#survival situation | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dominimoonbeam · 2 years

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Into The Ground

Darlin/Huxley with a little Darlin&David because I can’t help that.

Huxley is camping alone when he rescues Darlin. The sun is up but they only have until it goes down to get out of the woods before Quinn and his friends catch up to them.

tags: survival situation, danger, injury, near death experience, Quinn is a monster, Darlin has terrible self esteem, Huxley is a amazing, angst, hurt/comfort, i totally did that thing where i threw someone off of something again...

Into The Ground

The wolf ran on three legs, one injured, body bleeding from too many cuts. It was dark and they were too far from anything even close to safety.

Quinn and his friends were gaining ground. On all four, Darlin would have been high pressed to outrun vampires for long. But they didn’t stand a chance now and they were in the middle of nowhere. They’d been following a lead on Quinn, alone, just like David told them not to fucking do. They were out of town, driving through woods. They should have seen it coming. They should have considered that Quinn might figure out they had a blood bond and that they were tracking him—that he might use it to set a trap, a trap like two psycho vamps shoving their fucking car off the road.

Darlin came up to the edge of a cliff. Nowhere to run. They looked back, across the short clearing to the tree line, just as the three shadows slipped out into moonlight, closing in.

Quinn’s teeth flashed in a grin. He had them cornered. He was going to take them alive. But how long would they stay that way? How long would they want to?

Fuck him.

Darlin went off the edge before Quinn could reach them, not missing the way he rushed and the panic that lit across his face. It would look caring to anyone who didn’t know him—who didn’t know that losing the opportunity to torture and kill them himself would be infuriating to him. It was a loss that looked like grief.

Darlin would have smiled and flipped him off as they fell if they’d been in human form. Instead, they just fell, watching his shape turn to a shadow along the ridge high above, the stars beyond and the first shades of dawn somewhere too far away to the east.

They hit the cold river and everything hurt at once. They went under and the current grabbed at them like greedy hands. Darlin was familiar with greedy hands. They were also familiar with pain, so they kicked against it even when it seemed futile. They gasped air at the surface before being dragged under again, trying to stay conscious—trying to find shore—trying not to shift back. It would be even colder in human skin.

They reached the surface again, sucking down air and fighting the instinct to howl. No one would hear them out there, no one would come even if they did, and they’d only be telling Quinn where they were and that they were alive. If they managed to get out of the river, they’re only chance would be him giving up the chase.

They realized too late that they’d stopped moving, stopped even trying to swim. They shifted human and everything got worse, the cold and pain dragging a cry from their lips. At least they were at the surface, face up to the moon and the waters not as choppy as before. But they couldn’t get to the side. They couldn’t move.

Darlin stared at the moon, their breaths coming tighter, like the cold was literally squeezing their chest. And then they sank, the water sliding over their face for the last time, vision blurring and going dark.

They didn’t hear the voice or the splashing. They didn’t even feel the big, warm hands wrapping around their arms and pulling them back to the surface.

Huxley hadn’t believed his eyes when he first saw a body floating down the river, but the shock only lasted a split second. They made the worst sound he thought he’d ever heard—like crying and dying tangled in one final breath, and it launched him straight into the water. They went under but he wasn’t far. The river was so cold, his skin burned and his teeth clicked. He caught their arm and pulled them to him, easily hoisting them out of the water and against his shoulder. He didn’t register that they were naked until he was stepped back up the bank.

“Stay with me, buddy,” Huxley said, not sure they could hear him. They were breathing though, so that was something. He started back toward where he’d made camp, the sky turning shades of pink as the sun rose. He’d been on his way to a viewpoint to watch it, but that was long forgotten now.

He’d set up camp in a clearing not too far away. He covered ground fast when they started shaking hard. “You’re okay,” he promised, even though his teeth were clicking too. “I’ve got dry clothes and a fire. You’re going to be okay.”

They whined.

He reached his camp site and gently laid them down on the grass near the smoldering little pit he’d dug for the fire. He grabbed another piece of wood and tossed it on to get the flames back up.

They whined again, kicking at the ground with one leg. “P-Put it out…” The words shook so hard in their chest that he barely registered them.

Hux pulled off his wet shirt, tossing it to the side and grabbing at his backpack. “What?”

“Fire… Out…”

He had just pulled some dry clothes from the bag when he realized what they were saying. He looked down at them again, for the first time, really. Their eyes were closed, their cheek and temple welted like they’d struck something. “What? Dude… You need to warm up.” Maybe they were delirious? Maybe— His gaze slid down their body. Open wounds bled slowly. Red crescent shapes on their shoulder and their thigh. Bite marks, and not the bite of another wolf.

“He’ll see it,” they rattled out the whisper, struggling to stay conscious.

Huxley frowned hard. Someone had done this to them. Someone had done this to another person. And that someone was a vampire.

The wolf shook, trying to kick at the fire again. They had to be so strong and so stubborn to be focused and moving at all right now.

Huxley grabbed their leg to stop the kicking as gently as possibly, careful of the bites. “Shh. It’s okay. It’s okay, dude.”

But they fought more, even trying to roll away—maybe to crawl or try to get up. Shit, they were tough.

“Wait. Wait. Can you open your eyes?”

They stilled, confused maybe? Still dragging uneven breaths.

Huxley gently braced his hands on either side of their face. “Just for a second. Open your eyes, tough stuff.”

The wolf curled their lip, flashing teeth at him and he smiled, because that was good. They definitely wouldn’t be dying on him anytime soon. And then, slowly, they pried their lids open and stared blearily back at him. Huxley smiled. Beautiful eyes. “Look at the sky, dude.” Those eyes flicked past him to the stars—only the stars were fading fast under the rise of pinks and orange. “It’s morning.” He saw them realize it and everything it meant. Their whole body relaxed, one tears escaping before they passed out.

He sighed a breath of relief, trying not to think about the vampire in the woods that might be hunting them. They were definitely afraid he was. Huxley pulled the first aid kit out and bandaged the open cuts before quickly checking them for broken bones. Their wrist was banged up and swelling, but not broken. He maneuvered them into a pair of his sweats and his hoodie. They were shaking again. He put socks on them and moved them onto the bedroll. He hadn’t brought a tent. It wasn’t supposed to rain, and he liked seeing the stars. He regretted that now.

Huxley changed his clothes too, laying out the wet stuff on the grass. The sun would be up soon. The day would lose that biting chill of night. He shivered. He didn’t have another sweatshirt. It was supposed to be just him. He put another piece of wood on the fire. The wolf was still shaking, curled on their side toward the flames. He leaned over them and touched their face—avoiding the parts that looked like they were starting to bruise. They were still so cold.

He weighed his options fast.

They obviously needed to get out of there, but the fastest and easiest way was through the woods, which were thick enough that a vamp could move around there even on the brightest day. That alone wouldn’t usually put him off, but the wolf seemed honestly terrified and considering how they looked, he could only imagine what sort of monster had managed to take them down.

The alternative hike would keep them in the daylight. He knew he could make that trek in a few hours on his own, but he wasn’t so sure about it with this wolf over his shoulder. Maybe if he could warm them up and get them on their feet?

But they were still shaking. Fuck, he was shaking too.

He’d never been more impatient for the sun to get high before.

“Dude, can you hear me?” he said, sitting down next to them. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to hold you, okay? I’m not going to hurt you or do anything messed up, I promise. But you’re really fuckin’ cold.” He waited, like maybe they would respond, but they didn’t. With a sigh he scooped them up, sleeping bag and all, and pulled them into his lap.

They flinched, hands curling into fists, but still asleep.

“Shhh, you’re okay,” he promised, wrapping his arms around them, with their back to his chest. “You’re okay.”

When Darlin woke up, their first thought was that they weren’t dead.

That was interesting.

And vaguely worrisome.

They cracked their eyes open, head aching, and stared at a mostly out fire. A fire. In a camp. Everything came back to them at once. Quinn and those other blood suckers in the woods. The cliff. The river. The stranger.

They spasmed and arms tightened around them.

Their eyes were fully open now, body tense. They registered the pain in their wrist and remembered it was messed up.

“Are you awake?” a deep voice asked from behind them, those arms loosening and hands coming away, spread open in their line of sight like a show of peace. “I’m sorry for touching you, dude. But you were freezing. I didn’t do anything—”

“Okay,” Darlin said fast, wanting to put an end to that shit right quick. They weren’t used to people apologizing to them for anything, let alone for what was probably saving their life. They also weren’t used to people doing that. They looked around. They were in a clearing, but Darlin could see the tree line. It was still so dark in there. Quinn…Quinn could be in there. He could be headed right for them. “You have to go.”

The guy, an elemental by his aura, unraveled from them, big hands bracing their shoulders for another second to make sure they could sit up on their own. “Yeah. Let’s see if you can walk. I’ve got a path out that doesn’t go through much shade. I can carry you when it gets to be too much and I think we’ll make—”

“No,” Darlin shook their head, extracting themself from what must have been his sleeping bag. They were wearing clothes too. His clothes? The pants almost fell down when they stood up. Darlin dragged a few breaths, waiting for their vision to focus and head to clear, and then they used a little magic to call in their boots and jeans—the ones they would have shifted back into if they hadn’t been completely out of it. “You go that way. You’ll make it to your car before sunset?” Their head was splitting! They stepped out of his pants and handed them back to him with a mumbled thanks before struggling into their jeans with one good hand.

They were still shivering. Stupid river.

“Yeah, I will. I mean, we will. Why wouldn’t you go with me?”

Darlin sighed. They were tired, hungry, and in pain. “Do you have a phone?” they asked, stepping into their boots. They tried to tie the laces but like the buttons on their jeans, they couldn’t seem to do it with one hand.

“I do, but it doesn’t have service over here. I should get a connection when we get up that hill over there.” He took a step closer, hesitating like maybe he thought Darlin would flinch. Why? “Do you want help with that?”

Darlin finally looked at him. Damn, he was big. They almost said no to help but having their boots tied might be the difference between life and death tonight. With a nod they stood upright and waited. “What’s your name?”

“Huxley,” he said, smiling for the first time. “I’m glad you’re feeling a little better.” He knelt in front of them and tied their boots, double knotting them with an extra tug. When he stood upright, he reached toward them again. Darlin tensed but watched him quickly button the front of their jeans before dropping his hands back to his sides. He looked serious then. “Why wouldn’t you go with me? I know this area and it’s the best way—”

“If we don’t make it by sundown…” Darlin started and then stopped, rubbing at their temple. Quinn wouldn’t have given up. “You should go. You’ll make it”

“Wouldn’t we be safer together?” he countered, digging around in that backpack of his and coming back with a bottle of water and a protein bar, holding them both out.

Darlin almost laughed. He was like a walking miracle. They took the water first, uncapping it and drinking half before giving it back in exchange for the bar. “Thanks. And no, you’d be a lot safer without me. I appreciate you pulling me out of the river. You definitely saved my life. But I’m not going to get you killed for it.” And killed bad, to boot. Quinn wouldn’t be kind. Quinn was never kind. “When you get service on your phone, can you call—”

“No,” Huxley said, face screwing up in offense. “I’m not going to leave you out here, dude. That’s dumb. You’re on your feet and we’ll make it.”

Darlin blinked. There was so much certainty in his voice that it sounded like he’d drag them to the car if it came to it.

“I don’t think you’re getting what’s going on here,” Darlin said slowly. “There are three vampires in the woods and they’re going to track me. They’re probably already closing in. You need to get distance and get gone. No offense, big guy, but you’re kind of a snack.”

The elemental blinked and then folded his arms across her chest. “Buddy, I am a fucking meal,” he countered. “But I’m not unempowered and I’m not going to leave you here to die at sundown.”

Darlin snorted. “What are you going to do? Grow them a flower and ask them to leave?”

“And what are you going to do? Punch them with that busted wrist?”

Darlin frowned.

“Just walk with me. I know the way. We’ll make it before nightfall and be out of here.”

Huxley definitely made it sound like a good choice, and like it would be that simple. They cast their gaze in the direction, a rocky uphill hike. At least it was in the daylight and not through the woods. Darlin sighed, nodding. “Fine. But if I can’t keep up, you just go ahead and I’ll keep following.”

His lips pressed but he shrugged in vague agreement.

Darlin sighed and pocketed the wrapper from their protein bar. They weren’t going to be a dick and litter. His mouth twitched in a curious smile at that before he quickly grabbed up his stuff, cramming things back into the bag.

“Tell me when your phone gets service?” Darlin asked and started walking, their whole body sore and something tight in their chest that couldn’t be good. They wanted their couch in their dark apartment behind a deadbolt. They tried not to think about how unlikely they were to ever get there again. They’d made it out of bad situations plenty of times…but nothing this bad. At the very least, they needed to figure out how to keep this very nice stranger from dying too. Wasting time here arguing, or worrying about that pain in their side, wasn’t going to help. If they could just get to his car, they might actually get out of the woods alive.

They hadn’t really believed they would since they first did the numbers, their truck crushed, their wrist busted, and three blood suckers grinning at them in the night.

But here they were, still alive, and something about this guy made them believe they really could survive.

They were so naive.

The next hour felt like ten. The pain was growing but they were trying not to let it on, or lag too far behind. They kept him talking because his voice made it easier to keep moving. Despite what Darlin had said, he wasn’t going to leave them behind if they got too slow. He matched their pace. And they couldn’t exactly make him leave either. They tried to pick up the pace, but they weren’t moving fast enough.

And then Darlin felt it, something dead in the trees to their left. They looked just in time to make out the face of someone in those deep shadows. One of Quinn’s friends. She grinned at Darlin, flashing teeth, before disappearing. Fuck. She would go get Quinn. He would be here soon. He would be waiting for sundown.

“My phone should have a connection,” Huxley said, not having noticed the vampire. Darlin wouldn’t have either if they hadn’t bitten each other not ten hours ago. He dug the device out of his pocket and held it up, coming closer to their side as they kept walking. “Yeah. See? Do you want me to call the department?”

Darlin swallowed hard, shaking their head. “Department wouldn’t get here in time,” they said, reaching out for the phone. He didn’t say anything about their shaking hand when he put his phone in it, stepping back and then a few ahead to give them the illusion of privacy.

Darlin stared at the phone in their hand for a second before resigning themself to what they had to do. They dialled. It rang. And rang. And then he answered.

Darlin stopped walking, clutching the phone and hating the rise of emotions in their chest. “David… David, it’s—”

“I know who it is! Where the fuck are you? Whose phone is this?”

Darlin dragged a breath, closing their eyes. “I messed up. I-I know I don’t have any right to ask but…” It was so hard to get out. What if he just hung up? What if he told them to fuck off? They deserved it. They hadn’t been there for the pack, so why would the pack be there for them? They shouldn’t even ask. “David, I need help.”

The quiet on the other end was short but full of tension. “Where are you?” He wasn’t yelling or annoyed anymore.

They told him the trail they were on and what road they were heading for. “There’s this elemental…”

“Did they hurt you?”

“What? No. No. They’re helping. Quinn and these two other assholes pushed my car off the road last night and we fought. I…I ended up in the river and this guy pulled me out. He was just out here camping. But I…fuck…David, I don’t think we’re going to make it to the road by sundown and Quinn knows where we are. I don’t think I can protect this elemental. Fuck, I know I can’t. They’ll kill me but they’ll definitely kill him first. I’ve told him to make a run for it on his own, but he won’t.”

David was quiet for another second. No, not quiet, he was moving. They heard keys jangling. “Okay. We’re coming.”

Darlin sighed, so relieved that he was going to help that they almost fell over, having to open their eyes again for balance. The day was so fucking bright, their head aching and their vision blurry at the edges. They forced themself to start walking again, seeing Huxley up ahead waiting. “Thanks,” Darlin mumbled into the phone.

“Darlin,” David said, voice hard and clear, demanding their full attention. “We’re coming,” he said again.

Darlin nodded even though he couldn’t see. “Thanks, David.” They hung up. They had to do it right then or they might not be able to. They passed the phone back to Huxley when they reached him. “You shouldn’t wait for me. Just go.” They knew it was futile, but they had to try. They couldn’t take this guy with them to the grave. He didn’t deserve it.

“Did you call your pack?” Huxley asked to change the topic.

Darlin felt heat rising to their face. “Yeah. They’re coming. You’ll be okay.”

Huxley frowned but Darlin wasn’t sure why.

They were more than halfway there when Darlin started to really slow down, barely dragging their feet. He hovered close, a hand against their back. “You okay? Do you want to take a break?”

Darlin shook their head stubbornly, pressing on, but a few steps later they almost tripped. He had to catch their elbow to keep them up. The looked sick, sweaty, and unfocused. And then they leaned forward and he expected them to throw up, but instead they spit dark blood on the rocks. Huxley’s heart sank. He had both hands on them, helping them down to their knees and rubbing their back as they tried to catch their breath. It took what felt like a long time before they nodded and sat back, rubbing blood from their mouth with the back of their hand.

“Can I take a look?” Huxley asked, tentatively gesturing to their sweater—his sweater really, but he hadn’t pointed it out and they still had it on.

Darlin shrugged, eyes closing.

He gently lifted the hoodie, frowning at the thick splotches of bruising up and down their right side. Was something broken inside? He wished he knew how to fix that. They needed to get them out of this place. It was already afternoon. They only had another hour or so of direct light. “Can you walk?”

Darlin sighed, opening their eyes to look up at him. They looked tired but they smiled. Something about it made Huxley’s heart beat faster. “You did really good,” they said, breath still labored and words wet with pain. “But you need to go.”

Huxley stared.

“You need to go,” Darlin said again. “You don’t owe me anything and I promise, I’m not worth dying for.”

He could tell they believed that. “It’s not about what’s owed. If things were reversed, would you leave me out here?”

Darlin frowned.

He took off his backpack and dumped it. It was nothing that couldn’t be replaced and already he made a mental note of where they were on the trail to come back and get it later. He turned around, tugging one of their arms up over his shoulder. “Climb on.” He couldn’t exactly toss them over his shoulder with the bruises on their chest.

“You can’t be serious…”

He looked back at them, smiling despite the smear of blood on their mouth that made him really scared. “You’ve never had a piggyback before?”

Darlin’s eyes went big and he knew the answer was no.

Huxley laughed and tugged them into the right position, reaching back to grab their thighs and pull them around his hips. When he stood up, they flung their arms around his neck, leaning over his back and hanging on.

“Oh shit…” they exhaled in surprise.

Huxley started walking. “At least you managed the uphill part on your own. This will be no problem.” He tried not to jostle them too bad, but he picked up his pace from the crawl they’d been making before. “So, wolves don’t give each other piggybacks?” he asked, trying to get them to talk just to know they were still conscious.

Darlin slowly relaxed as much as they could into the position, hands on his shoulders and body leaned against his back. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“You don’t know? You didn’t grow up in your pack?”

“I did. Sort of… It’s complicated.”

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just, not really interesting. My parents were always loners at heart. They didn’t trust the pack. But it’s a good pack. They’re good people, we just didn’t fit with them, you know? My parents left when I was a teen.”

Huxley’s heart squeezed. They left? “You didn’t go with them?”

“No. The pack is good. I probably should have gone, it would have definitely been better for everyone else but… I don’t know. Instinct.” They shrugged against his back.

Huxley thought about that. It was hard to imagine parents just leaving. His moms would never have left him behind. They didn’t even like him living in Dahlia. Too far away. Too big. Too dangerous.

It was going to be awful telling them about this whole adventure. Although, in defense of living in the city, this danger had occurred out in nature.

“Misfit,” a voice sang out from the woods and Darlin jerked on his back. They would have put their legs down if he hadn’t kept his hold on their thighs. He didn’t slow down his pace. He could guess who that voice in the shadows of the trees nearby must be. Darlin breathed faster. They shook and curled an arm around his shoulders.

“You’ve got to put me down and run,” they whispered against the back of his neck. “Please.”

Huxley had realized they were scared of this vampire before, obviously, and he could see they had reason when he pulled them out of the river—but the way their voice shook was still shocking. This wolf was tough. They were a fighter. He could tell by their words and their actions, not to mention the scars he’d glimpsed all over their body. But whoever was in the woods following them, made them sound like a kid scared out of their mind.

“Damn it, Huxley,” they exhaled hard, tired. It was the first time they’d said his name. “I deserve it, I promise. You don’t. Just go home.”

Huxley kept walking.

He saw movement in the shadowy trees far to the left, slinking alongside them now. “Well, look at you,” the vampire sing-songed. “Misfit, I didn’t think you had any luck left but look at you… surviving that car crash without a broken bone, giving me the slip, surviving the river, and now a Good Samaritan? That’s got to be a record for you. But you know how it works, don’t you? Ups come with downs.”

Huxley kept walking.

“I’m tired, Elemental,” he called, voice sharper now. “Bring me what’s mine and I’ll let you live.”

Darlin twitched on his back, thighs tensing in his hands, like they expected him to drop them.

“They’re not worth your life, Good Samaritan! Look at them. They’re a fucking chew toy. My fucking chew toy. You’re really going to throw your whole life away for them?”

“Hux…” Darlin sighed.

At least he knew where they’d gotten all those shitty ideas of not being worth saving now.

“I’m going to put teeth in you, Good Samaritan,” the voice from the woods snarled. “I’m going to drain you, trance you, and then keep you around for weeks before I finally let you die.”

Darlin jerked on his back, head lifting and a growl rolling in their chest, against his spine. He felt them shudder, like they might try to shift. Huxley wasn’t sure what that would do to the damage inside their body right now. He rubbed his thumbs against the thighs he was holding, not letting go, not stopping his pace. “Shhh… You’re okay,” he whispered, head turning toward the shoulder Darlin had their temple dropped against and away from the woods with the vampire. “We’re okay.”

The vampire laughed. “You are so far from okay, Good Samaritan. My Misfit knows it.”

He felt them breathing faster against his back. “Blood Boy is stuck in the shade and he knows it,” he said, low and close because even if the vampire could hear him, he wasn’t talking to him. He was only talking to Darlin. “You got away last night, Darlin. I won’t let him get you now.”

Darlin was so tired and the pain in their side was making it hard to breathe, hard to stay awake. Quinn’s words were far away but they still cut through their mind, promising nightmares. They needed to get away from Huxley. They needed to shift and run the other way, lead Quinn far from the elemental.

But his big hands squeezed their thighs, grounding them right there where they were against his broad back. They didn’t have the energy to push off or run. Shame and fear curled in their chest. They were going to get this guy killed. And then his thumbs stroked lines back and forth against their thighs, through denim, into muscle. He turned his head toward theirs and they opened their eyes and saw him staring back. He shushed gently and promised they were okay. Darlin shivered. No one had ever said that to them. Not ever. Not anyone.

And he meant it. They could tell. Their heart hurt more and in a different way than it ever had before. They didn’t want Quinn to touch Huxley. They didn’t want him to hurt. They would rather die a thousand times than let teeth in his skin.

“If you put me down and leave, I’ll understand. I won’t be mad. I wouldn’t blame you,” Darlin whispered against the back of his shoulder. “Please.”

Huxley’s hands squeezed their thighs, always firm but never hurting. They would have liked to have known him in a different situation—in a place that wasn’t going to be their last. “You might not blame me for abandoning you, but I would blame me. I found you, and I’m going to make sure you get home.”

Darlin shivered again. They wouldn’t be able to protect him if the sun fell over the edges of the trees before they reached the car. They couldn’t even leave him to draw Quinn away at this point. The only hope they had, was that the pack would reach them in time. But it was such a long way to go, and Darlin had never been good at hoping.

They felt like they’d only closed their eyes for a second but when they opened them again, the sun was dropping close to the treetops to the west, the shadows stretching. Huxley was jogging. He had been for a while they realized. He slowed and finally stopped. “Fuck,” he exhaled, low and catching his breath.

Darlin lifted their head to look where he had been looking. The parking lot. They’d actually made it. But the shadows had beat them to the lone car there and Quinn was sitting on the hood, waiting with a huge grin.

Huxley nodded slowly, like it was a good move in a game they were playing. He took a step back, and then another. He was staying in the light while they still had it. It was a matter of minutes now.

Darlin tapped his shoulder. “Let me down.”

He did this time, hands on them, making sure they didn’t stumble but keeping an eye always on Quinn.

Darlin was glad their legs held.

“You afraid of small spaces, tough stuff?” Huxley asked conversationally. Why didn’t he sound scared? He should definitely sound scared.

“What? No. Why?” Fuck, their mouth tasted like blood already. They wouldn’t be able to hold Quinn off, let alone the two others that had to be somewhere nearby.

They took another step back, the shadows reaching. Quinn hadn’t moved from the car, just waiting and watching.

Huxley palmed their hip to nudge them right behind him again. “You can hang on if you need to, but just don’t move.”

Darlin already had a hand in the back of his t shirt. “What? What the fuck are you—”

Quinn was in front of them suddenly, less than a yard away from Huxley, right in that long shadow of a tree. “You should have given them up when you had a chance, Good Samaritan. No one takes my toys.”

Darlin twisted their fist in the back of his shirt. Digging down into their core for the power to shift one last time. But just before they could, they felt a tremor in the ground underfoot.

Huxley sighed, looking straight back at Quinn without flinching. “Dude. You can’t hunt me in my own element.” Before Quinn could open his mouth to say anything, and just as that shadow pushed forward to close the gap between them, the ground surged up and forward in a wave that shoved Quinn back, rolling him in upturned soil and rocks. The car in the lot bounced, the alarm going off.

Darlin had both hands in the back of Huxley’s shirt now. His core was singing. They realize suddenly he hadn’t used any magic all day. Was he saving it up? Resting for this?

The long shadows of dusk swallowed them whole. Quinn screamed rage when he started to claw his way out of the ground. Before Hux could even take a step toward the parking lot, the other two vampires were out of the woods and rushing them from either side. Another earthquake and the ground slid out from underneath one, landing them hard against a tree.

The third almost reached them. Quinn was on his feet. It was impressive, but it was a losing battle. There was no way—

The ground erupted in all directions, throwing the vampires high in a burst of soil and gravel. Huxley turned and scooped an arm around Darlin’s better side, practically lifting them when he bolted off the path and into the trees.

They couldn’t run away. There was nowhere to—The ground started to open up, roots curling back. At first it was steps down into the dark and then they were just sliding down. The temperature dropped and the light snuffed out. Darlin barely had time to realize what was happening before the ground closed above them, roots and stones slithering back through the soil to settle into place above and around them.

Darlin laid against his chest, listening to their hearts beating like thunder in the dark. “No way…” They reached out tentatively, touching the cold, packed soil on all sides of them. A grave. He’d buried them. “No fucking way…”

“Don’t freak out,” Huxley said gently, his hand flat to their back.

“I’m not,” they said, voice a little too strained to be believable.

“Do you want me to stop touching you? I can make more space and—”

“No, don’t. I mean…I can’t see anything, and you if stop it’d feel like…” Their heart beat faster. Like being alone. It would feel like they were alone in the dark in the ground and they’d be thinking about all the ground and rocks above them. And Quinn up there somewhere. He’d find them. He’d dig them out if he had to, or just wait. “How long can we hide here?”

Huxley shrugged in the dark, arms still around them. “Assuming you don’t panic?” There was a hint of a smile in his voice. “Two hours, maybe.”

Darlin sighed, nodding and resting their cheek to his shoulder again. It was so still and quiet in the ground. Just his heart beating and his lungs working. They thought they probably should have been panicking—they were buried, after all—but it was so calm. As absolutely fucked up as it was, it was the first time they ever considered they might be able to die peacefully. “Thank you,” Darlin whispered.

His hand stroked gentle but firm lines up and down their spine. “For what?”

Darlin closed their eyes before the tears could get out in the dark. “For not leaving me.”

Huxley sighed, face pressing to their temple. Did he kiss them?

They stayed there, quiet and drifting between awake and asleep for at least an hour. Huxley tensed and Darlin woke up fully. Before they could ask what was wrong, they heard it. Digging. Vampire speed and strength set against the ground.

It must have cost Huxley so much energy to do everything he’d already managed. How much could he have recovered in the time they’d been underground?

They wondered briefly if they could negotiate with Quinn. Darlin had never tried that before. Words were not their form of communication—they weren’t Quinn’s either. But they suddenly knew they’d be willing to trade anything for this guy’s safety. It was impossible to imagine they’d only met him that morning.

Soil started to rain in on them, forcing their eyes closed. It was a matter of seconds now. Darlin reached up suddenly, pushing an arm through the soft ground overhead, fingertips escaping, flicking air before a hand like stone wrapped around their wrist and jerked their whole body up and out so fast that Huxley’s grip had no time to tighten down.

Darlin came up from the ground—from the grave they’d wanted to stay in. They shifted before the vampire could even rejoice in their triumph of discovering them. It wasn’t Quinn. Things inside their body broke, they felt it and tasted their own blood fresh in their throat. They opened their jaws and snapped them shut over the bloodsucker’s face, chasing that taste with another, swallowing screams and tackling them back onto the forest floor.

Quinn laughed but the sound broke off when Darlin shook, snapping that neck before letting go. They growled, blood on their teeth and dirt in their fur.

The third vampire rushed for them, fury on his lips at the death of his friend. Before he could reach them, the ground jerked him underneath, dragging him deep and keeping him.

Quinn’s eyes went wide in a flash of fear Darlin had never seen before. But then he was a blur of movement, skirting the soft soil they’d ripped up and catching Darlin from the side, dragging them away. They lost their grip on their wolf and shifted back to human along the way. They very nearly lost consciousness too. They realized suddenly that Quinn had pulled them to packed ground, to the parking lot, to a patch of concrete before letting go.

A howl cut the night, following by the echo of others.

Quinn’s attention jerked away, toward the sound. He was surprised. His plans had gone to shit. His game was turning in a way he had not expected.

Darlin laughed, sitting up on the pavement under a sky slowly filling with stars.

His attention snapped back to them with a hateful snarl and then he was on them, pinning them to the hard ground, thumb stroking their jugular almost affectionately. “You shouldn’t have made this such a mess, Misfit…”

“So, it’s my fault?” Another howl. Closer. They definitely knew where they were. The ground rumbled again. The concrete cracked under Darlin’s back. They distantly wished Huxley would pull them back down into the ground with him. “If you run now, you might get away.”

Quinn hissed, teeth long and his gaze on their throat. No. He wasn’t going to run. Darlin tried not to cry. They wouldn’t beg. Their whole body thrummed with pain. At least he wouldn’t get to Huxley. David would show up before that could happen. “If you kill me, they’ll hunt you down,” they tried, voice cold. They were suddenly grateful for the exhaustion that made their voice so flat, because it hid all of their uncertainty. Would the pack really bother to hunt him down? Probably not. But the idea might be enough to make him go. Quinn had always been a live to fight another day sort of asshole.

He grabbed the back of their hair and jerked their head and shoulders up, twisting to expose their neck. Darlin growled and grabbed at his arms, trying to pry them off. His lips touched their neck and they kicked at the ground, gasping for air, trying to calm themself with the memory of the grave—of that cold calm place in his warm arms. Teeth slid into their throat, there for a split second and then gone. All of him was gone and they were rolling on the ground, landing chest down.

They gasped for air, looking up to watch the wolf tackling Quinn. Asher. A second jumped over Darlin an instant later, lunging for the vampire before he could get a grip on Asher.

Darlin flinched when hands were on them, but instead of pulling or hitting, they were gently rolling them onto their back. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, dude,” that familiar deep voice said. “Oh shit,” he exhaled when his gaze caught on their neck. He pulled his shirt off and pressed it to the wound.

Cars were arriving, lights flashing over them. The wolves howled when Quinn died.

Huxley didn’t seem to notice any of it, all of his attention on them.

Darlin sighed, touching his arm. “It’s not that bad,” they said, but the sounds were slurred and their vision blurring at the edges. Oh shit. Maybe they were wrong.

Another figure joined Huxley and they both jerked in surprise.

“Let me see,” Stealth said, reaching for the shirt Huxley was holding.

Darlin smirked, wanting to make a joke about whether they couldn’t just wait for Marie or even a human doctor to put stitches in them rather than let Stealth do a hackjob of a healing. But the words didn’t come out. They saw the shirt when Stealth took it away. It was soaked through and glinting black in the moonlight. Shit. Quinn had gone for the kill. That shouldn’t have surprised them, shouldn’t have stung—but it did. Huxley’s big hand gently palmed their hair back from their face. “Hang on,” he pleaded.

Darlin stared at him, surprised. They actually wanted to.

Their eyes rolled back in pain when Stealth used magic to stitch their neck back together.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry,” Stealth said but didn’t waver. Darlin had never appreciated them more. They’d always been good at that—at knowing what needed to be done and doing it no matter what. Their bloody hands traveled down Darlin’s torso, swearing under their breath when they looked at their side. Another wave of pain and magic and Darlin finally blacked out.

When they woke up again, they were in a truck. More specifically, in the passenger seat, alone, outside a house. They took a couple deep breaths, trying to wake up fully. It was David’s truck. The scent was both calming and setting their nerves on fire. They never really knew where they stood with him. Generally, they just tried to stay out of his sight and hopefully off his radar. They supposed that tactic had officially gone to shit tonight.

The door popped open and Darlin sat up. One glance at David standing beside the truck in the open door and they looked away again, down. Fuck. Where to start? Apologies or thank yous? “Is the elemental, okay?”

David huffed once, affirmative.

Darlin sighed and nodded. “Thanks, for coming. He was tougher than I thought but… I didn’t mean to get him mixed up in my shit. I’m sorry—”

David growled and they stopped talking, biting into their cheek

“Let’s get something clear,” he said.

Darlin winced but waited.

“You think we only came out there to save you because of the elemental that was in danger too. And yes, we would have come out there to save him, but we would go anywhere for just you. I would go anywhere to save you, Darlin. You’re family. We love you.”

Darlin had stared up at him somewhere in that surprising string of words.

“Are you ready to go inside and tell them this whole insane story?”

Darlin blinked. “Who?” The Department? Did they need to make a statement? It wasn’t their fault, couldn’t be, but still they worried it was. But this wasn’t an office building. This looked like a house near the woods. “Where are we?”

David’s expression softened, almost looking hurt. It took him a second to find words, sighing when he did and stepping back, clearly waiting for them to get out of the truck. “It’s my house, Darlin. A bunch of the pack followed us back. They want to hear your story and they’ll probably tell you theirs about what happened when you were down. Asher already ordered food and seems to have become best friends with your elemental.”

“Not mine…” Darlin mumbled automatically but got out of the truck. Huxley was inside? David closed the truck door and then slid his hand over the back of their neck. The squeeze was light but it sent a wave of relief through their body, followed by unfamiliar comfort when he mussed up their hair and then pushed them ahead of him toward the house. There was laughter inside. A part of them wanted to stop and turn back. They wanted it too much, afraid of ruining it if they even got close. But David didn’t let them waver, nudging them right up the porch to the front door.

#redactedverse #redacted asmr #darlin/huxley #darlin&david #quinn is a monster but you should know that by now #DANGER #survival situation #darlin has problems #huxley is a fucking meal #<3 #dominimoonbeam #fanfic

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momentomori24 · 2 months

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I swear to God, Twitter being able to accumulate so many brain-dead, malicious, pseudo intellectual low lives all in one place at the same time is a phenomenon worthy of being studied under a microscope in a science lab. And no, that is not a compliment.

Thankfully people have already spoken out against this bullshit-- the fact that people needed to is already maddening to think about-- but as someone who got the basic gist of what happened literally yesterday I'll also put my voice out there: Don't you fucking dare try to paint Hbomb as a murderer over this situation.

Somerton may be a lying, misogynistic plagiarist and conman, but he obviously doesn't deserve to die and while I do make fun of the guy, I genuinely hope that he continues to have a life after the dust has settled on everything. Not on YouTube or any social media platform for a long time at least, but just a life nontheless. I don't wish what he's potentially going through on anyone, and I hope that he makes it through this. But regardless of if he does or doesn't-- and God forbid he doesn't-- none of this is Hbomb's fault. It's not his fault, or Kat's fault, or Jessie's fault (because apparently there's people blaming her too cuz WHY NOT), or anybody's fault. All they did was call out his actions, hold him accountable for the harm he's done. They have done nothing to deserve having to carry this on their shoulders should the worst happen. They did nothing wrong. They didn't kill James (he's not confirmed dead yet either btw). They are not murderers. And to the people saying they are: say those words out loud, listen how they sound like, and re-evaluate. Just cease.

And to people like this:

''Oh I'm not blaming him for anything I'm just blaming him for what his audience did because according to HIM you're responsible for your audience'' Yeah, you people can shut your mouths too. Of course you're responsible for your audience, and that includes Hbomb too. However, your tiny, godless little monkey brain can't see why your argument is still rubbish even with that in mind. The difference between James, Internet Historian and Hbomb is that Hbomb never promoted problematic behaviour to his audience. If you promote problematic shit like harassment or misogyny or racism, then yeah, you're absolutely responsible for how your behaviour influences your audience. But that's not what he did. He made it very clear where he stood on those things, literally stating that ''if anyone were to harass Somerton on his behalf they are worse than him and will not see the light of heaven''. He's done his part in making it clear that harassment is wrong, so if someone went out of their way to go against that and harass James anyway that doesn't reflecf on him at all. Also, what the hell do you mean ''hatemobbed'' to suicide? I don't doubt there are people who went to extremes because those bad apples always exist, but most of the things I've seen are valid critisisms, memes and call outs about that guy. If holding people accountable for their actions and poking fun at them a little counts as 'hatemobbing'' (which has Filip calling his critics a ''lynch mob'' energy tbh) what the hell do you call actual hatemobbing then? Do we just let people continue being shitty because calling them out ''damages their mental health'' or ''drives them to suicide'' then? Is that a world you want to live in?

Same thing goes for people like this:

Criticing someone for their objectively bullshit content and wanting them dead are two seperate things. What the actual hell is wrong with you. The plagiarist in question is a person. Those ''harshest critics'' are still people. And because we're people, we care. I'd rather James pump out more plagiarised slop than commit suicide. I'd still hate him for it, but I'd prefer him being alive over the alternative any day. We all do. None of us would sleep easier knowing he's dead just because he wouldn't be ''committing the cardinal sin of putting out a 'pure content mill' video'' because someone taking their own life is horrific-- especially Hbomberguy, how dare you even try to imply that?

And this gets me to the reason I'm furiously typing all this out in the first place: Hbomb is the fucking victim here, so stop treating him like he isn't. He tried making things as right as possible by compensating those that were burned by James through a video where he revealed everything there needs to be known about the guy so that less people fall victim to his actions and lies. To just ignore the harm James was causing while he had the evidence to prove it and platform too big to threaten into non existence should he speak out would've been bad. So he didn't. He did the right thing by sticking with the people James had stolen from, giving them a voice and making them known after they've been scrubbed from the picture by decidedly being uncredited for their works or bullied into silence. He shouldn't have to deal with this for doing the right thing. He shouldn't be labelled a murderer for doing the right thing. He shouldn't have to have the death of a man on his conscience for doing the right thing. People claiming otherwise are obviously wrong, but I can't imagine what all this must feel like right now. Because even tho they're wrong, guilt isn't a rational thing, and I know that if I were in his position I'd still feel like a morally bankrupt individual were the worst to happen even if I knew that it was not my fault. This isn't a funny story. So to add to this dumpsterfire by using it as a prop to bash on a creator you don't like and immediately write Somerton off as dead even when he's not even been confirmed dead yet to do that shows how little these people actually care about the thing they're talking about. They don't care a guy potentially killed himself-- what they care about is using it to paint Hbomb in a bad light because they don't like him. Here they are, posting memes and ill jokes about this very delicate situation while barely a day since the news broke out had passed. It's opportunistic, it's sickening, and literally the exact thing he criticised in his video when talking about 'content mills'. Like, I know none of these clowns bothered to actually watch it, but have some self-awareness. And some shame too, while you're at it.

This long story short: I'm writing this to contribute to the narrative not getting twisted to make Hbomb out to be the villian. Same goes for everyone else. Don't let these people paint them as the villians. If I see another person pull this shit again I will literally bite you and shred you into salad and spit you back out because I hate you so much and I mean that wholeheartedly.

To Hbomb: you will never see this but if you do, take care of yourself.

To the asshats this post is about: Delete your account. Cease all together. Stop talking about this. Just leave him the fuck alone.

#hbomberguy #james somerton #this post took me ages to finish and really grinds my gears #i would not survive on that hellscape with people like this holy shit #really hope this situation turns out for the best #i wrote this while i was frustrated and sleep deprived so apologies for unnoticed grammar i'll correct it later #i'll be keeping my eyes peeled for any updates on this situation this is actually getting scary

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