.

He wondered about this place. Why was he here, where was here, why were the people tiny and colourful, why was he a giant?

The tiny person slowed down their speaking, and took a deep breath, before gesturing to themself and saying something. Probably their name. He repeated it as best he could, and watched their reaction.

They corrected him on pronunciation, and he repeated the corrected version again. They nodded slowly. Patton grinned, clapping his hands very lightly

He gestured to himself and said his own name, the same way they had said theirs.

They repeated it. Of course, considering their vocal cords seemed different to his, they didn’t get it entirely correct, but he didn’t have the energy to correct them.

He just grinned, undeniably happy. He clapped again, careful not to make too much noise. Tiny ears were bound to be more sensitive.

He saw their wary smile, but they still didn’t get close to him. Like a particularly nervous kitten, he likened them to mentally, smile growing at that comparison.

Maybe he could name a cat after them when he got home.

He leant down

“We’re friends, now, Virgil!” He announced quietly, still knowing that they couldn’t understand him, but wanting to share that fact anyway.

They looked at him with wide eyes (or, eye, since he could still only see one) and muttered something, presumably to themself. Patton leant back, and looked at the sky. The sun would be setting soon.

Virgil followed his gaze and frowned.

Patton watched as they left with a feeling of sadness growing. He had just made his first friend in this new place, and now they were leaving

He watched them pull the hood of their cloak up as their small figure left his sight

—

Virgil had seen the biggest shock, and incidentally one of the biggest things, of his life. He had just gone for a morning walk in the extensive woods at the border of his village

And then, he’d stumbled upon the sleeping giant. Its skin was the colour of sand, its hair the colour of the very earth beneath his feet, the colour of the dirt that made up the homes of countless animals and other creatures.

In addition to its sheer size, it was clearly powerful. It looked like Nature Herself had carved it out of Her image. It awoke, after a few minutes of Virgil staring at it.

Virgil could feel his heart racing, as it sat up. If Virgil thought it was large when it was on the ground, it was even larger now it was sat up. He took a wary step backward, and watched its eyes move to stare back at him.

Shit, it had noticed him

He looked at its eyes, the colour of the grass beneath his feet, but swirling with browns and golds also, as though they were stolen from the sunlight hitting the trees.

He felt his chest rising and falling in response to his panicked breathing.

That was some kind of nature deity, or at least something 10x more powerful than Virgil could ever hope to be, and suddenly it spoke

Not in any language that Virgil could understand, but rather something that was deep, rumbling and similar in pitch to a rockslide. He stared in shock, not comprehending the words, or the language.

Its facial expression changed to something almost disappointed, but it spoke again.

Virgil thought for a moment. He’d come back at some point, but he felt the need to leave now. He carefully backed away, not taking his eyes off of them, in case it was taken as some kind of disrespect.

He walked back to his house, and picked up his books. He had always been fascinated by the idea of the supposed alternative world of everything natural, with no magic, but he’d thought it was just that; an idea.

This seemed to prove otherwise. He spent the next few days reading, and contemplating. He hadn’t spoken to his friends in a few days.

He had known that the theorised alternate world was supposed to have different stars, it had been one of his favourite things to think about for a while

He had made a cloak embroidered with the depictions of what these stars might look like. He hadn’t thought about it in a while

He looked at it in thought, before pulling it around his shoulders and walking towards the trees. Perhaps the giant would appreciate it, a kind of… offering.

When he got there this time, it was awake, and noticed his arrival near immediately, staring not so much at him, but at his cloak, eyes going wide before beginning to fall with tears.

He stared. Its tears were clear, unlike fellow fairies, who cried pure black. His confusion took on a kind of horror as he realised that it was salt water.

As a fairy, salt was painful, a kind of torture, unless naturally part of a substance like the ocean, rather than artificially added. That the few stray splashes weren’t painful was only a small blessing

It only seemed to prove that it was even more powerful than originally assumed. The ocean’s own waters fell from its eyes.

It said something in that strange language, its deep voice rattling him, and he took a deep breath.

His cloak was removed from his shoulders, and carefully laid flat in front of the giant, which tilted its head

Virgil took a small step back, and it slowly and carefully picked the cloak up between two large fingers, looking at it with a smile, and still having tears running down its face.

It held the fabric close for several long moments, before looking back down at him, and carefully putting it back down like he had done to gift it to it.

He weighed his options for a single moment, before slowly pulling the cloak back around his shoulders.

“Your generosity to give me the cloak back is greatly appreciated, giant,” he said politely, on the small chance it could understand him.

It stared at him with non-comprehension, before slowly speaking in its own language.

Virgil stared back again, thinking of a way to communicate.

He took a deep breath, and placed a hand on his chest. A name would be as good as any place to start

“Virgil,” he enunciated carefully, watching it slowly nod

“Virkil?” It parroted, getting it wrong. Its vocal cords weren’t meant for this

“No, it’s Virgil,” he corrected gently, ignoring the annoyance that was creeping up in his mind

“Vir-gil,” it parroted happily, clapping, before placing its hand on its own giant chest

He mimicked their own, strange name, trying to make it sound like their language, but he was sure he messed up somehow. It still grinned, and clapped again

Virgil was happy that it seemed like an excitable creature, rather than a vengeful, easy to anger one.

He smiled a bit, but shuffled backwards a tiny amount. It was so… big.

It leant down, its giant face now only a few feet above him

It said something that ended in his name, but Virgil couldn’t figure out the sentence

“Oh, what have I gotten myself into?” He muttered nervously, fidgeting. It leant back, and started looking at the sky.

Virgil also looked up. It was starting to get dark, he’d have to go if he wanted to see the path home.

Of course, there were the glow plants, and they never really stopped glowing, but they were few and far between, except in this little clearing where his nature giant had spawned

He slowly backed away, and once he was far enough, he flicked his hood up and turned around to see where he was going. He could almost feel its watchful eyes on him, though they were partially obscured by the lenses that covered them.

Once he got home, he slumped against the door. That was one of the most stressful interactions he’d had in his life, and that was saying something. He should probably tell his friends about the (giant? deity?) in the woods.

They’d probably want to know about that.

He felt his breathing speed up ever so slightly. He didn’t even know what was happening, let alone how he’d explain it to his friends.

What would Roman say? He would probably not believe him, but he wouldn’t lie about something like this.

There was something powerful in the woods. He could only imagine what could’ve happened if it wasn’t as benevolent as it seemed. He wrung his hands

He magicked a book closer. What did it say about giants? Why was it just always in the woods, why was it so happy when they exchanged names, what was it?

It mentioned nothing. Just stories of people who somehow ended up in the other dimension, where these deities had somehow harnessed the power of lightning for everyday use, without magic.

If Virgil had doubted the power of this giant (he hadn’t, but), he certainly wasn’t now. He read up until the sun rose, at which point he left his house, and traversed towards Roman’s home.

Compared to Roman’s house, Virgil lived in basically a shed. Roman’s house, still wouldn’t be big enough to house ‘Patton’, even with all the walls cleared out.

He knocked on the door, and waited to either be let in, or for Roman to come out.

Roman opened the door, and Virgil quickly grabbed his arm, and pulled him outside

He stammered a little bit, trying to figure out exactly how to explain this

“Listen, you know how I sorta obsessed over the idea of a complete alternative world last month,” he asked, fidgeting and avoiding eye contact

He saw Roman nod, and he carried on

“I- I might have found proof that it exists, and that everything is giant there. Also, maybe there’s a deity in the woods, and you should follow me, because I know it’s hard to believe, but it is there,” he said, rambling in a way that probably wasn’t as convincing as it could’ve been

He looked up and studied Roman’s face

“Okay, well, I only caught about half of that, what do you mean there might be a deity in the woods?” Roman asked, wide eyed

Virgil took a moment to think rationally and explain

“There is something in the woods. It’s giant, it embodies nature as far as I can tell, and it cries saltwater. Like actual, natural saltwater,” he explained, watching Roman’s eyes widen more

They spoke for a few more minutes, with Virgil trying to convince Roman to believe him, and Roman trying to counter his claims

“Okay! I know this sounds insane, but I’ve seen it, and I need you to believe me! Just- just follow me, and I’ll bring you to it,” he pleaded

Roman finally conceded, and Virgil started dragging him towards Patton’s clearing.

He explained the small things he had learnt about the giant, that it didn’t know any language he had ever heard of, that it seemed intensely linked with nature, that it seemed like it was kind, easily excitable.

Roman trailed slightly behind him, evidently still not believing him too much

“And… how big did you say this thing was?”

“Well, let’s say that you’d probably be the size of a finger to it,” Virgil replied, noting that they were getting closer

He stopped

“Just saying, it might be asleep for a little while at this time of day,” he admitted

It was, the last time he’d shown up at this time. They got to the clearing soon enough, and he felt Roman grab his hand.

Patton was sleeping, large face pressed into the ground.

Roman stammered next to Virgil, staring at the giant

Suddenly a sound akin to a whimper left the giant’s mouth, and soon, Virgil had been grabbed by Patton, who was still sleeping.

Virgil didn’t enjoy being grabbed, or being held by a hand that was larger than him, but he couldn’t get out. Roman was staring wordlessly at him.

Virgil could feel the heartbeat of the giant, for the next five minutes, while he was held like some kind of comfort object. He was trying to suppress his panic attack.

There was a shift in movement, and Patton woke up, immediately letting him go, and shuffling backwards slightly, beginning to ramble in their strange language

—

Patton had been upset when his new friend, Virgil, had left. But then he’d fallen asleep, so it didn’t matter really.

His dream was upsetting. He had fallen asleep thinking about friends, and therefore thinking about Logan. He had seen Logan in his dream, and Logan had been glad he was gone, glad to get rid of him.

Patton knew logically that Logan was his friend, and that he probably wouldn’t be glad of his disappearance, but that was also a distressing thought. He didn’t want to make Logan upset, either.

It was a very upsetting situation. When he’d woken up, he’d noticed that he was holding something.

He looked down, finding that he was holding Virgil close to his chest, like he did with his stuffed animals when he’d had a nightmare at home. He’d hastily let go of them and started apologising profusely, finding them staring at him with those wide eyes.

He noticed as well that they had brought a friend with them this time. Oh, what a bad first impression he’d made…

His apology faded out as he stared at the new arrival.

They had curlier hair than Virgil, and a different colour scheme. Darker green eyes, of which he could see both, and a pinkish-red skin, and blood red hair. Their clothes were fancier than Virgil’s, and they were red and gold.

He looked between them and rested his chin on his knees, feeling very guilty.

They looked at each other, speaking in hushed voices as though they were scared he’d suddenly be able to understand them. Soon, Virgil’s friend stepped forward, and introduced themself the way Virgil had

He repeated the name, nodding to himself, and then he introduced himself as well, watching them repeat it too, having similar trouble as Virgil with pronunciation. He smiled.

For the next few months, he stayed in those woods, visited every other day by Virgil, or Roman, or both. They were teaching him their language, but it was slow going.

Patton wasn’t very good at this kind of thing. They seemed to be somewhat nervous to be around him. At first he had chalked it up to his height compared to theirs, but he’d started to notice that it was something else.

He couldn’t puzzle out what.

It was on one of these visitations that he heard a noise. He strained his ears to hear it again. It almost sounded like…

“Patton!”

Patton’s eyes widened. He knew that voice

He shot up, into a standing position, something he never did when he was with his little friends. They got nervous easily

He called back

“Logan?”

Logan was here, how was Logan here? He started running towards the voice, and barrelled into Logan’s arms

“I- I missed you,” he said quietly.

Logan returned the hug, just as tight as Patton had started it, and Patton felt his eyes burning with tears

“Let’s go home,” Logan whispered, voice on the edge of cracking.

And, they found their way back home, something Patton had been worried about for a long few months.

—

@a-chilly-pepper @da3dm

#sanders sides gt #sanders sides fic #sanders sides story #sanders sides g/t #giant/tiny #g/t #giant tiny #sanders sides au #sanders sides #sanders side fic

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sixminutestoriesblog · 6 months

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peony

Well, November is upon us and the year is drawing to a close. Or another beginning depending on how you look at it. In the Northern Hemisphere the leaves are busy changing colors, the birds are halfway to their winter homes, the last butterfly cocoon is tucked in and hidden for the coming cold and November children are busy trying to fend off Christmas decorations long enough to celebrate their birthdays.

Let's talk about flowers to help with that.

November has two official flowers. The chrysanthemum and the peony. Happenstance I re-imagined a peony ghost story for Halloween so we're going to talk about that flower for this post.

The peony can either be a tree blossom or a more tradition herbaceous flower. Native to Asia, Europe and North America, most of the time when we think of peony flowers, we're thinking of the ones that were cultivated and rose to fame in China. From 618 to 907, the Tang dynasty was in power in China and while the previous Sui dynasty had seen a growing fascination with the peony, it was the Tang dynasty that solidified it as a symbol of China, filling the imperial gardens with them. The Song dynasty that followed saw the city of Luoyang becoming both the capitol of the dynasty and of peony cultivation, a distinction that the city still, peony at least, holds to this day. The Quing dynasty saw the city of He Ze, or Cáozhōu, becoming a second center for peony flowers. Cáozhōu is also still a center for peony exhibitions and state-funded research. The peony was the official flower of China until 1929. To this day it is still known as 'the King of the Flowers'.

The peony's fame didn't stay in China however. Japan saw the introduction of the flower sometime before the tenth century and fell in love with it as well, working the peony into their stories and folklore. In the nineteenth century, Europe went wild for the flower, especially in France and the United Kingdom where cultivators began experimenting with various strains, and the Netherlands became the largest exporter, a distinction they hold to this day with over 50 million stems sold each year. In a fun twist, Alaska is starting to show up as an exporter as well, with its long sunny days during the summer turning out to be prime for the flowers' growth.

The peony isn't just a pretty face either. Before it was celebrated for its beauty it was known as a medicinal plant. In China and Japan, the peony root was used to treat convulsions. To this day, people still use its petals in teas and salads. In England, children wore necklaces made of the root to help with teething and prevent seizures. The peony even, very early on, spread as far as regions of the Mediterranean were we got the standard english version of its name from Greek myths. In one, Apollo, to no one's surprise, is pursuing a nymph named Paeonia, who grew embarrassed when she realized Aphrodite was being a voyeur about it and, for that sin, Aphrodite turned her into a flower. In the other myth, there's a physician named Paeon, who used the root of the peony flower to cure Pluto. Paeon's mentor, the god of medicine Aesculapius, grew jealous of this feat and attempted to kill his student. Again a god fell back on the flower solution and Pluto (or Zeus in some versions) turned Paeon into a peony flower so everyone would praise him for being beautiful. Because - priorities.

As for superstitions about the peony - its considered dangerous to pick its seeds while a woodpecker is about. If it sees you, it will peck out your eyes! A peony bush full of flowers is good luck but once they start to wilt and fall off you should prepare for bad luck (given its natural for flowers to do this, gardeners apparently need to get picking). It's also bad luck to give or receive an odd number of peony flowers in a bouquet or to have an odd number bloom on your bush. Fairies are rumored to hide in a peony flower's petals. Thanks to Utagawa Kuniyoshi, a Japanese master ukiyo-e artist from the 1800s, who drew warriors with peony tattoos, the flower can symbolize, especially in tattoos, a masculine devil-may-care and 'damn the consequences' attitude. The red peony in Serbia is said to spring from the blood of the Serbian warriors who died in the Battle of Kosovo in 1389. It is the state flower of Indiana in the United States.

In the language of flowers, the peony can represent shame or bashfulness. The flower also symbolizes romance, wealth, honor, bravery, compassion and a happy relationship or happy marriage. It is also the flower given on the twelfth wedding anniversary.

#peony #birth flower #november #cottagecore #folklore #superstition #herbalism #birth month flower #encouragement #birth month #november flower #china #greek mythology #alaska #indiana

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starlitangels · 1 year

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(Still) Not a Tank

A little race/role swap AU for Sam and Darlin’. There’s a lot more to explore in this AU. No promises for a Part 2 but it might be fun... 3.4k words

—

“See ya tomorrow, Audrey Jane!” Sam called as he shoved open the door to the healer’s clinic, keys already in his hand.

“See ya, Sam!” Audrey Jane called back.

Whistling, Sam unlocked his truck and climbed up into it. He turned over the engine and shut the radio off. It had been a long day and Dahlia’s Top 40 was the last thing he wanted to get jammed into his brain. Music was nice in the morning to help him wake up, but after the long day, he didn’t want anymore.

Despite the day being long, it had also been slow and boring. Not a lot of healing to do, but that was partially because his class had taken a lot of burden off the clinic staff in order to get their practical, hands-on experience.

The nice thing about clinic life was the hours. Three twelve-and-a-half-hour shifts per week with four days off, and he skipped rush hour. Which meant it took him twenty minutes to drive home instead of an hour. Twenty minutes during which he decompressed from the stress of the day.

After parking in his garage, Sam pulled out a container from the meal prep he’d done yesterday, reheated it, and ate quickly. He was hungry—having not eaten since about two and it was half-past nine.

Once he ate, he moved to go upstairs to shower, but froze. His house’s property bordered the woods. Wildlife sounds weren’t uncommon.

The snarling he heard was not wildlife. It didn’t sound like shifters getting in a tussle either.

Completely unable to ignore the concern that sprang up in his chest, he shoved into his boots and ran out the backdoor.

Maybe for some people, one person running headlong into the woods would seem dangerous and reckless. But Sam was a Freelancer—and a strong one, as far as Freelancers went. He wasn’t scared of wildlife—and he sure as hell wasn’t scared of other empowereds.

He followed the sounds of violence deeper into the trees, noticing scuffs in the hard-packed earth and broken bushes and branches all along the way. Whatever was tangling, they were both big and both really strong. There were no whines of pain like an animal or a shifter would make, and Sam could sense the subtlest echoes of magic. He had one guess.

Vampires.

There came several cries of pain from up ahead, and then the telltale Zip of vampires taking off at top speed. A moment after the Zips faded, Sam heard a thud.

He kept going. Heavy breathing met his ears the closer he got. He swung around a tree trunk—

And there was a person, lying in the dirt. Technically lying on their side, but tilted dangerously steep like they were going to fall on their face. Their aura was subdued when his magic reached out to sense it. But he’d recognize a vampire’s aura anyway.

He rushed over. They were covered in blood. A decent chunk of it their own. If the gashes in their skin were anything to go by.

He knew vampires regenerated quickly. Healing magic could kickstart the process, but usually they didn’t need it. But as he knelt next to the half-conscious vampire, he didn’t see any sign of their wounds closing up. “Oh, God,” he whispered. His hands hovered over them, unsure of where to start. “Hey, can you hear me?”

No response.

Sam took a deep breath and sighed. “Can’t heal ‘em out here,” he muttered. He shook his head and rolled them onto their back.

Suddenly, silver eyes snapped open. Fangs protruded from their mouth as they snarled and tried to scramble back—but got cut off with a yelp as their hands flew to one of the injuries on their side. “Get away from me!” they spat.

“Whoa there, darlin’,” Sam said. “I’m a healer. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

They tried again to move, but their body wouldn’t let them do much more than jerk without a recoil of pain. Sam put his hands up to show he meant no harm.

“Look, I’m not the one who just got in a fight with three vamps—”

“Four,” they snapped. “And, for the record, I won.”

Sam made a show of taking stock of their injuries. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say,” he remarked sarcastically. They growled at him. “I can start fixin’ you up. Ya just gotta work with me. Can I pick you up?”

“I would rather—” The vampire tried to stand, but convulsed. “Yeah, yeah okay. Fine.”

Sam scooped them up as gently as he could and started to pick his way back the way he’d come. The vampire was holding their side. Sam suspected they probably broke at least one rib. “You from one of the clans ‘round here?” he asked, trying to make conversation.

They scoffed. “Only one in this city,” they choked out.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean y’ain’t from the surroundin’ region.”

“Nah. Moved to Dahlia long before I turned. Stayed after I turned.”

“So you’re Solaire Clan?”

“Mmhmm.”

Sam smacked his lips. “Is that sour grapes I taste?”

“Mind your business,” they spat, fangs snapping out and digging into their lower lip.

“Just tryna keep ya talkin’, darlin’. Keeps your mind off the pain. And you don’t seem the type to respond to the usual bedside manner tricks,” he remarked casually.

“I could kick your ass into next year, you know.”

“Oh without a doubt,” he agreed. “But in order to do that, you’ll have to be able to stand. Which you currently can’t. So I’m gonna take care of that for ya, okay?”

They growled again. But with a huff, they didn’t bother to argue. Despite the fact that they were clearly turned in their mid-twenties, they had an impetuous teenager attitude brewing around them.

“I’m Sam,” he said.

“Okay.”

He rolled his eyes. “What’s your name, darlin’?”

They didn’t reply. Just tensed their arm holding their side. Sam “Hmm”ed and ducked under a busted branch.

“If you don’t tell me your name, I’m just gonna keep callin’ ya ‘darlin’’,” he said.

They grunted.

He shrugged. “Alright.”

The rest of the walk back to his house was short, but spent in silence. He used a bit of Psychokinesis to open the back door and took them upstairs, putting the vampire in the shower/tub combo of the guest bathroom. They groaned in pain. Sam made a sympathetic face, waiting for them to find a comfortable position.

Once they settled, he scanned them with his eyes again. “Okay. I'm gonna clean the wounds first. It’s gonna sting.”

“I’m familiar.”

“Were you empowered before you turned?”

“Yup. Shifter.”

Sam swore quietly under his breath. “Hard to make the change?”

“Not really. Fighting as a wolf, fighting as a vamp—one less step in between. Still use my teeth and claws.” They flexed their hands to show off sharp nails. Not quite claws, but he understood the sentiment. “Just get to stay on two feet and maintain use of my thumbs.”

“I meant the lifestyle change. Pack to clan. From what I’ve heard packs are much tighter-knit than clans.”

“They are. But I was always more solitary by nature anyway.”

Sam cleaned out all their wounds in a burst of magic while they spoke. They wrenched out a swear before going limp in the bathtub.

“Coulda warned me,” they growled.

“Hurts less when it’s a surprise.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Know that from experience, do you?” Sam sniped.

“Yes, actually,” the vampire shot back. Sam stared. “You’ll see.”

Not knowing what they meant, he shook his head and went back to what he knew. Healing. “Mind if I move your clothes around to see your wounds?”

With some fidgeting and grunting, the vampire fully stripped their shirt off. “Don’t care,” they said.

Sam certainly did. He’d seen patients without any clothes on before. That wasn’t what startled him.

No. He was startled by this vampire’s body. Covered in scars that even a vampire’s healing factor or the act of turning them couldn’t fix. Not to mention the muscles packed tight under their skin. He made himself ignore his curiosity about the tattoo peeking around the arm farthest away from him and get to work.

“Can I touch? Healin’ works better if I—”

“I know. Go for it.”

Sam gently probed at their side. They hissed. “Yeah, that’s broken,” he murmured to himself. “Just… take a slow breath in. Not too deep. Just slow.” He inhaled with them. “And out.” As they exhaled, he healed the broken bone. They twitched, but otherwise didn’t react. “Took that well.”

“I’ve been healed a lot,” they grumbled. “Usually by my best friend in the pack back when I was a shifter.”

“One of the ones around here, I’m guessin’?”

Jaw tight, the vampire nodded. “Shaw.”

Sam blinked, startled. “As in Gabe and David?”

“Yup.” They sucked a deep breath in through clenched teeth, and slowly exhaled.

Then gave him their name.

Sam blinked. “I… know that name.”

“Duh. It was all over empowered news about fifteen years ago,” they ground out. Sam guided them through another inhale and exhale as he healed the worst gash he could see—the one on their other side just over their hip. “That’s why I don’t use it much anymore. Can’t get a lick of privacy when the Shaw Pack’s beta—” They snarled the word out. “—runs afoul of a damn leech and gets turned because of it. Even fifteen years later.”

“What happened?”

“Don’t you read the news?”

“No.” Sam healed what must have been a broken finger. They bit out another sharp curse.

“Damn bastard named Quinn. Nomadic. He doesn’t have a clan. He and I got in a fight when he strayed into Gabe’s territory. I just about had him beat when he caught me off guard and pulled a damn trance on me. Crooned about how he never tranced if he could help it—that it wasn’t as fun—but that he knew he couldn’t beat me. Decided to teach me a lesson.” Their fangs slid down into place again. Sam guided them through one more breath to heal another nasty injury. “Bit into his own wrist and made me drink it, then drained me. I passed out.

“When I woke up, William’s first blood, Alexis, had torn Quinn to shreds. I was barely conscious. She carried me back to Will. Dropped me rather unceremoniously on his desk. Said something she’s never explained about rectifying a mistake of hers, told William I was his problem now, and then left the office.

“I spent the next year being shepherded through my bloodlust by William and Vincent with no maker. Which suits me just fine. After I was out of it, William offered me a place in the clan. I wanted to leave but I couldn’t get back the life I’d lost. Gabe had replaced me with Adrian and was right to do so. Striking out on my own sounded great but… I owed a great debt to Will and Vincent for taking care of me. By the time I estimated I’d repaid them both, I’d grown too damn attached to them and just… kept… not leaving. So I stayed.”

The entire time they spoke, Sam used their distraction to heal them without them dwelling on their pain. Sounded like they needed to get it off their chest anyway. Fifteen years was a long time to hold onto that story, and he imagined they’d never told anyone else.

“Alright. If you don’t use your name anymore, what name do you use? What do I call you?” he asked as he finished up the last of the worst injuries. Their healing factor seemed to have finally gotten with the program and stitched up the little stuff.

“Gabe used to say I was built like a tank. Caught on with the pack. They called me Tank when they were being funny. That’s still what I use when I don’t want to draw attention to myself.”

Sam raised a brow. “Think I’ll just stick to ‘darlin’’,” he remarked.

They scoffed. “Whatever.”

“It’s been a while since you fed, isn’t it?”

“What?” Their tone turned even sharper than it had been. Defending a weakness, he thought.

“You weren’t healin’ naturally as fast as most vamps your age could. Only reason for that I know of is when a vamp hasn’t fed in a while.”

“Mind your business.”

“I’m a healer, darlin’. The health of my patient is my business.”

A growl rumbled low in their chest. They assessed their body with a sharp gaze. “Looks like I’m all healed up now, though. Not your patient anymore. So… Thank you, Sam. I'll get out of your hair.”

They moved to get up, but Sam put a hand on their shoulder. “Now hold on, darlin’. Healin’ magic that deep will knock you right out. If you pass out on the run back to your clan’s den, you could plow face-first into a tree.”

“I know how to power through the fatigue.”

“You shouldn’t have to. Got a clanmate’s number I can call to have someone come pick you up?” he asked. They opened their mouth—presumably to protest again—so he cut them off. “Because it’s that or you’re stayin’ the night in my spare room.”

They dodged out from under his hand on their shoulder. “No thanks,” they said.

“Alright. Who should I call?”

“Ghostbusters,” they retorted sarcastically. Then sighed. “William’s probably the easiest to reach. He’s always in his office all night. I don’t know the number off the top of my head and my phone’s at home but if you look up Solaire Property Management on Google Maps, you’ll find the building number. You can get to William that way. Or one of the clan.” They smirked sarcastically. “If you’re tech-savvy enough for that.”

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled his phone out. “Surprisin’ as it might seem, you and I are probably not that different in age.”

“Probably not,” they agreed, stretching. They narrowed those silver eyes. “Let me guess… mid… late seventies?”

“Late.”

They nodded. “Eighty-one,” they said. “You’ve got five years on me, max.”

He chuckled. “Yup.” He’d found the Solaire Property Management building on Google Maps and tapped the phone number, selecting the Call option and holding it up to his ear.

It rang three times before, “Solaire Property Management, this is Astoria. How may I help you?” The woman had a faded European accent.

“Hi there. My name is Sam Collins. I’m a healer and I found one of your clanmates pretty beaten-up out in the woods behind my property after pickin’ a fight with four other vamps. I patched them up but they’re really not in any shape to be runnin’ home. Healin’ magic tends to make people drowsy. I was hopin’ someone in your clan could come pick them up.”

There was a long pause. “What’s the address?”

Sam relayed his address.

“Tell Tank that Vincent will be there soon,” Astoria said.

“How did you—”

Astoria cut off a laugh before it fully made it out of her throat. “Who else would it be? The only other member of the clan reckless enough to pick an unwinnable fight like that got his head torn off last year.” She cleared her throat. “Vincent is on his way.”

“Thank you kindly, ma’am,” Sam said.

“Thank you for healing them.”

“Just doin’ my job.” Sam hung up.

Tank snorted humorlessly. “Of course she knew it was me,” they groaned, leaning their head against the back of the bathtub. “She’s right. Adam was the only other member of the clan stupid enough to do what I did—except he was worse and got what was definitely coming to him.”

“And you?”

“I will one day, probably. But, this time at least, I was defending my clan’s territory from raiders. Smaller clan in the region who keeps trying to snipe our territory out from under us. Third time this year I've found rogues in my woods.”

Sam hummed in thought. “Listen, darlin’, I know you’re a vampire and your healin’ is good. But you should come into the clinic near the academy campus later this week. Give it three days to see how you’re healin’ up. I’ll be workin’ that day. I’ll stay till the sun’s down so I can check up on you, okay?”

Tank opened their mouth, but no sound came out. “You’re not giving me a choice, are you?”

“‘Course I am. It’s your life. It’s your health. But, as a healer, I have to do my due diligence. And I want to make sure you’re okay.”

They blinked slowly at him. “Okay,” they said. “I’ll see you in three days.”

“See you in three days.”

Sam helped them gingerly pick their way out of the bathtub. Blood clung to the ceramic. He would clean it later. Carefully, he monitored their progress down the stairs and led them to the front door and out onto the porch.

They waited all of ten minutes before bright headlights swung around the corner and a sleek, cherry-red Mustang pulled up in front of the house.

Sam whistled. “Nice car,” he said.

“Vincent loves them,” Tank grumbled.

A man who appeared only a few years younger than Tank climbed out of the car, dressed in a suit with no jacket on. He was tall and pale, with curly black hair almost blue in the moonlight. He braced his elbows on the roof of the car and perched his chin on his hands. An impish smile was already on his face. “What’d you do this time, slugger?” he asked playfully.

Tank muttered some choice words under their breath. The young man laughed.

“You wish,” he retorted.

“Sam, this is Vincent Solaire,” Tank said. “Vincent, this is Sam.”

With a Zip, Vincent was standing on the porch, a hand out. “Hey,” he greeted. “I assume you’re the one to thank for the fact that this pain in the ass is on their feet?”

Tank hissed at him. Vincent hissed back, but he was smiling.

Sam shook Vincent’s hand. “If that’s how you want to put it,” he said.

“Pleasure to meet you. Vincent Solaire.”

Tank groaned and scoffed with a roll of their eyes. “Stop flirting, Vin,” they spat, grabbing Vincent’s wrist and starting to pull him off the porch.

“I just said hello!” Vincent protested, hopping along, off-balance, behind them.

“For you that’s flirting,” they retorted, shoving him at the driver’s side of the car. Vincent rolled his own eyes and climbed back in. Tank hesitated before ducking in. They glanced back at Sam. “Thanks again, Sam.”

He gave them a smile. “You’re welcome, darlin’,” he replied.

They smiled back—just a little one—and ducked into the car. The engine revved and the car sped off, back the way it had come.

Inside it, Vincent turned a playful grin on his clanmate. “‘Darlin’’?” he quoted.

Tank shoved him in the shoulder. “Shut up,” they snapped.

—

William looked up from his desk as two of his progeny—only one in blood, the other in bond—stepped into his office. The younger of the two drenched in blood. He pulled his reading glasses off his nose. “What happened to you?” he asked, concern dripping from his tone.

Vincent snickered and took up a post by the door. Just in case they tried to escape to get out of an awkward conversation again.

The younger vampire plopped down in one of the leather armchairs across the desk from William. “Oh. Y’know. Scared four vampires off our turf and got put through the wringer for my troubles. Typical Monday for me,” they said sarcastically.

William sighed and steepled his fingers. “What are we going to do with you?” he asked with a fond smile on his face.

“I think we should keep ‘em,” Vincent joked. He was rewarded with Tank’s middle finger flashed in his direction. William gave them a disappointed glance, and they shoved their hand in the torn pocket of their jeans, their own expression turning from irritated to apologetic.

William pulled a blood bag out of the mini-fridge built into his desk and passed it over. “Feed, my dear,” he said. “You need it.”

They didn’t protest. Just took it from his hand.

“Once that’s empty, Vincent will take you home. I expect you to clean up and get some rest, do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” they said.

“Now. Tell me what happened?”

Taking a deep breath as they opened the blood bag, they launched into the full story.

—

Tag list: @zozo-01 @shellssstuff @thegoldenlittlerose @darlin-collins

#Redacted ASMR #fic #Redacted Sam #Redacted Darlin'#Sam Collins #Darlin'#Sam #Redacted Audio #Starlit Fic

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