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plush-rabbit · 3 years

Text

The Start of a Family

Picture Perfect Series

Warnings: Sickness, Forced Pregnancy, Noncon

Word Count: 2.9K

A/N: I love being a degenerate with him

The sound of your door creaks, footsteps light as they make themselves to your bed. You let out a low whine, turning over onto your back, your hands loosely grasping at the sheets. The bed dips and you mumble your partner’s name. You believe it to be Danny, you're so sure of it, yet the hands that hold your face and they feel off. The skin is smooth, pressing into your cheeks without the press of nails. You feel off. It’s a slight feeling that twists at your stomach and you’re unable to figure out why. You open your eyes, your vision blurry and mind delirious with sleep, the only thing you’re able to make out is white, blurry at the edges and mixed with black and in your state, you think it's Danny coming home from work.

You whimper his name, closing your eyes and reaching your hands to grab at his face. However, instead of stubble that pricks your skin, it’s plastic, almost rubber in it’s feel and your hands edge towards the middle, meeting mesh. You open your eyes, blinking harshly in an effort to erase sleep from your eye but in that moment, a hand covers your mouth. It’s heavy and forceful, covering the lower half of your face, the body now above you, legs straddling you and the full body weight pressed onto you, digging into your hips. Your eyes widen, and beneath the hand, the name of your partner is muffled. You believe it to be a sick joke but when your lamp turns on, the glaring light shooting against your face, your blood turns into ice. You go rigid, your hands trying to pry off the one on your face, so desperate for air and yet, the force stays solid above you.

Terror spikes throughout your body, eyes wide and sickness thick on your tongue that you fear you’ll become sick against him and the thought of what he might do in that case terrifies you. His petrified look of a scream haunts you, mesh black that stares at you and with a body covered in black, he blends into the darkness, his body evaporating but weight still heavy on you. He wastes no time, removing your clothes and his, his body bare above yours and hands finally away from you but instead of hitting him, you lay there, with your hands over your eyes, as his mask brushes along your collarbone. You thought you were safe; you really thought that you were safe.

“Did you miss me?” Ghostface whispers, his breath nothing more than a wisp against your skin. “Because I missed you.” You let out an ugly wheeze in response, your palms wet with tears. “I miss you so much that it hurt.” His hands- covered by gloves- scratch against your skin, they squeeze against a breast, fingers pushing into your supple breast. “I couldn’t take it. I had to see you. I had to feel you under me, writhing and squirming-” his other hand cups at your sex, two digits pushing past your folds and teasing at your entrance- “feeling your cunt milk my cock.” His gloved fingers squirm inside of you, massaging at your walls, encouraging for the tight fit to become smoother. “Did you miss me?”

You take in a loud breath, peeking between the gaps in your fingers, looking to the door that remains open. “Danny,” you gasp, hoping that by saying his name, he’ll appear. The fingers inside of you stop inside of you. “I want Danny.” Tears slide down and wet at the crevices in your ear, and slip to the bed sheet beneath you.

“Danny, huh?” You look at him when he speaks, chills running across your body. “Is that your boyfriend’s name? The one with the camera at all my crime scenes?” Your mouth is stuffed with his gloved hand, the taste of your essence lingers against your tongue. “You know he’s a bit too involved, walking around, staining the soles of his shoes with blood.” His cock is erect, pressed harsh against the inside of your thigh, slipping past your folds and pressed against your entrance. “I wonder what he would do if he saw you getting fucked by the Ghostface?” He pushes himself inside of you, and you let out a wail muted by the hand that sickens you. “You’d think he’d join in?” He rocks inside of you, steady and hard, making sure to slam himself against your hips. “He could fuck your mouth with I fuck your pussy.” He lets out a breathless laugh, his mask closing in on you until you can smell the scent of alcohol on his breath. It’s intoxicating in all the wrong ways- thick and bitter, making your stomach churn and acid creep into your throat. “Fuck, that would be something, huh?” He slams himself back into you, grunting and letting out your name intermixed with his moans.

“Stop,” you cry, hiccupping and choking on your tears. Your hands clutch at your chest, stopping the bouncing motion from his roughness. “Please, just stop. I haven’t told anyone, please. You can go away,” you cry harder, wishing for death. “Just kill me,” you wheeze out, your chest stuttering with your heavy cries.

He pauses, stilling his movements for a moment, his head tilting. “Kill you?” He breathes out. He shakes his head. “No, no,” he repeats. “I could never kill you.” He resumes his thrusting, pushing himself deep inside of you. “I love you too much to ever do anything like that to you. Did you know that?” Despite his mask, you know that he’s staring into your eyes, watching for any reaction that you can give to him. “I love you so much. And when you get pregnant-” his hand curves over your belly- “you’ll never be able to escape me.” Your eyes go wide, and you suck in a deep breath. “You’ll look so cute with a round belly.” The mesh of his mask presses against your lips. His lips wet at the mask and his spit is on your lips. “You’ll be plump and begging for my cock, knowing that it was me who did that to your body.”

He’s ruthless. A true monster disguised as a human as he ravages your body. With every push inside of you, is a groan of despair from you, your cunt leaking with your arousal, slipping to the inside of your thighs and down his length. You lay beneath him, crying and holding onto him, feeling a pressure against your stomach when he releases inside of you. It’s thick and warm, burning your inside and it's pushed inside of you. You cry his name, “Ghostface,” begging for mercy as he continues his rutting, burying his cock inside of you until he’s drained and you’re full of seed.

Danny finds you in the morning, curled up with dried tear stains. Your clothes stick to you uncomfortably, your underwear feeling as if it were stuck to you, drenched with his semen that had spilled out. Danny walks to you, crouching to a squat as he brushes your hair away from your face.

“Nightmares again?” He asks in a low whisper, and you nod, your lips trembling as you go to hug him, sobbing against his shoulder and clinging to him like a child. “It’s okay,” he says gently, running his hand down your back, “it’s okay. I’m here now. It was just a bad dream.” He crawls into bed with you, pulling you close to him, his chin resting on the top of your head while you curl up on his lap, resting your head on his chest. “They’re just nightmares, they aren’t real.”

“It felt real,” you mumble, your head curving around his belly, letting your thumb arc over him. “I wished you were here last night.” A sob interrupts you and you’re soothed once again by Danny. “I wanted you here,” you cry, pressing yourself closer to him.

“I’m sorry,” he says earnestly. “I wish I was here. I know how bad your nightmares can get.” His hand stills for a moment, clenching the back of your shirt into his fist. “But you were the one who didn’t want to move in with me, remember?” You nod slowly. “You can’t just guilt trip me into this. I’m sorry and I wish I were here but-”

“Danny?” You whisper, clenching his shirt loosely. He hums in response. “Can I move in with you? Please?” You can hear his heartbeat quicken, the hand on your back coming loose and returning to the soothing touch. “I don’t want-” you pause and look at him- “I miss you too much.”

“Of course you can.” His hand manages to find a way to hold yours, bringing your knuckles up to his lips and kissing each gently. “I would love nothing more than to have you at home with me.” His lips trace up a finger, kissing the tip of your thumb. “I’ll keep you safe there. Away from this place with all those gross memories- you’ll be safe with me.”

You lay on his bed. It’s not the first time, it’s nothing more than a bed you’ve both shared in the past and yet, now as you sit on it, it’s foregien to you. It’s nothing more than a bed, a bed that you share now because his home is now your home. The comforter has loose threads that you wrap around your finger until it pales and turns dark at the skin that protrudes from it. Your stuff is organized, fixed and moved into a space that he has made for you. You’ve come into his space and he’s made sure to welcome you.

The door clicks and you can hear him, his heavy footsteps and the jingle of his keys. “Honey, I’m home!” He sings, followed by a laugh and he’s searching for you throughout the house. Your heartbeat quickens and the comforter is gripped in your hands. “Want to go out to eat?” His voice sounds far away and you’ve realized you’ve forgotten to make a meal for him. For the both of you. “We can order take-out or something.” His voice is growing closer and you stare out the window expecting to see Ghostface but there’s no one there. “You know, since it’s a special night.” His voice is close, and when you turn, he’s at the doorway, loosening his ties and running a hand through his hair. “You good?”

You nod. “Yeah,” you whisper out. “I’m just- I feel so out of place here, you know?” You give out a shaky laugh as tears threaten to form, a lump in your throat as you release your grip and hold out your arms.

He’s quick to hold you, his face pressed against your neck and arms wrapping tight around you. “You shouldn’t. This is your home now.” He pulls away and kisses your lips, his nose bumping against yours. “You’re allowed to be comfortable here.” He pulls away, his hands holding onto yours. “I didn’t want to ask yesterday because we were both tired and hungry, but do you want to go take a picture? Something to commemorate our living situation?”

You stare up at the man who has kept you safe and you pull him down, kissing his lip and gesturing for him to get on the bed with you. He must understand what you want, why you want him to get on the bed with you, because in the same moment, he unbuttons his shirt and teases at the hem of yours. His hands stop there, his knuckles brushing against your stomach and for a moment, he stops, he pulls away from the kiss and licks his lips. Your only response is to remove the shirt yourself, continuing until you’re naked in front of him.

His lips brush against yours, his breath warm and hands lingering on your bare sides. His eyes stay fixed on yours, his thumb arching on your body, a shiver running down your spine. Your heart is beating erratically, so loud that you think he might hear it. You hesitantly raise your hands to cup his face, licking your lips when you realize that your hands have started to become clammy. You pull away from him, enough to no longer fear that he might see how flushed that you’ve become.

“I- I wanna do something else to commemorate.” You roll your lips, nervously swallowing, your legs twitching and stomach churning. “If you don’t mind.”

He stares at you with blank eyes and a parted mouth for a second until his smile grows, pulling high on the corner of his lips. He nods, leaning towards you, your hands falling onto his chest when he kisses you. It’s a blur of the moment, feeling his fingers edge against your sex, brush so carefully against your clit, and you’re gasping for breath under him, hidden in the crook of his neck with tears in your eyes.

His fingers are coarse, touching your sensitive bud, rolling it under his fingertips and he tries to move you, to signal for you to show him your expressions as he touches you, but you can’t. You stay hidden, digging your nails into his back and shaking your head. With your eyes shut tight, with only darkness in your vision, you can picture someone other than your partner. You picture him. You swear that you can feel his hands on you, but instead of the roughness, it’s gentleness, it’s him being tender, focusing on your pleasure and making you gasp and whine under him. You’ve never taken a proper look at his hands, but they’re thick, spreading your cunt and massaging at your walls, while you buck against him, feeling the tip of his cock against your thigh.

You arch your back into his chest, hissing at the contact and clutching tighter to him, squeezing his fingers in your cunt. A hand slips between and palms at your breast. He’s eager and clumsy, grabbing at your roughly and you hold on tighter to him, whimpering under his touch and his only response to hold you tighter, to pinch at your skin and push himself knuckle deep inside of you, adding a third finger and then a fourth, your sex burning with the spread and you’re calling his name, pulling away with tearstained eyes only to be kissed roughly.

Tears catch on your lashes, your hands digging into him, wanting to draw blood and get him off but at the same time, wanting him to never stop, to continue until he’s the one who has touched your body to the full extent.

He pulls away, the hand on your breast going to wipe a tear away, his head tilting and smiling softly. He looks much younger and handsome with the gentleness on his features. “Condom?” He asks in a low whisper.

While maintaining eye contact, you shake your head. Your hands hold him, and you pull him for a kiss. When his lips are on yours, you leave him, your hand slipping between your bodies and going to grab at his erection. He moans against you, bucking his hips into your hand while his tongue slips into your mouth. It lasts for a moment, the intimacy of holding him, only to disappear when he’s inside of you, pushing past your already stretched hole and pushing himself deep inside of you. He pulls away, face above you while he grunts and holds your hand, calling you everything sugar and nice. He kisses you with a gentleness that you don’t remember ever feeling.

It isn’t long until you’re clenching around him, gasping his name out and arching your back. You plead to him- begging for him to not stop with tears in your eyes, to be a bit rougher and you allow for him to spill inside of you. He’s hot inside of you, spilling his seed deep into your womb and making you warm all over. He doesn’t stop pumping inside of you, the tenderness making you gasp out and hands clench into loose fists. He holds you close, his cock fully inside of you, not allowing a droplet of semen to be wasted and you hold him, crying and thanking him, kissing at his neck and holding him there with you.

You rest your hands in the sink, the small space of the bathroom putrid as the air reeks of acid. Your stomach swirls and your eyes are filled with tears. Your throat burns and the birds sing their morning song outside. You want to believe that you woke up sick; that whatever it is that made you throw up is nothing more than the stomach flu.

But you know better. You know that it isn’t the flu. It’s something worse, something much more than it could ever be. You wish it were the flu. The bathroom drawer scratches open, your hands reaching towards the back where you’ve hidden your box, and when you pull it out, the box rattles in your hand and your heart sinks.

It takes only a few minutes until your timer is beeping, and you’re quick to stop it. Your hands shake as you grab the pregnancy test. You pray and you aren’t sure for what, but when you look at the pregnancy test, two loans, a faint red, stare back at you and you let the plastic clatter against the sink as you sob.

#ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface dbd #dbd ghostface #dead by daylight #tw: noncon #danny johnson #danny johnson x reader #danny johnson imagine #i struggled with this title for so long #im meh on it

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the-silentium · 3 years

Text

Bloodhound

Masterlist - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Fors is an Original planet. I do not give permission to people to use it for their own fics, the planet, the animals, the Nightmares, the lore or anything related to Fors. Thank you.

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader

Words: 5172 words

Warnings: Blood, gore, curse, monsters, ANGST.

A/N: Yessss two chaps in two days!! Thanks to every single one of you who left comments and kuddos on the previous chap. You're all awesome 💜

**Also! Words in bold are words said in French, which means the clones can't understand it. I stopped writing the French in actual French for you guys, it'll be more useful in the future.**

Taglist: @haloangel391 / @lightning-wolffe / @cherrydemon5 / @and-claudia / @clone-rambles / @mandaloriandin / @lackofhonor / @gaymasonjar

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//25 minutes earlier//

"That's not him! Guys!" You yelled in the comlink you fished in your pocket in a haste, almost making yourself trip when you pulled on the fabric of your pants at the same time.

The gap separating you from them was increasing more and more with each step they took. Damn their long legs and commando training, you weren't made to chase this kind of prey!

"I know his voice Y/N! That's him!" Wrecker was too damn sure of himself, his confidence affecting his brothers' judgment as well.

It didn't take long for rule number one to be thrown overboard and surprisingly it wasn't by the one you expected, no offense Techie.

"Stay under the trees!"

This couldn't be happening. They were all running headfirst to their deaths. According to the lore, Venustes didn't affect more than one person at a time. You couldn't know for sure if the lore was reliable or if the other three were following out of concern for the fake 99, but they had to snap out of their own mind trap soon or else they would all be dragged down.

"H-" A clawed hand appeared inches from your face, cutting short your attempt to call out for your sergeant.

Instinctively, you threw your body to the ground to avoid getting grabbed by the head and ultimately being crushed like a berry in its grasp and crawled to continue running. Alas, the Algax wasn't as dumb as you thought, his other hand swiftly reached forward to stab your right thigh with one of its fingers, preventing you from escaping.

Your screams of pain were muffled by the hand pinning your face to the dirt, waiting before your lungs were empty of any air to lace its long sharp digits around your torso. The feeling barely registered through the thick fog of pain coming from your thigh.

Your first instinct was to yell at the top of your lungs for help, maybe your distress would get them out of their haze, saving their lives as well as yours, but you quickly found out that your lungs were empty and unable to expand to receive more oxygen.

The lack of air in your system mixed with the agonizing pain from the retreating talon in your thigh almost knocked you unconscious. You could feel your blood escaping your wound to drip down your legs and nourish the ground under your suspended form.

It leaned closer, a low crackling sound escaped the slits on its temples. With considerable efforts, your good leg moved up to push against its torso to keep its horrifying face away from yours, the up-close view causing more tears to gather in your eyes.

Fear and the lack of oxygen quickly took over your body in the form of violent shivers shooking your whole frame. The building pressure encompassing you once more was excruciating, your bow laid on the ground out of reach while your arms were pinned down along your sides, keeping you from stabbing your way out of the situation.

All you could do was scream in your head out of pain and fear, waiting until your bones gave up under the tightening grasp to pierce your organs and kill you slowly. The boys seemed way too entranced to come to your aid, leaving you to feel as miserable as when you were hunting for the village, without back up and entirely alone. If you were lucky, you'd die alone without another beast feasting on your still alive-but-unable-to-move self. This would be a nice death, as horrible as it sounded.

You hoped the boys would survive though. Even if they apparently totally forgot that you were there. Not that this came to you as a surprise. People who gravitate around you for some time always tend to go away on their own, leaving you behind just like the clones. But you couldn't hate them for it, your heart already knew it was coming and had prepared itself for this right moment.

After all, they had to lie to their chain of command and train a primitive idiot how to fly a ship, they were trapped on this infernal planet once again because you nearly died and they hadn't seen the Shinehorn sneaking its way into their ship, being too busy fussing over your comatose self. Oh and let's not forget that you ended an innocent's life right in front of them without warning. It was only a matter of time before they left.

Plus, if they were so desperate to meet this 99, it surely meant that he was highly special to them whereas you were the newbie, so no you weren't mad. You merely wished you had someone who could make you forget everything around like this 99. It seemed nice to have someone that important.

And finally, if you died maybe you would find a way to come back to haunt them. This could be fun, you could mess with Crosshair's rifle, disturb Tech while he was tweaking with his prototypes, pushing Wrecker around to your liking because he couldn't possibly defend himself against you anymore and most important of all, you could mess with Hunter by constantly untying his goddamn bandana. It would drive them all mad, you knew it.

After some thoughts, you knew they would make it off this planet alive. Together they had a good chance. Hunter's acute senses along with their brains and elite commando training gave them an advantage the natives never had. Hopefully, they would stay in these parts of the jungle until daylight, where they knew how to deal with the monsters living around.

Yeah... Good luck guys.

Eyes closed, you waited for the inevitable snaps of your bones. It resonated between the trees, sickening and disgusting you to the core, but you weren't flooded under any more pain than the one radiating from your thigh. Instead, you felt nauseous for a whole second when you were once again thrown away, landing on the ground harshly.

Your body rolled on the dirt, bouncing a couple of times under the force of impact. For as far as you remembered there wasn't a single time in your life when you've been thrown around as much as tonight. This was getting tiring and it’s been dark for only a bit more than two hours. Lucky you.

Still laying on your back, you breathed erratically to provide the much-needed oxygen to your organs, watching upside down the Algax receiving a second arrow to the head, effectively scaring it away.

A hunter. You were saved. You were fine.

Huffing, your body went limp at the lack of imminent danger and talons menacing your life. Maybe you could rest-

"Shit. She's really alive?" A hunter you recognized as Farlan walked out of the shadows to slowly approach your form like you were a trapped animal.

"So it's true then. It's your fault they're back." Another Hunter spat, literally, missing your face by an inch. Kerth never liked you, obviously.

You would have liked to say that those were the hunters you desperately wanted to come and rescue you, but then it would be a lie. None of them appreciated your presence even slightly so they all meant the same thing. This will be a drag.

"Now, who's back? And why is it always my fault?" You pushed on your forearm to sit straight, grunting at the pain in your right leg.

Shit. The hole left by the talon wasn't big, approximately two inches wide, but it was bleeding profusely. It was sickening to be able to see the ground through your flesh so you opted to keep pressure on the wound with your hands, camouflaging the hole like it wasn't even there. If only the pain could disappear as easily...

"The nightmares. They're back because you're still alive." Kerth pulled a piece of gauze from a pocket on his belt, the sight of the medical supply pulled a relieved sigh out of you.

Wait what?

"So the council wants a word." He said with so much venom that your heart skipped a beat. This wasn't good. At. All.

Before you could react, the gauze found its way in your mouth, quickly followed by an irritating rope that despite your weak thrashing around got attached behind your head.

You were brutally pushed onto your belly, hands pulled behind your back to be attached tightly with skillful fingers. A muffled scream escaped your mouth when a knee pressed onto your wounded thigh, tears joining your blood on the dirt.

"Because of you, I've lost friends tonight. I'll make sure to pay you a visit once the council is done with your stupid ass." He growled in your ear.

Oh, you were so dead. Your bet was on the council, but if by some miracle they weren't the one to put an end to your life, then Kerth was the next bet. Maybe you shouldn't have sabotaged his weapons the day of the hunt competition. Or put some poison ivy in his hunting clothes. Or laugh whole-heartedly when he got shit on by a Furant during his ceremonial speech in front of the whole village. Or… one of the numerous pranks you pulled on him for payback of his daily shitty attitude towards you.

Farlan was the one to pull you up and push you forward, leaving the job to spot the monsters to Kerth. The thought of running or fighting was completely futile. You wouldn't run very far with your untreated leg, there was the possibility that they would shoot you down out of spite too. They seemed very fed up at you for some reason. How could you be the cause of the nightmares reappearing? Also, they were gone? Since when?!

This was getting weirder and weirder.

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//Present - 10:48 pm//

"I got her position. She's close” The corners of Wrecker’s lips lifted slightly. They could track you, everything would be fine from here. You weren’t lost. “and unmoving." The whispered last words rang loud and clear in all the clones' ears.

Wrecker's breath wasn't the only one to abruptly stop.

The smile quickly left his face, as well as a majority of his blood. You couldn’t be dead. This couldn’t be happening.

“Where?” Hunter’s hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly around his blaster,

“700 meters that way.” He pointed deeper into the jungle, where they all came from.

A weight fell on his stomach and he had to force a deep breath in. You hadn’t made it out of the jungle with them. They had outrun you and left you behind on your own.

Without a word Hunter took the lead, Tech following right behind with Crosshair on his heels. Wrecker took a single second to gulp down his guilt and shake his arms lightly to regain feeling in his body and not worsen his wounds. He followed silently behind the group, squinting attentively to discern the shadows with his half working equipment.

“300 meters.”

You were resourceful. You knew your planet like the back of your hand. There was no way you were dead.

“100.”

Please 99. Don’t let her be dead.

Crosshair stumbled on Tech as the brown-haired clone abruptly stopped, looking around like he was searching for something. With a step forward, Tech crouched to grab a small object on the ground to show it to the rest of them.

“Kriff!” Hunter punched a nearby tree, exhausted by this succession of ill-fated events. There in Tech’s hand was your comlink, their only way of locating you on this living prison that was this planet.

Wrecker held onto the last hope he had. There wasn’t any blood, you could still be fine. Maybe you’d dropped your comlink while running away.

“Hunter.” Crosshair’s voice was unsettling. His usual dry snarky self was replaced by a more small and scared tone that the soldier hadn’t heard in a while. “That’s a lot of blood.”

And it was. The puddle was big enough and it looked like you'd struggled quite a bit in it too.

The world was spinning. He knew battalions lost men every time they went out on missions. It was a common occurrence for soldiers to die and the remaining ones had to suck it up ad continue the fight. But Wrecker wasn’t used to this. From the very beginning, they were the four of them, surviving each mission thrown their way to fight another day. He never got attached to anyone out of his Batch but you and losing his first comrade in the field hit him hard.

Sure, the death of 99 left him in crumbles but with you it was different. He was supposed to have your back just like you had his. You saved his life and he didn’t save yours.

As his eyes fell to the ground in shame, he noticed a small object at the tip of his boot.

“Tech.” He called, as he raised back up with your earbud in hand.

“So we can’t contact her, she can’t contact us, she’s unarmed and wounded.” Crosshair resumed the situation, your bloody bow, and quiver in hand. "If she's not dead, she'll be soon."

"There's no way she'd run deeper into the jungle wounded and without her bow. It's suicide." Hunter tore his gaze from the large puddle at his feet to follow sparse dark spots staining the grass to their right. "It could be a new critter that doesn't kill right away or she found someone or something else to protect her."

So there was a possibility that you weren't dead. Wrecker felt relieved that his brother came to that conclusion, his own mind was working in slow motion, too distressed at his feelings to allow him to concentrate and think.

"Whatever it is, we'll find her."

Even if the words weren't meant to reassure him, Wrecker felt more at ease knowing that they had a way to track you and that you were possibly safe with someone or something. All he hoped now was that you were alive long enough for them to find you and that ultimately, you'd forgive him.

Wrecker rushed behind his brothers who followed the trail, jogging at a steady rhythm, slow enough to be able to detect the monsters that might target them but fast enough that they would catch up to you at some point.

It didn't take long for the first Algax to cut their road, the shy creature poking its terrifying head from behind a large trunk as soon as it heard them approach.

Wrecker tensed, already gripping the handle of his blaster with his left hand despite the knowledge that his weapon was useless against them. Having his blaster in hand, even if it wasn't the right one, gave him a sense of security.

The dark blue creature didn't have time to lift its hand to reach for them that an arrow flew right into the trunk next to its head. The beast hissed, its long fingers hitting the arrow in anger before moving out of its hiding spot to engage the group.

"Damn thing." Crosshair growled, at the bow in his hand or at the beast, Wrecker didn't know. All he knew was that he almost cheered when his brother managed to scare the beast away with two arrows piercing its chest.

"Nice work." Tech approved, light sticks in hand instead of his blasters.

"You were right. It is primitive." Crosshair growled, following Hunter who resumed the tracking of your blood on the ground.

"I'm always right." He chirped, eyes scanning the shadows.

"Debatable." His brother scoffed back.

"Wrecker." Hunter called from the front, eyes quickly darting forward when he caught his brother's eyes. "Let your blaster. Take your blade."

"Okay." Against his best instinct, the clone let go of his DC-17, letting it fall on the jungle floor to grab his vibroblade in a firm grip. The blade felt weird in his left hand but it would do. Knives worked on those things, he was still safe.

The surroundings were calm for a while, and the more time they spent no crossing path with any monster, the more the tension built between them. Apprehension kept them on their toes, eating away at their nerves slowly.

The next Algax they encountered stood tall in their way like he was challenging them to jump at it. Maybe they were used to being at the top of the food chain, just like the clones were used to being at the top of their game. Regrettably, the clones were in way over their head on this planet but they would make sure that they weren't the only ones.

Instead of slowing down, Hunter charged at the Algax, stopping only when the sharp metal of his vibroblade was deeply set into the monster's chest.

Wrecker waited for a screech, for the creature to start thrashing around or flee like the one that fell down a tree with you. Seconds passed and the Algax lifted its arms like nothing happened, like there wasn't a long knife jabbed in its thorax and made a move to grab the sergeant who swiftly jumped away, blade still in hand.

"What?!" Hunter exclaimed, facing the creature once again.

An arrow in the head managed to get the desired effect, the tall beast running away in its signature hiss.

"Why didn't it work? Her knife worked on them!" Hunter was getting more and more on edge.

"Maybe it could be because our technology is too advanced or because our equipment is not native." Tech remarked. "It is logical in a sense. This planet created its own rules to protect itself from invaders, so it may have created a sort of protection against anything exterior to its own resources."

"It is possible?" Wrecker found it quite hard to believe. A planet controlling what could kill or not? Blasters could kill anything!

"The planet changes beliefs in the real thing. Yeah I think it's possible." He deadpanned with an eye roll.

Suddenly, the vibroblade in Wrecker's hand didn't provide the same sense of security as before. All their hope resided in Crosshair and Tech's hands. 7 arrows and 3 light sticks. Talk about limited resources. If only he had his backpack containing all his explosives, he could get something done.

Too deep in thought, Wrecker didn't notice the wall of dirt right in front of them until he almost rammed into it. They were back to their landmark.

"We missed each other." Hunter growled in frustration at the sight of the blood splatters leaving the safety of the trees to disappear under the waterfall.

Wrecker understood immediately, his own frustration building in his chest. They entered the jungle and you got out of it. Maker knew Wrecker was used to bad timing but this was a new low. Fate was laughing right in their faces.

Cautiously, they left the dense vegetation to venture into the open area where Wrecker almost became bird food. His eyes were fixed in the open sky, some stars were visible through the small clouds. The bright moon wasn't at its highest yet, Wrecker estimated that there was another hour before the satellite reached its peak.

The provided light allowed him to relax the muscles around his eyes. He hasn't been squinting for long that the beginning of a headache started to form in his skull.

As they neared the wet dirt, three sets of footprints were easily distinguishable in the wet dirt. The spacing told them that none of you were running. If nothing was chasing you, then why weren't you patched up?

"We have to find her quick." Crosshair spat what every brother thought quietly.

If you were with people that didn't patch you up and had plenty of time to do so then they weren't on your side. Even without medical supplies, they should have been able to stop the bleeding one way or the other.

"Stay close." Hunter called, venturing closer to the waterfall where your blood disappeared.

With each step forward, the sound of the waterfall hitting the river below became more and more deafening. The sound was assaulting his ears to a point where he almost ripped his helmet off to cover his ears. He managed to hold on, focussing instead on his leader who clearly had more problems than him.

Hunter had removed his own helmet to pass it on to Tech in hope of covering some of the uproars with his hands. The relief must not have been enough for his arms began to shake, his hands pushing firmly against the sides of his head.

If only he could reach for his brother and take some of his pain, Wrecker would do it in a heartbeat.

"Let's make this quick." Crosshair took the front, his steps taking him behind the waterfall where a tin border of rocks formed a path to the other side.

Tech nodded his head towards Hunter, his hands already full with the sticks and the extra helmet.

"Got him." Wrecker confirmed. His left hand reached for his brother's pauldron right after sheathing his blade.

With practiced movements, Wrecker bent to carefully set his pain down, now wasn't the time to listen to his body.

With slow steps the tank walked on the wet trail of rocks behind the roaring wall of water, his arm tightening slightly around the body on his shoulder. If Hunter reacted Wrecker couldn't hear it.

The rocks were flat enough that he didn't slip once. The problem appeared on the other side, where the blood trail ended abruptly a couple of feet away from the bank.

"Where to now?" Wrecker asked, still supporting his limp brother.

"No fucking idea." Crosshair grumbled, visor moving from right to left where the jungle extended as far as his eyes could see in both directions.

Hunter's feet returned to the ground when soft pats disturbed the tall clone carrying him, his hands were at his sides, fingers clenched into fists as he grounded himself through deep breaths.

"Are you okay?" Wrecker dared to ask, his worry for his family finally escaping him.

Hunter usually took more time to recover from an overwhelming episode like this one and it was apparent that he still needed time, but he opened his eyes nonetheless, ignoring Wrecker's question to grip onto Tech for support and deeply breathe in, brows furrowed in concentration.

His head turned in a different direction as the three remaining clones scrutinized the line of trees for signs of a threat.

"It's faint." Hunter whispered, still deep within himself. "Blood. That way." He pointed at their right before reaching for his helmet in the engineer's hands.

"You're good to walk?" Tech questioned, watching his C.O. warily. His hands lifted slightly in apprehension that Hunter may faint under the pressure he was forcing on his body.

"Yes." It was weak but firm, leaving no place for discussion, not that either of them would have said anything. They knew what you meant to the sergeant so it was better for their sakes to not put themselves between you and him.

Back in position, clone force 99 advanced through the trees, their pace building at each passing second. They were almost running when finally they stopped, their boots almost slipping under them in a sticky substance.

"Karkin' fuck." Hunter cursed, his hands tightening around his vibroblade, eyes glued to the corpse lying at their feet.

"That was you smelled?" Crosshair pushed the eviscerated loth wolf with the tip of his foot.

"Ye-"

Screams resonated in the distance, cutting Hunter off. Wrecker's heartbeat loudly in his ears, almost covering the yells of pain under its incessant percussion against his ribcage.

Every single one of the soldiers breathed out in relief at the lack of a female scream. However, they tensed in apprehension as the screams faded and howls filled the air in their place. A new beast was around and they didn't have any idea of how to react to it. Run? Hide? Would the knife work this time? Or the bow?

"There were two distinct voices. Males." Tech stopped his recon of the surroundings to catch his batch's eyes. "Maybe it's them."

"Worth a shot." Hunter nodded, already moving in the direction of the screams, although this time he kept a slower pace, fully conscious that they were in unknown territory, charging at unknown beasts.

The screams weren't too far, but they obviously came from the opposite direction Hunter initially pointed them to. Hopefully, they would find you there, wounded but alive, and he wouldn't beat himself too much for his mistake.

Despite knowing that they were useless, Wrecker retrieved his vibroblade from its sheath. The need for a weapon in his hand was too great to ignore, every cell of his being felt the danger ahead and wanted to be prepared although he could never really be prepared for anything this planet threw at him.

He cringed every time a twig broke under his boots, the soft sound resonating in his own ears like the grenades he liked to throw on the battlefield, resonating into the silent jungle to scream their position at anything that dared to listen. Maybe it was paranoïa slowly creeping its way into his brain, using the aftereffect of the corrupted hallucinations he suffered to play around with his senses.

Just like right now, the more he concentrated to decipher the shadows with his half working helmet, the more strange the forms became. At first, it was spots from his constant squinting, then he saw small blue lights on the horizon, dancing haphazardly around. After a couple of blinks, the pale lights disappeared as fast as they arrived, leading the bald clone to shrug them off as his eyes playing tricks on him. The constant stress was definitely getting a toll on him, and let’s not talk about the two dives into a strong current. Once this night was over and they get back at the Marauder, he’ll sleep for two weeks straight.

Softs whines could be heard over unnerving growls and occasional barks, quickly catching the group’s attention.

“Blood.” Hunter informed them over comm, his whisper almost blending with the rustles of leaves in front of them.

The group halted in their tracks as Hunter raised his fist, Crosshair already had the bow cranked, ready to shoot at whatever alerted their leader. Carefully peeking over Tech’s shoulder, Wrecker craned his neck to the side to see what was happening around the boulder they used as cover.

He could see the posterior of a large animal, jerking successively like it was pulling at something. Disturbing yelps filled the air and the animal fell backward with its prize tightly encased between its teeth. It rolled near their position but was too preoccupied with the bloody arm in its possession to detect the clones observing it.

Wrecker knew Tech was recording, there was no way he wasn’t. Not when the monster before them had no skin whatsoever to cover its bones. The canine-like monstrosity easily reached Tech’s waist, had no external skin, leaving its bones to shine under the green tint of their night vision, muscles were observable between the ribs and along the joints, but that was it. No skin.

"If only we could capture one." He muttered to which Hunter answered with a glare under his helmet.

As it ate, Tech’s appreciative whispers filled the comm, muttering about the extra smaller ribs that circled the abdomen of the monster, keeping its intestines from falling all over the ground and marveling about the movement of each muscle, totally bare for his curious eyes to see and analyze at will.

"Fine fine. We won't be getting one of those perfect study specimens." He grumbled, reporting his gaze to the organism that crunched the humerus with only moderate difficulty. "Fascinating."

"No, it's not." Crosshair elbowed Hunter who redirected his gaze to a hollow tree where a figure was shivering, hidden in the darkness.

"That's her." He confirmed, the sniper's impeccable sight was not to be doubted.

"Why aren't they attacking her?" Wrecker questioned, puzzled.

Two other beasts were walking only steps away from your poor hiding spot, ignoring you totally despite acknowledging your presence with occasional glances towards you.

"I have some theories but they are all shots in the dark." Tech answered when he realized that they were all waiting for his highlights.

"That's just perfect." Crosshair growled.

The tall clone counted 4 of them, walking between two bodies to tear at the flesh and stain their white skulls with fresh blood.

He wondered if his brute strength would be enough to smash their bones if needed when he noticed you slowly standing up, hands behind your body to steady yourself against the trunk.

"Maybe she could come here instead of us going there." Wrecker pointed out. If only he could catch your attention without catching theirs. "Tech. Do you still have your laser?"

The toy they kept around to annoy Crosshair whenever he was too relaxed on leave could be more useful than its original purpose.

Wrecker was amazed at how unafraid of the canines you were, standing next to one of them to pull at the bow on one of the beheaded corpses with your foot.

"Good idea." Tech walked to the other side of the rock where he could have a clear view of your limping form, slowly making your way toward one of the dead bodies.

"She's tied up." Remarked Hunter, his voice merely above a whisper but frightening nonetheless. Your aggressors should be glad that the dogs got them first.

Crosshair had the creature in his aim, an arrow already pointed at its head if it dared to make a move in your direction.

At one point the bow got stuck, the snapping mouth of the monster next to you was deeply buried into the open chest of what once was a man, blocking your progression toward the shoulders.

Wrecker's breath blocked in his throat and Crosshair cursed under his breath as they saw you tentatively poke the skull of the monster with a very shaky foot before almost falling on your ass with a muffled yelp at how quickly you moved it back when the big bony dog jerked its head up to look at you.

Your wide eyes stared back at it until it lost interest and moved further down the body to nib at some abdominal organs. Quickly you pulled out the bow with your foot, head tilted down to your chest to look at your work.

Tech used this moment to point the red laser at your chest, immediately catching your attention by moving it from side to side. Wrecker grinned as your head lifted in their direction, eyes wide in surprise. You spotted them in seconds, maybe because Wrecker was waving.

Words were muffled by the rope around your mouth, but the wild shaking of your head was clear. Even with only a half functioning helmet, Wrecker could read the fear in your gaze.

Tech couldn't close the light fast enough. One skull turned at the source of the small brightness. As soon as it spotted them, earsplitting yaps covered the snarls of the feasting animals, catching the pack’s attention simultaneously. Soon 4 pairs of predatory red eyes stared at them, their maws chattering in anticipation.

#bad batch x reader #wrecker x reader #tech x reader #crosshair x reader #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #clone force 99 #star wars #clone wars

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imagineclaireandjamie · 5 years

Note

I know, I’m greedy... but anymore deep within? I’m so curious to see where this goes 🙏🏻 Also, bless you authors. This is a wonderful space full of talent and I’ve been reading non stop!

Deep In The Darkness Peering: PART ii Chapter TWO:

Ordinarily, Claire would have been asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. Tonight, however, her brain refused to allow her sleep and she sat up in bed, her mind going over their evening interactions.

As she lay alone, Jamie’s words were still rolling around in her mind. She hadn’t expected them but as he had opened up to her she felt obliged to do the same. Only John knew about her doctorate, even Glenna didn’t know. How she’d managed to keep it from her co-workers for this long, but she had. As a junior doctor she had busied herself with writing journal articles and publishing her medical notes under a pseudonym, somehow keeping her father alive through her own words. Once again John had been an angel, coming to her rescue and helping to get her a job as a nurse whilst keeping her medical training under wraps.

The muffled sounds of Jamie stirring drew her out of her fog as she glanced quickly towards the door. Half expecting him to settle, she rubbed her eyes. But just as she was about to reach across and turn her light off, a short, sharp cry bought her head up once more. Claire was exhausted so she didn’t question why she had failed to hear him earlier. Rising, she crept slowly over to her door, peeling it open as quietly as she was able as she waited to see if he would calm and continue into a more peaceful sleep.

His anguished cries, though, continued after a brief pause, subtle gaelic words floating down the corridor as Claire snuck towards her guest room.

Curled on his side, he had pressed himself as close to the wall as he was able to get; his legs tucked tightly against his chest as the duvet bunched between his thighs. She could feel the tension radiating off him as his face scrunched up as if he were physically in pain.

From her position in the doorway she could already see that the stitches to one of his deeper wounds were beginning to split, and his shoulder blades contracting, painfully, against one another just as blood began to seep through his nightshirt. Unable and unwilling to sit aside and watch without assisting, Claire crawled beside him, her hands shaking as she wrapped herself around Jamie, whispering soothing words against the back of his neck as she calmly massaged the tense muscles along the top of his accessible arm.

“It’s alright, Jamie. You’re safe, you’re home…” Without thinking too carefully about her words she rocked him backwards and forwards, the motion causing Jamie to release his legs as his breathing began to return to a more regular pace. She felt him inhale and exhale, the goosebumps on his flesh receding slowly as his whole body started to sink into the soft mattress.

For a moment she thought he’d woken as he shifted, the angular plains of his back now smoothed out as he stretched his legs straight. But it soon became obvious that he hadn’t as he stilled. Though his back worried her, Claire didn’t want to rouse him now that he was relaxed so she readied herself to stay by him. Her presence seemed to calm him, and though she worried how he’d be when he finally woke, fatigued pulled her under and her eyes closed as she rested against him.

The next thing she saw was the sun streaming in through the thin curtains as she pushed herself from the empty bed. Beside her, it was clear Jamie hadn’t long woken himself as the sheets were still heated from his presence.

Bacon. The scent of it wafted through the room and she thrust her hair back into a rough pony before wiping the sleep from her eyes. Walking into the kitchen she caught sight of the back of him, his nightshirt still stained from the previous evening but he seemed unfazed by it as he made himself at home over her hob.

“I see you managed to start the gas off.” She said, announcing her arrival whilst skirting the obvious conversation starter.

“Aye,” he replied, turning a little to look at her as he spoke. He hadn’t flinched which meant he’d known her to be there which reminded her that he probably wasn’t that used to his own company. “It gave me a wee bit of a hard time, but I got it to work eventually - I hope ye dinna mind?” He phrased it as a question but she could see a momentary worry line curve into his brow.

Quickly, she shook her head and smiled. “Not at all, use anything and everything you need.”

“Would ye like one?”

“That would be lovely, I’ll put the coffee on.”

Tipping his head to the side, she could see that he’d already started the percolator as the black drops began to drip though the thin paper mask that had kept the grains contained whilst dry.

“Will you let me look at your back then? Just in case.” She broached the issue quietly but confidently as he stopped turning the bacon for just a moment before continuing until each carefully sat back in the sizzling oil. Silence surrounded them as the seconds slowly fell away and she began to regret speaking at all.

“Aye.”

Claire could tell from his half-whispered reply that the memory of it had stirred something altogether more unpleasant to mind and she was grateful that the awkward (for her) silence had given him the time he needed to process that. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.” With a cautious smile lifting her lips very slightly, she reached for her small medical kit - opening the small draw beneath the sink and placing it on the countertop as she searched for what she thought she might need.

Jamie turned the hob down to allow the bacon to heat gently before placing himself on a stool. Holding the base of his shirt, Claire caught him deliberating out of the corner of her eye.

“You can take that off - if that’s alright?” Choice was something that had been taken from him along with a myriad of other things and as much as she wanted to be there to help him through this transitionary period, she also wanted him to take control of as much as possible - even down to whether he wanted her to see his back...or not.

Luckily, he nodded briefly, the muscles clenching along the base of his jaw as he did so.

Once she had the ointment and antiseptic to hand, Claire turned to the task at hand. One glance let her know that it was just a simple procedure. The damage was slight, thank goodness and the stitches appeared to have held - though the tension in his back had caused them to split between the thin gaps causing the bloody mess on the back of his top.

“It might sting a little, but it isn’t as bad as I thought.”

“No A&E trips needed then?” He joked, hunching himself forwards as he prepared himself for her touch.

“Not this time.”

They were quiet as she worked to clean him up though she burned to ask him an endless ream of questions. It was only after she had passed him a clean shirt that she dared ask the first and most important one.

Waiting until he’d plated up their late breakfast and with a cup of freshly brewed coffee in front of them, she took one bite of her sandwich and swallowed before asking it.

“Has that happened every night since you arrive, Jamie?”

“The nightmares?” He asked knowing immediately what she meant.

“Yes.”

“Aye, and before that.” He answered honestly, seeing no need for lies between then.

“You weren’t speaking English.”

“It’s protection, you see.”

Claire could see the moisture building in the corners of his eyes and she wondered whether it was the right time to be pressing him into talking to her but she seemed to have started something that he wasn’t prepared to finish now. Continuing to eat her breakfast, she allowed him the chance to tell her anything he needed to in that moment.

“Less than 2% of Scots speak it. Most of the guards dinna have the skill and the English ones certainly don’t…” the observation hung in the air between them for a short while and Claire could have guessed the name of one particular officer but she simply nodded to acknowledge the statement, “...when yer faced wi’ the devil himself - you have to be prepared, aye?”

Just for a second her heart stopped dead in her chest as fear etched itself across his face.

“When did they start?”

“After my arrest. I dinna ken what happened that night, Claire. Sometimes I’ll see things, but they’re blurred and incoherent. In my dreams, though, I see things I think canna possibly be real and I’m trapped in my own body unable to fight free.”

All of a sudden all of those sleepless nights seemed to weigh him down and his shoulders slumped under the pressure of it. There was something completely raw about his admission and she made a mental note - now really wasn’t the time to press him for more information on the night of the alleged assault.

“But then, last night, all of a sudden it all seemed to dissipate. And I woke wi’ you holding onto me like ye thought I might drown.”

“It helped?”

“Aye.”

The haunted look had disappeared from his eyes causing Claire to unclench her fists and grin over at him.

“Thank you, Claire, Truly.”

#Anonymous #;Mod MBD #Deep Within The Darkness Peering #jamie and claire #outlander fanfiction

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hyannah · 7 years

Text

Anon Archives vol. 1

I really value communication with you guys, but I also don’t want to clog everyone’s dashboard. To fix this I’m going to be compiling anon messages into archives unless I feel they they should be answered separately. To receive a quick response, feel free to message me off anon so I can reply privately :) *smooches*

I think my lineart tool is just the default brush with max density and 10% min size. Here’s the settings for my two most used brushes :).

It’s a universe set entirely apart from our world and history - think of it more as a dark fairytale. In terms of aesthetics, though, I’d place it around 1880s-1900s.

Not all that different from the way a lot of artists use them! Just clipping masks with the texture layer set to “overlay” and opacity between 15-25 depending on the scale of the canvas. I’m very picky about my colours so all my textures are b&w to not mess with my hues.

“Stop, sto-” Wolfe manages to choke out around the blood coating the inside of his mouth, finally gaining control over his broken body as Ghasper’s influence retreats back into his bloodstream. Coward, he growls inwardly, and receives a mocking chuckle from the hound that reverberates from the very core of his being. Hunter towers tall and unmoving over him, eyes glazed magenta with Mallory arching proudly over his shoulder like a silent guardian. His usually full and luscious lips are contorted into a vicious snarl, sweat-drenched garb clinging to his sculpted thighs. Thick, toned, manly thi - [UNKNOWN FORCES VIOLENTLY WRENCH MY KEYBOARD FROM MY HANDS AND I’M FORCEFULLY ESCORTED FROM MY BLOG]

Thank you very much! When I was 15 I studied a 3-year course at WCS and graduated in 2015 with a degree in graphic design. I articulated straight on to 2nd year at University of the West of Scotland where I studied computer animation. It focused mostly on 3D. It’s not a specialised art school or anything but it doesn’t have to be - remember that if you plan to study art. I plan to go back to get my honours degree after my gap year! I graduate with my regular diploma in November I think.

That’s okay, anon! Believe me, just having people think of my characters as cosplay-able (what) makes me so happy. Thank you!

Thank you so much! I really appreciate you taking the time to check out my stuff. I hope I can continue to please you in the future :’) I’m totally not worthy of those sweet words u///u.

Thank you for your suggestion! I’ve seen a few webcomics do something similar, now that you mention it. I’m not so sure how I feel about cross-platforming my comic just yet, since I like the idea of a “central hub” of sorts...at least for the first few chapters. Tumblr does offer a lot of customizability (that’s not a real word Heather) but I think I’ll stick to Tapas or Webtoons for the moment! I really value your insight though, thank you.

Thank you very, very much! Oh man, I’m not really sure I’m the person you want to be taking any solid advice from, but I’ll give it a go. I consider myself way more of an illustrator than an animator, so I’ll give you drawing advice.

Be open to all kinds of art. Even if you live and breathe cartoons and character design, you’ll be surprised by how much you’ll learn just from taking the time to observe and appreciate things outside your own interests. I’m a dyed in the wool character illustrator and digital artist, but I can’t tell you how many hours I’ve spent marvelling at H.R Giger and Ilya Repin’s work. You don’t have to become a fine arts connoisseur by any means, but it helps to be open minded.

If you’re at the awkward in-between stages of your art - where you can draw with relative confidence but you’re struggling to find your individuality - try making influence maps. These helped me so much when I was 14 and going through my first “style crisis” where I hated everything I drew. This was because I was ignorant to my own interests. What do I love about my favourite artists? What gets my blood pumping? Why is it that I love vibrant colour pallets, cartoons and expressive eyes, but also marvel at the gritty eldritch atmosphere of Zdzisław Beksiński’s hyper detailed nightmare paintings? Is that even normal? It is. Variety is great as an artist and knowing what you as an individual like and dislike is invaluable.

When you draw, try and minimise the amount of times you take your hand off the page. If you’re prone to “flicking” your pen a lot, it can make your lines look inconsistent. By training your hands to make confident strokes, you’ll get cleaner drawings and learn to work faster.

If you’re a sensitive person then art can be a surprisingly difficult hobby to maintain, as you’ll find your emotions bleed out into anything you create. This is great for naturally driven people who can channel their frustration and insecurity into bettering themselves, but some people are fragile. That’s okay. There’s no shame in feeling overwhelmed. It’s alright to put the pen down and take a break for a while. Just promise me you’ll pick it back up again.

Gesture drawing is great for learning anatomy. Instead of getting caught up in having proportions/details perfect, try to instead focus on the pose in its most basic form. Capturing the momentum and direction of the body can give your drawings a more fluid look and reduce rigid characters.

Well, that’s just a bunch of really weird and vague tips but I hope it helps. It’s a broad topic to cover...if you need anything more specific then I’ll help as best I can :)

I think people need to tone down their virtue signalling and let people enjoy themselves. This is why people are too afraid to have fun anymore, and why merciless cringe culture is going to haunt young kids into adulthood. Animation memes will fall out of popularity like every fad in existence has done before it and you’ll get your wish.

#anon archives #asks #phew this took a while #but i read everyone's tags and captions and comments so I want to give back as much as possible #quite a rude anon at the end but i feel strongly about the subject #anon

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daebakinc · 7 years

Text

We Make the Kingdom

Image by silverdagger865

Pairing: Yongguk x OC Genre: Fantasy, with Angst and Smut to come Summary: After a vampire attack leaves you almost dead, you are rescued by a group of werelions, powers long thought to be extinct. Upon discovering the same magic flows in your blood, you join their fight against encroaching vampires and another, very human monster, to save the kingdom. Previous parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 , 8, 9(M), 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16(M), 17, 18, Final

Limbo between life and death is dark and numb and quiet. A perfect place to hide from probing memories of a haunting nightmare. It's too good to last. The thud of booted feet and cold clink of metal on metal disturb your peaceful oblivion. The sounds drag you unwilling towards the threshold of consciousness. You don’t want to wake up. You don’t remember why, but waking is bad. Very bad.

The boots come closer, kicking wood aside. “I think this one’s still alive.”

“Is there a bite?”

Calloused skin and leather brush your cheek as someone pushes your head aside with a sniff and a sigh. “Yes. About a day or two ago from the smell.”

Hooves rattle the loose stone beneath your scraped feet. A saddle creaks and someone else takes another deep sniff. “She’ll turn soon. Kill her,” the second, deeper voice commands.

“Seems a pity. Looks pretty beneath the muck.”

“She will not be so pretty when she goes for your throat,” the voice replies with an irony-laden half laugh. His tone softens as he adds, “No on can survive a bite like we can, let alone this girl. You’ll-”

“Be saving her. I know, I know. I’ll be quick.”

Despite his words, the knife that suddenly presses against your heart hesitates. Its deadly tip doesn't even break skin. Your remaining strength rallies to force your eyes open. If you’re going to die, you’re as sure as hell going to at least look the beasts killing you in the eyes. They had everything else far too easy.

The wide eyes that look back at you seem too deep to belong to a monster. The face too handsome too. At least what you can make out as your vision blurs.

“Himchan!”

Your would-be killer severs the cord holding your hands above your head. Your entire body collapses with a weak whimper. Thick arms catch you just before you hit the ground.

The second voice returns. “What is it?”

“Her eyes, they aren’t a newborn’s. One of them is gold.”

“Gold? Open them.”

“Come on, darlin’,” your rescuer croons, cradling you soothingly. “Come on, look at me. You can do it. Just open your eyes a few seconds for me and you can go back to sleep. Please.”

He did say “please.” With a sigh, you fight your eyes open again, struggling to see in the dark. Sparse moonlight outlines the two men hovering over you. It lends them silver halos, casting them as avenging angels in this farce. Beautiful angels. Almost as beautiful as the glowing eyes looking down at you. So different from the last ones.

“I can’t believe it...” the other whispers, reaching down to stroke your hair.

“That’s a good girl. You’re safe now, darlin’.” The one holding you rubs his cheek against yours, keeping his voice low.

A loud roar that shakes the stars cuts off your questioning of his strange gesture. The sound sets your heart racing as you try to hide, squeezing your eyes shut again. Not again. More death, more ruin. Running boots skid to a stop nearby as echoes of inhuman snarls and screams reach you.

“Himchan! They’ve surrounded Junhong and Youngjae!”

“Daehyun, get her on my horse! Now! We’ll take care of the clan.”

You rise through the air. He holds you more firmly against his warmth as you rock with his steps. Daehyun, you remind yourself. Another human. Safety. You chant the word in your head, hoping it's true and not a dream. Horse smell fills your nose. You’re slung up, one leg pushed to sit astride the hard leather. Your body screams at the stretch.

“Think you can stay in the saddle?”

You shake your head and try not to vomit on him, nausea swirling with rising pain.

“It’s all right; I’ll tie you in. Just stay still.” Daehyun hurriedly wraps rope around your waist and the saddle horn, the movement bringing him closer. He easily manipulates your slumped body like a doll as he binds you to your seat.

You clear your parched throat, croaking, “Lied.”

“What?”

“You lied. Open my eyes… could sleep.”

“Ah,” he chuckles, securing you with a final tug before resting a hand on your thigh. “Don’t worry. I’m going to get us out of here. Trust me.”

“Don’t know you.” You flinch as the screams get closer. Unwelcome images flicker in your mind. He needs to flee with you now before they catch you again.

“We can worry about that later.” Tack jingles and creaks beside you. “Hold on now, time to fly.”

With no other warning, the horse beneath you jumps forward. Its hooves pound away from your nightmare. You fall forward and hug the horse’s neck for dear life. The horn digs into your stomach but you barely register the discomfort. The rolling gait sets your head spinning, sending you spiraling back into unconsciousness. You're lost to the passing of time. Sky and land blend into indistinguishable blackness as you pass through the night unhindered.

Branches snag your clothes and scratch your skin. The bursts of pain prick your eyes open to slits. Fallen stars twinkle in a river along the path you ride. It takes you longer to realize the stars are reflected torches, flickering along the ramparts of a looming castle on a hill. Minutes or hours later you pass through its high walls. Your head still foggy, you don't recognize that the horse beneath you has stopped. The rope falling away from your body startles you alert.

“Easy there,” Daehyun soothes, lifting you from your seat into his arms again. His smooth, steady voice does settle your nerves. A little. “We’re safe here. Those bloodsuckers don't dare come sniffing around here.”

Huddling into his warmth as he walks, you grip his coat, mumbling into it. “What was that?”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You might have a rough night ahead of you. You're not out of the woods yet.”

“What have you brought back, Daehyun?” A voice as deep as night suddenly inquires from a few paces away. Your grip on Daehyun's coat tightens in fear. “You go out on a hunt and return with someone who reeks of vampire.”

“She is bitten, but, Yongguk,… I think she’s one of us.”

“One of us?” Footsteps approach, a hand easing your face from Daehyun’s chest.

Instinct screams for you to flinch away, but you force yourself still. The hand on your face is gentle despite its callouses. Daehyun's relaxed muscles beneath you further signal this is someone to trust.

“She has our eyes. Well, one. One more time, darlin’, I promise. Open your eyes.”

Although their words confuse you, you comply, too tired to do anything else. Your eyes stay open just long enough to glimpse tan skin lit by firelight and another pair of glowing eyes.

Long fingers rub over the bruise on your cheek, even that barest pressure making you whimper. “Poor thing.”

Yongguk’s fingers move down your neck to the burning skin of your shoulder as Daehyun adds in a disgusted tone, “They had her strung up on the village outskirts like a piece of game. Looks like they played with her a bit beforehand. I don’t think they knew or they would have killed her as soon as they found her.”

“They should have smelled her before they attacked, not to mention tasted…”

“I thought the king found us all. I’ve never seen a normal human with our eyes though.”

“Because they do not exist.” There’s a brief silence before Yongguk continues. “Bring her to the watch room.”

“Not the den? But-“

“She has latent were-blood, her eye is proof of that, but it may not be enough to keep the venom from turning her if they didn’t recognize it. I will not risk our family on that chance.”

Daehyun starts walking again, the slight breeze from his movement chilling your bones. Your fingers slowly sneak through the gap in his coat, seeking any kind of heat. His skin feels like fire, but you welcome the burning.

He hisses as your fingertips graze his shirt. His body jolts, but he keeps walking, his steps bumpier as he ascends stairs. By the time he stops, your entire body is shaking. Your mind is becoming murkier with every second, muddled by the chill that turns your heartbeat to dull throbs. Even being enclosed by walls does nothing to stop the biting cold. Daehyun’s previously abnormal body heat feels barely lukewarm.

“Yongguk? She feels like ice. Is she turning?”

“If she is, that’s one of the first signs. Give her to me and lock the door behind you,” he demands, his hands already sliding beneath your back. “When the others return, send Youngjae up, but he is to only talk to me through the door, understood?”

“But-”

“Now.” The growl in Yongguk’s voice leaves no room for argument.

Daehyun’s arms fall away, but Yongguk proves a furnace, one you eagerly cling too. You vaguely hear the click of lock as he brings you further into the room. However, anything other than your body’s misery is becoming increasingly unworthy of note. The blankets that Yongguk lowers you onto are too soft, unreal. Your stiffened grip on his shirt when he tries to put you on the bed is pathetically weak. He easily breaks it and leaves you.

Desperate for any heat, you curl into yourself. Your bones freeze as your skin burns. Breathing hurts, pressure building with each gasp. Your heart tries to escape your chest with each frantic pound. Your hand grasps at your neck where the pain radiates from.

The skin there turns slick. Changing hands, you bring it closer to your face. You open your eyes. Horror spikes through the pain when you find your blood covering your fingers.

It runs in rivulets down the lines of your palm to sluggishly drip on the blanket. You helplessly glance at your shoulder. More blood drains from your body. Your stomach revolts, but only dry heaves rattle your chest. No matter how hard you press, the blood flows until you’re lying in sticky sheets of crimson. Sobs escape your chapped lips, but you have no more tears. Only animal whimpers.

“Shhh. It's not real. Whatever you're seeing, it's not real.”

A hand pulls your shoulder so you roll over, your forehead meeting a cool wet cloth. Your gaze locks on the golden eyes above you. Rough sheets meet your exploring hands instead of blood. Relief and the returning cold sets every limb shivering.

“Keep fighting,” Yongguk murmurs, pulling the blankets back up around you and brushing back your hair away with his other hand. “If you can last the night, you’ll be safe.” “If-…I don’t?” When he doesn’t reply, you turn your head.

He watches. His hand leaves your hair to rest high on his thigh. You follow the movement with your eyes. Light glints off a silver knife tucked into his belt. Looking back into Yongguk’s eyes, something there chills you further. Beneath the care that guides the cloth dabbing at your face is a much harder resolution. If Yongguk suspects you are turning into one of those monsters, he won’t hesitate to kill you. You have no doubt of that. Even as fear washes over you, you can’t blame him. As scary as dying is, you’d rather be dead than one of them.

You close your eyes again. “Thank you.”

Yongguk grunts and wrings the cloth out into the bowl of water before replacing it on your forehead.

You try. You try with ever ounce of will you have left to do what Yongguk said. To fight. Every passing minute it gets harder. Each beat of your heart pulses pain through your nerves. The blankets are long cast on the floor by your flailing. Your pillow is wet from how many times you've bitten down on it to muffle screams. Every time you do, Yongguk gives your hand a squeeze. It keeps the feverish nightmares from consuming your mind whole. But you know a losing battle when you see one. Your already depleted energy is almost spent and what is left won't last much longer.

You're ready. There is nothing left for you anyway. You're sure of that. It won't be hard to leave the pain when there is nothing to gain from soldiering on.

With a ragged breath, you turn back towards Yongguk. “End it. Please.”

A knock on the door interrupts whatever answer he was going to give. Yongguk extracts his hand from your clasp to stand. “Youngjae? Is everyone back?”

A new voice comes through the door.“Yes. We're all fine. Daehyun said they found another were. Is it true?”

There's that word again. “Were.” The term's meaning escapes you. If only your brain wasn't so muddled so you could remember.

Yongguk lowers his voice as if to spare you the conversation, but with his hand gone, it's the anchor to reality that you cling to. “I'm not sure. She would have turned already if she was human, but she's not immune. The venom is killing her.”

A scream rips your throat to quickly for you to smother, punctuating Yongguk's words.

“I think you need to force her to shift,” Youngjae says after a few moments of ringing silence. “Her human body is too weak. My guess is she has enough were-blood to stop her from turning, but not enough to stop the venom from being fatal. If she's in were form, that should trigger her full immunity. Should.”

“How do I do that?”

Another scream muffles Youngjae's answer. Feverishly, you start wondering if you can grab Yongguk's knife when he returns to end things yourself. The pain is driving you over the brink of sanity.

You sense Yongguk move to sit by your bed again. “I'll try it. I'll come down at dawn one way or another. Go.”

He uses the cloth to wipe away blood from your split lip. You shift to look at him.

“What do you... need to do?” you ask.

“You're going to have to trust me.” He takes your hand again, pushing aside the tattered sleeve covering your arm. “It will hurt, but hopefully it will end quickly.”

Anything will be better than your current agony. “Just do it,” you rasp. You close your eyes and bite your pillow, bracing yourself.

Yongguk's other hand takes a firm grip on your elbow, raising your arm. There's a low, booming growl before sharp teeth sink into your forearm.

Shrieking, you jerk, but his hold is iron. You convulse as even greater pain sears your blood. Your bones creak and rip and melt. Mindless, you struggle to break free. You fight with all the desperate strength of a frantic animal willing to bite off its own foot to escape a trap. Finally, you flip yourself free from the bed with a roar. Your sight dims as your head smacks on the stone floor. You quickly scramble to your feet. All four of them.

Instead of hands, you see large sandy colored paws with unsheathed claws when you look down. Instead of a surprised yelp, a yowl comes when you open your mouth. A thousand smells bombard your nose so you fall into a fit of sneezing. Another hallucination has taken over.

Head shaking to dislodge the new horror, you skitter backwards in a panic. You step on something that sends a new sting of pain down your spine. You spin, knocking into the bed. It sends both of you sprawling.

“Stop!” A man slides in front of you, palms outstretched. His figure is hazy and dulled . “Look at me.”

His sudden strangeness terrifies you even more. He is a threat. Danger. Yowling, you jump away. Your claws catch on the overturned bed's sheets. They tangle and send you head over heels. As you tear and growl at the confining fabric, someone slams into you.

Flung on your back, you immediately surge upward. Solid paws push you back, claws pricking your fur in warning. Black hair whips your face. Your lips pull back in an angry snarl, but the beast above you gives a deafening roar that silences you. His golden eyes in his broad face stare down into yours. They demand nothing less than submission.

Stop! The deep voice rumbles through your mind, exuding dominance. Still!

His weight presses down on you so you have no other choice. Your breath comes in pants and soft moans. Confusion still jumbles your mind, but you instinctively know not to challenge the male pinning you. He is alpha. There's something familiar about the voice as well. You trust the voice.

Pain? Hurt?

In your terror, the pain had fled your mind. Now that you're motionless, it comes back. Yet it's muted, like a burn after you apply ice. Tentatively, you reach out to reply, Better. Real? Confused. Tired.

Explain later. Afraid?

No. The answer surprises you.

With a huff, the lion steps off your chest. You roll to your side, but he puts a paw on your side. He lies down behind you, his other paw hooking around you as well.

Sleep. Heal. I watch.

You glance over your shoulder, caught in his gaze again. Despite yourself, you believe him. Your earlier frenzy stole the little energy you had left. The ignorant innocence of exhausted sleep beckons. With no other prompting, you lay your head down on the stone and fall away from the world of delusions and events and words beyond your power to comprehend.

Next Chapter

Kingdom Map, The Keep Map, Weres scale, Were Guide

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