Kicking My Legs - Blog Posts

I ACTUALLY ATE THIS UP LIKE FUCKING MAC & CHEASE WHAT THE FJHVBADFIPJBAEFVJBAF

so, i was thinking about tate fitting into the yandere trope (more than he already does lol) and being extremely obsessed with reader and when he decides to tell her about his feelings she tells him she's already in love with someone else. tate doesn't accept that, cause if he cant have her, nobody else cant

oh, i had fun with this one. hope you like it :)

~~~

His Obsession

Tate Langdon x f!reader

warnings: murder, torture, hints of smut, hints of suicide, stalking, very bad obsession (as the title says lol), abusive relationship, manipulation, idk what else

summary: since the moment he saw you moving in, tate knew you were going to be his. no matter what.

word count: 2.5k

~~~

Tate watches as you flip through the pages of your magazine. You’re lying on your bed, music blasting in your ears. Even if he was visible to you, he doubts you’d even know he’s there. You’re too busy looking at pictures of clothes and celebrities. You hum along to the song playing, your voice soft like velvet. What once made his invisible heart race now makes him sick. He feels a tear roll down his cheek as he watches you. How can you be so content? How?

He’s been watching you for months, half of it without your knowledge. He knew the second he saw you moving in with your family he needed to have you. He remembers watching you unpack boxes, making what used to be his room now yours. Within the first week of you being there, he warned every other ghost in the house to stay away. You are his, only his.

The first time he revealed himself to you, he pretended to be the boy next door. He remembers the look on your face as if it were yesterday. You stared at him with a look that made him almost feel as though he were alive again. It was like heaven. You let him hang out with you in your room, the connection between the two of you forming immediately. He remembers how easily you opened up to him, and how within only a week you wanted to be his friend. It went just as he planned.

On Halloween he took you out to the beach, it was the best night of his life. He often thinks back to how that night went. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore as you opened your legs for him for the first time. You were so willing, it almost made him angry. But he knew it must’ve been hard to resist him for that month before Halloween, so he gave you a pass on it.

He remembers everything about that night. The way you told him he was the sweetest boy you’ve ever met, the way you looked at him as though he was the only boy in the world. Even though he was the one who kissed you, you didn’t object for one second. In fact, you were the one who laid back on the towel and started to slide your pants off. He remembers how gentle he was with you, how he almost let it slip that he was in love with you. The way you made him feel that night was a feeling he never felt before in life or death. You were so warm, so tight. He could barely contain himself. It was everything he had dreamed of and more.

After that night, his obsession only grew. Suddenly, almost every time the two of you saw each other, you had sex. He thought you were in love with him too, so he let it happen. At least, that’s what he tells himself. Each time you came on to him, he felt like he was floating. You wanted him. You wanted him to do things to you that were special, that made two people as close as they could be. It felt like an honor.

“Oh Tate,” you’d moan. “You’re perfect.”

He would look at you, no matter what position, and think about how lucky he was to be with you. You were the girl of his dreams, his obsessions. He loved you more than anyone. If he could, he would die for you, he would kill for you. Both without a second thought. Even now, he still would.

Right now, he wipes the tear that fell down his cheek and reveals himself. He walks over to you, tapping you lightly. You flinch, but once you realize it’s him you smile and take off your headphones, patting the spot next to you on the bed for him to lay.

“Have you been here long?” You ask.

Tate shakes his head and gets onto your bed. “No, not really.”

“Oh, that’s good. All I’ve done today is be lazy. I actually thought about calling you but then my mom gave me this to read,” you say. You turn your head and he watches as you really look at his face. “Were you crying?”

“No, just allergies,” he lies.

“Are you sure?”

He nods. “I uh just came here to talk about what you said last time we saw each other.”

“Yeah...” you say, your smile disappearing. “I’m really sorry for that, I just thought you should know about him.”

“Who is he?” Tate asks. He doesn’t know whether he wants to cry or kill somebody. Perhaps he wants both.

“Just a guy from one of my classes. I don’t really know how it happened, we just clicked. Don’t think this means I don’t want to stop talking though Tate, of course I still want to see you. I just think we should strictly only be friends, nothing like what we were doing,” you answer.

Tate scoffs. “What we were? I thought we were in love, I thought you were my girlfriend. You told me you loved me.”

“And I do love you Tate, just not in the way you love me. You’re like my best friend, of course I have love for you,” you reply, only making the anger build inside him.

“You don’t hook up with your best friend,” he says. He stands up, his anger taking control. He runs his hands through his hair, he needs to calm down. “You told me you needed me. You told me I was your perfect boy. How is that friendly?”

You sit up, looking ashamed. “I don’t know. Maybe I thought I was in love with you but then I met Jake.”

Tate takes a deep breath before climbing back on the bed and taking your hands in his. You look him in the eye, guilt all over your face. He can’t help but want to kiss you. He wants all of this to be some sick joke, he wants you to take it back. How could you have him convinced the two of you were in love for months then one day say that’s never what it was? How could a person do that? More specifically though, how could you do that to him?

“I’m sorry Tate,” you mumble. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“So, take it back y/n, forget about this guy and stay with me. I want you to be mine, forever, I can’t ever just be your friend,” he replies.

You shake your head, tears forming in your eyes. “That can’t happen, it would never work out.”

“Yes, it would. Y/n, I will never let anyone, or anything hurt you, I’ll love you till the end of time I swear,” he argues. He lifts one of his hands and gently wipes a tear from your face. “Please.”

“Tate...” you whisper.

He doesn’t think before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. He needs this, even if it’s the last time it ever happens. It’s no surprise that you don’t push him away, he knows you can’t help yourself either. Your lips move slowly against his. Both of you are crying now, your tears mix. But after only a few minutes he pulls away.

“You want me too, you know you do deep down,” he mumbles.

“It wouldn’t work, we’re not a good fit.”

“Your mind has been poisoned by that other guy; did you tell him about me?”

You nod.

“He just wants to turn you against me, he’s jealous of what we have,” Tate whispers.

His eyes are soft, tears still streaming down his face. He almost lets out a sob when you reach out and touch his face. Your sweet hands could never hurt a fly. He wraps his arms around you and pulls your body against his in a hug. It’s comforting, he loves how warm you are. He can hear your heart beat, it’s beautiful. He lies the two of you back down on the bed, his head resting on your chest.

“I can’t keep fighting without you,” he says.

“I know,” you reply. You move your fingers through his blond curls, he feels at peace.

“You make the bad thoughts go away, you make me feel normal,” he continues in a soft tone. “If you leave me, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

He looks up at you and sees how hard you’re trying not to cry. It pains him. He moves on top of you, his face hovering over yours. Your eyes are full of so many emotions, Tate can’t read them all. He leans down once again and kisses you. There are so many emotions flowing through the both of you and they all come out in this kiss. But this time, it becomes more than just a kiss.

Soon enough the two of you are doing what you do best, and even though he’s hurt Tate still can’t get enough of it. He slides inside of you gently, just like the first time. You drag your fingernails across his back, your head thrown back. Tate loves the expressions that form on your face, so fucking pretty.

He leans his head down so his lips are right next to your ear and whispers under his breath, “No one will ever make you feel as good as this, never.”

You don’t reply.

~~~

The first day you bring that guy over Tate watches darkly from the shadows. He hears what you say to him, the same things you used to say when the two of you were together. It makes him sick. He thought you changed your mind, but the day after everything went down you went back to your previous choice. You want Jake, not Tate. But he’s not going to let that happen.

When he goes to use the bathroom Tate strikes. He knocks him out with one swift blow to the head and drags his body down the stairs and into the basement. He ties him up in a chair and takes his phone, quickly texting you saying he had to go home early. Tate knows you won’t go down into the basement; it’s always scared you. He’s glad.

The guy, Jake, wakes up after ten minutes. He starts screaming, but his mouth is duct taped shut. He wiggles in the chair, it amuses Tate. He moves so fast the chair almost falls over, that’s when Tate emerges from the shadows. Jake stares at him, his eyes wide.

“I bet you’re wondering why you’re here right now,” Tate starts, Jake tries to rip out of the duct tape. “I can understand wanting her, I want her too. She’s the prettiest, sweetest, most wonderful girl I think either of us will ever know.”

He walks close to Jake, his dark eyes locked on him. “Only one of us can have her though and it’s going to be me. You see, once she starts to realize you aren’t returning her calls anymore, she’s going to be upset, and she’ll run back to me so fast you’ll just be a bad memory.”

Jake squirms in the chair as Tate walks back into the darkness. He returns within seconds though, a bloody stained hammer in his hand. The boy in the chair screams into the duct tape, it almost makes Tate smile. He walks to him again, stopping only a foot away.

“She’s mine, and you’re going to die with that thought in your head.”

With that, Tate starts to smash the hammer into the other boy's head, the sound of his skull cracking like music to his ears. He doesn’t go too hard though, no. He wants him to suffer. He smashes his kneecaps, his elbows, all while the poor boy is still alive. But when he gets too close to being dead Tate stops and drags his body outside, being careful so you won’t see. He throws the boy's body over the fence into Constance's yard, his spirit won’t even be able to reach you.

After he’s done, he cleans himself up and returns into the house, a smirk on his lips. You’re his again, he knows it.

~~~

“Tate, can I ask you something,” you speak.

The two of you are in your bed again, you’re lying on his chest. It’s been a week since he killed your boyfriend, and so far, he thinks he’s gotten away with it. The boy’s face was too mutilated to identify at first sight, and besides that Tate hasn’t heard his identification on the news or from you. He thinks it may be his perfect crime.

“Anything,” he says after a few seconds.

You sit up, covering your chest with the blanket. You look nervous. “Um, I know this may sound crazy but, did you kill Jake?”

“What?” Tate replies. How did you find out?

“That body in Constance’s yard, it was Jake,” you answer.

“Why would you assume it was me? Of course, I didn’t kill him that would be crazy,” he lies, pretending to be offended at your accusation.

“You were the only one who had a problem with him Tate, and you live right near my house. Listen I won’t- I won’t turn you in just tell me the truth,” you explain.

Tate sits up too and looks you in the eye. “Why does it matter? You’re back with me y/n, and since he’s been gone there haven’t been any issues between us. I thought you were happy.”

You scoff and get out of bed. “Tate you killed an innocent boy!”

“So what? We are happier without him; we are happier together. Whether I killed him or not those are the facts.”

“Are you serious?” You ask, a horrified expression on your face. “Did you do this so I would fuck you again?”

“No!” he exclaims, getting out of bed on the other side. “I did it so we could be together, I did it because I love you y/n. I love you way more than that jerk ever could.”

You pull on a t-shirt and underwear before heading toward the door. “This can’t be happening.”

Tate quickly pulls on his boxers and follows you. You’re about to open the door but he slams it shut with his hand. He towers over you from behind. He can see your hands are shaking, you’re afraid of him. He can’t have that.

“I’m not going to hurt you y/n, I would never hurt you,” he says softly.

“You’re a killer.”

“You love me, and deep down you’ve known what I’m capable of.”

You begin to cry. “How could I have been so stupid?”

“You aren’t stupid,” he tries to comfort you. He wraps his arms around your torso in a tight hug.

“Yes, I am, I fell in love with a monster,” you mumble.

Tate holds you close, his lips kissing the top of your head. It’s all coming together, he thinks. He knows you’re going to kill yourself soon, you can’t handle this. Once you’re dead he’ll finally be able to tell you the truth of this house. But by then you won’t be able to get out.

If he can’t have you, no one else will.

~~

a/n:

why did i just realize this can kinda be a prequel to a cruel punishment???

Illuminated

pairing: dabi/hawks

tags: first kiss, realisation of feelings

wordcount: 1.1k

They sat on that rooftop again. The highest in the area, but still way below the clouds. Neither the overworked salesmen doing overtime in their glass offices nor the potential hero flying to the next emergency site were able to spot them here. Traffic noise was floating up from the streets beneath, but it was a comparatively quiet spot. Perfect for talks of treachery and corruption.

It was also much easier to reach than old warehouses cramped between buildings and infrastructure, at least if you came from above. How Dabi made it up all those stories without raising suspicion was a mystery to Keigo, one of many.

Regardless of what the HPSC’s tasks asked of him, his personal mission was to uncover each and every mystery surrounding Dabi. When his goal had shifted in this direction he didn’t know, but something about the man intrigued him. The more time spent with him and the more information he slowly gathered, the more he became invested in solving this puzzle.

And as much as he tried to convince himself otherwise, for his own conscience, he knew this was not about his identity or his connection to the League of Villains or anything else that might be relevant for the greater good. No, this was purely self-indulgent. He’d give more for Dabi’s morning routine than his real name at this point.

Looking at him now, while they argued about adjusting the phrasing of a report, he wondered if he would ever be sick of learning more about him.

The topics they wanted to discuss that night ran out, so it was time for Keigo to bring his small talk training to use and make Dabi stay regardless. The longer their conversation lasted, the later he had to return to his empty apartment. Every minute spent with Dabi was valuable.

“It seems you’re not very fond of the way I handle things with the Commission,” he said.

Dabi pulled the USB drive with the fake paperwork out of his laptop. “You’re too vague. Even an idiot like Twice could figure out that those reports are bullshit. If you want to meet the boss, you need to get your shit together and stop jeopardising your own spy work.”

He tossed Keigo the drive, eyes not leaving the screen. There was precision in a lot of his movements that indicated professional heroics training. That acute awareness of his surroundings was familiar to Keigo. It was these tiny details he tried to pick up on, since Dabi did his best to stay as mysterious as possible. They’d shared a meal countless times and Keigo always had to rely on body language to see if he liked the food or not, because he refused to share facts about himself. It would annoy him if he weren’t so fascinated.

Dabi tried to pack up his stuff, but Keigo managed to engage him with irrelevant hero gossip. This was yet another thing he’d noticed: Dabi was unusually informed about the inner workings of the industry. He supposed this was all relevant information he should report back to the Commission, but something told him to keep it to himself. After all, they were sitting here, just the two of them, chatting without any obvious ulterior motives. It had taken a lot of time and building trust to get to this point, and Keigo wouldn’t waste it by ratting Dabi out.

He proved this decision to himself by making an off-hand comment about something Best Jeanist had worn at an event once. It was a pretty stupid joke, but suddenly Dabi was laughing, clear and full of joy. For such a deep and raspy voice, his laughter was surprisingly melodic. Keigo couldn’t do anything but stare at him, the city lights illuminating his beautiful side profile.

After a few seconds, Dabi seemed to notice him watching and turned around. Those intoxicating blue eyes were scanning Keigo’s face and Dabi’s expression became serious. Keigo didn’t dare to breathe, unsure what to make of this mood shift and the deliciously anxious feeling in his chest. Then Dabi’s eyes flickered to his lips. Keigo felt heat rush to his cheeks and his heart rate was increasing with every second they spent staring at each other.

Then, unsure, they both inched their faces closer together and before Keigo could process it their lips were touching.

It didn’t last long though, because Dabi pulled away before he even had a chance to press into it. He tried to regain his composure while Dabi stared at him, wide-eyed. His chest was moving at a rapid pace, the rest of him remaining rigid. For as long as Keigo had been studying him, he’d never seen him like this. Almost like he was…scared.

Now worried himself, he tried extending a hand in a weird way of offering comfort, but Dabi snapped out of it and slapped him away. “What the fuck,” he whispered and Keigo was unsure if he was even talking to him. This “kiss” must’ve upset him for some reason.

Keigo was unsure what to make of it too. It certainly hadn’t been what he imagined under getting to know Dabi, but it explained his fascination. Has he had a crush this entire time?

Before he had a chance to dwell on this revelation, Dabi suddenly sat down right in front of him, hand on Keigo’s thigh. His mouth stood open in surprise and Dabi closed it, putting his other hand on his jaw. Blue eyes were piercing into his.

“Listen, hero.” His voice, full of determination, faltered for a moment. “I have no idea what I’m doing. It’s not like anyone was ever dying to kiss me.” Keigo wanted to add something but Dabi’s grip on his face tightened. “Stop that. I don’t want you pitying me. Just…I warned you, so don’t be disappointed.”

Dabi leaned in and this time, Keigo was a lot less awkward about it. He tilted his head, pressing into the kiss without second thought. His enthusiasm seemed to reassure Dabi, who relaxed after the first few seconds, self-doubt forgotten.

Keigo’s hands found his waist as they pulled each other closer together. Kissing Dabi was addicting. It made Keigo feel like was burning up, in a good way. He should’ve realised much sooner that this was what he’d been craving all along.

The contrasting textures of his lips, the taste of him, the gentleness in his touch - Keigo added all of it to his mental list of things he knew about A-rank villain Dabi. After a lifetime of reporting and documenting his every move, it was thrilling to have information solely for himself. No one else knew Dabi like this. And with every new fact he discovered, he grew more certain that he would never get tired of learning about him.

i reallyyyyyyyy like zuko

ain't this neat...

What 3 months of artblock has done to me

I woke up yo this and Im very happy right now

Little Voices

tw: blood, impalement, scars, amputation, sharp objects

Chapter 8: The Adventurer

(This voice does not sound happy)

A knight is on a path in the woods. And at the end of the path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is an adventurer.

He, the barbarian, and the doctor stood on the porch.

"So," the doctor meekly perked up. "You just walk around and search for anyone in every cabin?"

"That's the plan," the knight replied.

"... Aren't you... Worried?" The doctor raised his eye brow. "Any one of these cabins might have been just normal cabins with people living in it and you'll just be rudely waltzing in, but...

I don't know- maybe, that would be more out of place than it already is."

"Well, we don't need any of those what-ifs, doc," the barbarian said, even mockingly. "We're here to get everyone out of here. And maybe find whoever trap us here and show them our wrath," he grinned.

"I'm not sure about the wrath thing, but he's right," the knight reached for the knob and turns it open. "Let's just go inside and get the prisoner-"

"The what?!"

The knight flinched, the doctor yelped and the barbarian threw his hand in front of him as a voice suddenly shouts as they opened the door.

The inside is a mess of warped and bent wooden boards, with some of their splintered edges poking out. Actually, they're not wood upon seeing the shine on them. They're sharp, bent metal boards designed like they're wooden. It's just a bent table and shattered windows here. Oh, and of course the mirror is the only intact object here.

"O-oh," That's new. The knight looked back and asked the two softly, "I'm not the only who heard a voice, am I-"

They didn't get to answer when they heard muffled screams of someone furiously fighting against what sounded like chains on them, the sound bouncing all over the walls, making it louder than it should be.

Well, they found the prisoner and he doesn't sound very happy. His nasally high voice runs through the battered door,

"Hey!

I don't know who you are, but you're not going to keep me down here forever!

I'll break these chains before these blades get to me, you hear?!"

Blades?

"What do we do? What do we do?!" The doctor whispered in a panic as he cowers out of the doorframe. But the barbarian cackled, "Ooh, he's feisty. I like him.

Now don't just stand there! Say something!"

The barbarian yelled at the knight, who has to recoil and recover from the loud noises. Since he has the most protection on him, the knight steps in and shouted back,

"Hey! Calm down- We're not your guards! We're not gonna hurt you!"

The unseen prisoner below slowly stopped his struggles and has to take a few breaths from all of that. That seemed to do the trick.

"You're," he wheezed from the exhaustion. "You're not?"

"No, we're here to help you! We were trapped in our prison cells too!"

"Not. Helping," the doctor muttered under his breath.

"Oh, really?" The prisoner yelled back in retaliation. "How would I know you're not lying? How would I know that you're not going to do something to me if you get here?"

He's doubting already. The knight could've seen that coming, to be fair. But he never expected that someone would hear him up here this time.

"We're not," the knight called back. "We're just trying to help. You just have to trust us!"

"Him," the barbarian corrected, which confused the knight. "Excuse his shit wording and pipsqueak voice, he's a better people talker than the rest of us. Not that it's a strength we need or anything. Grk- Point is, just let him help before his head explodes."

Thanks. That is very rude.

"Oh! You want me to trust him then? You want to help for the sake of humanity?" The prisoner raised his voice like it's the stupidest idea he heard all day, even mocking at the last question. The chains jingled violently as he shouted, "Then stop fucking around and Get. Me. Out of Here!"

Okay. He's more rude than the barbarian. The doctor cleared his throat and he sternly asked,

"What's the magic word?"

"... What?!"

"The Magic. Word."

"Not now," the knight sighed. He really needs to save the prisoner already if the basement is that bad and this is not helping.

"Look," the doctor whispered. "I am all for helping the helpless, but if I were you, I would not tolerate such foul bickering from the likes of him. I could barely contain myself with Mr. Businessman back there."

"He has a point," the barbarian said. "Is that how I sounded like when you first met me?"

"A little. At least you have some faith."

"Yeah," the barbarian chuckled. "Even if for a little twig like you-"

"You know I can hear you, right?" The voice calls out, a little softer this time. And he sighed,

"Just get me out of here. Please?"

"Much better," the doctor sighed. "I think... That's your cue."

The knight nodded and stepped forward. But as he walked up the door, there's something on the table he had never seen before.

A golden key.

The knight just stared at it. So did the doctor. So did the barbarian.

"Was... Was there a key where we left off?"

"Don't ask me," the barbarian whined. "I barely notice the room!'

"N-no, I don't think so," the doctor said.

"You have the key? That's perfect!" The voice perked up below. Yeah, it should be a good thing, but... There was never a key in anyone's room. Not even placed on their tables.

"Well?"

The knight looked at the door.... Hesitating.

"Should we tell him?" The knight asked. This is weird. This doesn't make sense.

"Tell me what? What now?" The voice called out.

"Hey. You're the decision-maker around here. You decide-"

"Obviously!" The doctor cuts off the barbarian. "Who wants to be kept in the dark in a place like this?"

"Thank you!" The prisoner below groaned. The knight pinches the bridge of his nose.

He is surrounded by loud bickering.

"Look, just spit it out already, alright? What the hell is going on?" The prisoner asked, almost begging for answers. Right, he's telling him,

"You're in a basement of a cabin. We were all trapped in our own basements in other cabins. Different than the last. There... There was never a key for us in those cabins, so that's why we were so confused!"

"... What?" The prisoner asked in shock. "Wait- Were you in chains?"

"Yes," the three answered in unison.

"Without a key to use?"

"We had to break some chains and maybe our arms to get out," the barbarian said proudly, despite the grimace of the other two.

"Were those "cabins", by any chance, trying to kill you?"

That's an odd question with an oddly convenient answers,

"There were... E-eyes and-and arms eventually?"

"Mine tries to bury us alive. Sucker."

"... I know mine wasn't that bad, but it was still a terrible place to wake up in."

"... Shit," the prisoner can be heard almost whispered. The knight shook his head and swiped the key as he walked back to the door,

"I'll explain later- I'm coming down-"

"Knight," the barbarian teethed.

"Just stay put! You'll get out of here!" The knight tries the key on the doorknob. It doesn't fit. This is definitely the key for the clamp.

"Hurry!" The prisoner yelled. But the doctor stopped him,

"What are you doing?! This isn't right! What if it's a trap-"

"It's fine-" the knight turned the knob open, "It's going to be fine- Aah!" And he tripped on a protruding sheet of metal. The two watched as the knight tumbled down a warped, jagged, spiral set of metal stairs, along with the prisoner's surprised shout, before he disappears out of view.

The barbarian attempts to rush in, only to be met with blades sprouting from the walls of the stairwell. He and the doctor jumped back as they suddenly spread out of the door, stopping in the middle of the room. The doctor froze in fear but the barbarian pushed himself off the floor and barrels towards the blades.

----

The barbarian is thrown out of the cabin and onto the ground. He hissed in pain as he tries to get up. But he sees a stump of his right arm... And his right foot. He glanced to see exactly those hand and feet, intact but broken off like a statue. That's... Not good.

He disregards his injured body as he whips his head to the scream from the cabin. The doctor.

Thankfully, the doctor can be seen scrambling out of the door, a shard of metal embedded into his melting arm. The barbarian watched as the doctor stumbles down, ripping the shard out with a gasp, and throws it away to hold his arm.

For him, he can't tell if he's bleeding but the pain eventually goes away. Is that... A good thing? Whatever. The doctor turned and gasped at the barbarian trying to attach his broken hand to his stump. Disturbingly, he can control his fingers. Perfectly. The barbarian looked at the doctor, and sighed heavily,

"Doc. Do you have anything to wrap it up?"

Him? The doctor? He wasn't sure at his skill on it, knowing he woke up one day with no recollection, but after seeing the physically massive man this helpless, it's worth a try.

But he pats around his clothes to find nothing to make use of. Even so, wouldn't his ugly mass of remains he called arms just infect the stumps? He never thought he'd say this but,

"We're going to need their help."

And the barbarian never thought about them as any help at all. The doctor doesn't really trust the rest at all and the barbarian always believed he's more capable at this kind of situation. Now, they are in a terrible position and they really need some help.

"... Freak?" The barbarian looked at a bush, and the doctor got a little spook when he saw two white eyes under it. The survivor reveals his face with the crow skull, holding fresh leaves in his hands and some thin strips of wood in his mouth.

"How... How long have you been there?" The doctor asked, relieved that he brought something to make use of.

"Since I heard the screams. The Pain. And the silence of... The other..," the survivor muttered. The doctor wasn't sure what he meant at first. But then it clicks. Horribly clicks. As the barbarian in turn looked at the cabin, the survivor asked,

"Where.... Is he?"

----

Wake up.

He needs to wake up. Everything is dark and it feels nothing. This isn't good.

He has to wake up. The prisoner needs him.

Wake up. Wake up. Wake-

"-Up!"

His eye squints tight at the sudden voice. He struggled to flutter it open, as the bright, reflecting ceiling stings. Once he does, he felt a wave of pain flooding from his head to toe. While it burns, it didn't felt like they're jelly, so he managed to sit up. He looked at the stairs, fractured metal jammed into the walls. He swore they were moving on his way down. The room looked wrong. The ceiling looked narrower than the floor. The metal walls idly towering over him and the... Prisoner.

"Hey," the familiar voice came out of his mouth. "Are you okay? Did you hit your head?" Oh, he hit everything, alright.

The knight forced himself up to his feet. He sees the prisoner in a big, furry cloak slightly ripped and shed off of its hairs, with trickles of blood on the floor around him and the chains on his left hand. Alright, he's here to save him now-

But suddenly, a long blade springs from the cracks of the floor, and the knight narrowly dodged before it even touch his face. As he fell on his back, he tries to recover but another, smaller blade emerges in front of him. He tries to move to his side, but another pops up. Then another. Then another. They're blocking him.

As he shuffles away, he hears chains shifting. The prisoner reaches out for him but the chains hold him back, and in his dismay, he strained and pulled at the chains, his feet uselessly sliding on the smooth floor as he tries to run but is still held in place.

"Don't struggle!" The knight cried out. "You're going to break your hand. Trust me!"

The prisoner huffed in pure frustration and dropped the chains. Meanwhile, the blades slid back into the floor. The knight is not taking the chance and chose to back off, but not without standing up first.

The knight takes a good look at the prisoner. His eyes are wide with round, charcoal eyes. A tooth gap on the side of his teeth. Even his hair looked wild and fluffed up. Damn, he had been through a scruffle, hadn't he? With all the blades somehow sticking out wherever and whenever they want. It takes a hardened man to endure that.

The prisoner was staring off the distance while he catches his breaths when he looked and realize the knight is looking at him. That is one... Disheveled knight-

"Oh, you looked like you've seen better days. Were those cabins that bad?"

"... Yeah."

"Wait, how many cabins did you enter?"

"Uhh... 7, in counting-"

"7 Cabins?" He raised his voice. "Holy shit."

The knight looked down at himself and realized how... Awful he looked. Scratches, dents, dirt and now even sludge. Even the dent on his left arm still continues to give him bad memories.

"Is it..," the knight rubbed his neck, his face flushed as he looks away and hides his stained self with his cape. "Is it bad?"

"No! No, no, no, It's-" the knight looked up to see the prisoner beaming but stumbling on his words, "It's impressive! Like- They're like signs of a fight and you made it in the end of it! You must be really proud of yourself."

"I am more worried for myself than proud. I almost died."

"Well, at least you're alive," the prisoner snorted. "And you made it here! After seven cabins- I'm sorry but that is a lot. I don't even know how you survived falling down the stairs!"

Oh. He sounds quite the adventurer. Now that he isn't yelling at him, his burst of energy is quite infectious. It's almost encouraging. The knight flinched at the sudden brief sting in his head. He had to hold the endearing moment and his temple for minute.

"Oh- Sorry," the adventurer said. "Are you hurt, though? I watched you literally crumple when you landed here."

"Oh, my head hurts," the knight groaned, but really it's his whole body. "But I should be fine. I'll just get the key and get you out of here-"

The key. Where's the key?

The knight spun around and found the key near the corner. He must have dropped it on his way down here. He went to grab it and as soon as he reached down, small blades sprouted around the key for a second and he pulls away immediately. He huffed and tried to get it again, but they keep popping up. For the fourth time, he grabbed it and pulls away with a slice on his finger. It's small but it bleeds.

"That's new," the adventurer commented, leaning over to see it. The knight seemed to forget that even a step across the room only activates blades to block him. But he relents and runs pass it, only to be overwhelmed by more blades rapidly emerging until one knocks him off his balance.

"Just toss it!" The adventurer shouted, even wanting to help but he is shackled. The knight gets up, fumbles with the key and tossed it. But the room has better ideas and a thin blade hooks the hole of the key as it stabs the wall, leaving it sliding down to the opposite wall, dangling.

Well, that's not fair. But it's so close to the adventurer, he just needs to grab it-

He jumped as he felt another blade slicing at the back of his cloak again and the pull of the chains felt shorter. He glanced to see the blade hooked through the chains into the wall. It held him farther from his reach. From the key. From the knight-

"Oh, you Son of Bitch!" The adventurer screamed at the chains, his frustration more profound than ever, and he violently pulled at the chains again.

What is this place? The cabins before this were bad, but this one's cruel. It's fighting against the adventurer, and now the knight. Saving him is the right thing to do right now and he needs to do it fast.

But as he stepped forward, the floor shifts and it glides with the knight on it far from the adventurer as the room is quickly filled with blades from every direction.

It happened so fast. The adventurer froze as he sits with his back on the wall. He is crammed with blades, some cutting into his clothing and his skin. Any movement will cut him even more. His eyes darted around to look for his savior. He can't lose him yet, not like this.

He thought for a second that the knight is impaled by blades around him, but he is relieved to see no blood or punctures on him. The blades even... Bend around him.

The knight gasped as he moves his arms away from shielding his face, scraping noises grating into his ears. He survived but he is now trapped.

"What is... Happening?" The knight whimpered as his exposed fingers get cuts from trying to pry away the blades that trapped around his waist in place. This is the worst. They're going to die here if he doesn't get his whole feet on the ground to push himself out of this.

"I think I know what's happening," the adventurer croaked as he shifted his position to look at the knight properly. "Someone is clearly trying to stop me from escaping. And, since you came, now they're trying to stop you from saving me."

The knight stopped his squirming and looked at the adventurer. No, that's impossible- There was no one working in any of those cabins.

"Well- That would imply that there was someone watching us. Someone must be watching me and the others escape and did... Nothing!

So why now? Why did it had to be you? That's not fair for you, is it?"

Ah. So, this is really new for him. The adventurer sighed in disdain, more for the knight. This isn't fair for him, either.

Then he smirked, "Maybe it's because I figured it out. I knew that someone in charge here is planning something- And the cabins you mentioned just confirms that someone is playing on us.

Like some kind of a sick game."

"A game?" The knight clutched on the blades even more. "But I don't want to play a game- I'm just a knight! O-or at least, I am now..."

"Well-" the adventurer choked back. "I'm just a guy in an orstrich carcass, but the key? The blades? No. They want something from me. They want me to do something. And you know what? I'll play along."

The blades slowly slide back where they came from, giving more space for the adventurer to finally stand up and the knight to scramble back on his feet.

"Well, I won't," the knight sighed. "Whatever they are planning, I did not sign up for it. Neither did you. We have to get out of here."

"I am as eager to leave as you are, but it looks like we're not getting out of here without a fight," the adventurer grinned as he crossed his arms.

"It's not a lost cause, yet. Just get the key and toss it to me. It won't be easy but we are not losing to a living house!"

"But I'm nervous," the knight said. "What if more blades come out everytime I come close?"

"That's what they want you to think. Because you have already come so far, now they probably trying to scare you from getting close to rescuing me.

Don't. Let them."

Those three words lit up a spark in the knight. Of course. He has to remember his mission.

Don't let them win and let them keep the adventurer here. Don't let him die here.

"Alright," The knight starts to inch and bend his way around the blades that stayed stuck with his cape wrapped on his shoulders.

"I can do this. I won't leave you."

"That's it, show 'em!" the adventurer, despite being trapped, cheered. "We can beat this stupid basement. I'll even deal with the bastards who put us here. Mark my words."

Wow, that's three prisoners out for revenge already.

The knight scrapes some of his protective armor as he makes his way until he grabbed the key. Using his weight, he pushed his arm on the thin blade down. It bends until it snaps. The key slip onto the knight's hands and then another blade slice pass his cheek. The cabin seemed upset.

The knight tries to proceed but he felt as if his left arm was caught between something. The two blades managed to trap his arm, and unfortunately, this sends the knight into a rapid panic attack. When he tried pulling away, another sliced pass his plumes. They're multiplying as the knight is struggling with his arm and in his mind. The adventurer in turn tries reaching out again, as the knight is holding the key towards him.

"Mate- Stop!" The adventurer cried as the knight snapped back.

Recognizing that he is making it worse, the knight proceeds to toss the key to the adventurer. Just as he is about to catch it, another blade parries it down to the ground. He tries to grab it but the chains is pulled tighter and small blades pops out and back in.

The adventurer decides to use his foot and stomps on it, but the blades trapped him in place. Sure, his boot prevents them from actually hurting him, but now he is desperately pulling his foot free.

"Uhh," the adventurer nervously perks up. "A little help?"

The knight got over his traumatic reminiscing and pulled his arm free to see the adventurer struggling. There's no way he'll make it there in time through these blades. He scrambled down and crawls on the floor under the blades.

As if the room is now realizing how close he is getting, a blade presses on the knight's back to stop him. But the knight's hands grabbed unto the small blades to pull them apart to free the adventurer's boot. With enough wiggle room, the adventurer forcefully slides his foot with the key under it and he reached down to grab it.

Just before the adventurer could unlock the clamp, one last diagonal blade strikes close to his chest and neck. As it grows, it is moving dangerously close to him, hindering his free arm to reach for the key hole.

The adventurer presses back, holding his breath as the blade gets closer to his neck, until the knight grabs onto the blade, bending it as he gets up and pulls it away, cutting into his fingers as adventurer catches his breath and shove the key on the keyhole.

"It's over," he declared through gritted teeth as he unlocks the clamp free and it fell down as all the blades are sheathed back, leaving an empty room once more.

The knight backs up, dazed and sick, looking at the scratches on his armor and the bloody hands, until he is tackled by a laughing adventurer as the knight spun away to regain his balance from the impact.

"We did it! We won!" The adventurer exclaims as he dangles while hugging the knight tight. He hugged back, relieved that it's all over-

All of the sudden, a scraping noise is heard within the walls. It's not over. The two disperse, and as the knight beckons to leave immediately, the adventurer pushes him to the side before another huge blade could slice him.

Instead, as the knight is recovering, he helplessly watched as the adventurer fell on the floor, writhing, screaming and covering his right eye in pain. The blade slashed onto his face.

The knight tries to get up but gasps when he felt a sharp pain shooting up from his left hand to his arm. A blade on the wall impaled his hand, though the metal, fingerless gloves. Adrenaline rises as he tries to pull his hand out but not long before he saw blades from the other wall, aiming for him.

The blades thrust forward until heavy chains are tossed and they fell on the blades, breaking them into pieces before they can reach the terrified knight. He watched as the clamp is then pulled back and he turn to see the adventurer pulling the chains out of the walls.

His right eye might be shut close with a huge scar bleeding down his face, but the anger can be seen in his other eye, his tears, and his breaths. He roared as he swung the chains at the blades attacking him, then using the clamp to punch the bloodied blade that ruined his face.

The adventurer rushes to the knight's side. "Here. Let me-," he smashed the protruding blade so that the knight can slide his injured hand off with a gasp of pain.

"L-Let's get out of here!" The knight regains his strength and gets up with help of the adventurer as they dash for the staircase before the room is filled with blades.

The adventurer raced up ahead of the stairs, smashing every blades popping out and tearing at his cloak with the chains wrapped in his right hand and the clamp on his left. The knight hangs onto his shoulder, cape tightly clutched as everything is pointing at them, stairs shifting and shattering under their feet.

Just as they are about to reach the door, the stairs gave way and they both fell. But the adventurer hooks his clamp onto one protruding blade, sending them swinging and the knight held him tight as he turns on his back to the jagged, metal walls, enduring the painful impact just so the adventurer won't get any more injured.

The adventurer relentlessly climbed the chains until something is forcing itself from the door. Claws. Steel claws.

As soon as it inches a gap, it was swung open by the barbarian above, an arm and a leg wrapped in leaves and wood.

"Grab on!" The survivor beside him is hush but louder as he yelled, as the adventurer grabbed onto the barbarian's hand, his free arm around the knight as they are thrusted upstairs. There is no time to celebrate, as they run out before every blades starts emerging from the basement and into the cabin-

...

The survivor stayed still outside, clutching someone in his arms, as the blades stood still at his back. Okay. He's alive. What about him?

The survivor shifted to see who he is holding... The doctor. For a second, he thought he was dead until he hears his quick breathing. One of his glasses... Cracked. Not from falling. The blade. It almost hit him, the survivor thought. He could've died.

The doctor thought so too. He sighed shakily as he raised to touch his broken left lens. He's... Alive. They hear a grunt and turn to see the barbarian... Pulling himself off of the blades that strucked and slashed at him.

They left a huge gash on his torso and a stab on the right side of the chest. He shouldn't be alive, and yet he is. And he's not worrying.

The barbarian tiredly cackled, "Well, that's not that bad."

They were greeted by sounds of someone celebrating. It's the adventurer, triumphantly jumping around and pointing at the cabin filled with blades that sprouted outside.

"Ha! Yes!" The adventurer jumped as he yelled at the cabin. "Take that, you Bloody Cheaters! Screw you and your master, you sons of a b- Ack!"

Then the adventurer felt a sting of pain on his eye as he groaned in pain. Right. It took a number on him. As the three, despite the barbarian's injuries, rushes to help, the knight drags himself to the kneeling adventurer. He ripped a long strip of his cape and tries to wrap his face, but the doctor said,

"Your hand."

The knight doesn't want to acknowledge it. He doesn't want to look at it. But the wet, metallic pain is hindering him right now.

"I'll take care of it," the survivor gently grabbed the strip while the doctor pulled the knight aside. The survivor wrapped the strip around the adventurer's scar on his face who is both cooperative and idle.

The barbarian knelt down to the adventurer and said, "Oh, you've been trapped there for a while? Now, that is very dangerous prison. You're a strong one."

"Thanks," the adventurer responded blankly. "It's my will to confront the shit out of the game maker around here that kept me inside."

This made the barbarian chuckled. Meanwhile the doctor packed and wrapped leaves on the wound and around the knight's hand, stinging but it's soothing.

"Uhm..," the knight mutters but continues. "Can you please go get the others..? I... Wanna talk to him in private," he cocked his head towards the adventurer.

"Uh," the doctor raised an eyebrow for he really wasn't sure about the three, but knowing two of them are greatly injured, something has to be done.

"Fine. They'd better make themselves useful other that sitting around and do nothing," the doctor huffed but not at the knight. "Don't worry. You'll be fine."

The doctor gestures the survivor and the barbarian to follow him down the path.

The knight sat there in silence as he glanced at the adventurer, tired but relieved that he is free. Injured, though.

"... I'm so sorry."

"Hm? For what? My eye?"

The knight sheepishly scoots over.

"Yeah that. I- I thought we could at least... Leave with a little scratch or something. Not with an injury that could have been avoided," his voice trembled and the pain in his hand did not help. "Not with your face cut off like that! If only I was a little faster and- And-"

"My face is fine," the adventurer shifted himself forward to the sniffling knight. "It won't be that bad for long. You should be worried about your hands..."

He ripped a two pieces of his cloak with his teeth and continues the doctor's work to wrap around both of the knight's hands. They're soft and fuzzy, the knight has to fight the urge to squeeze them.

"Don't feel guilty for me, alright? You're only doing the right thing. And I am..," Silence, and a sigh with a small smile he continues wrapping. "Very grateful for that. Thanks for helping me down there, mate. I mean it, really."

The knight tiredly giggled, even despite the pain, "You're... Welcome. Thanks for saving me."

"Eh, of course. Anything to return the favor."

Something shines at the corner of their eye. A mirror, laying on the ground behind them. That's new. The adventurer curiously reach for it, in which the knight reached for his arm.

"Don't bother. It... Would only disappear when you touch it."

"... And then what?"

"I... Honestly don't know."

The adventurer touched the mirror regardless. Or rather, the ground. There is no mirror. This confused the adventurer greatly. He scanned his surroundings and realized the identical cabins the knight was talking about.

"... What the hell is this place?"

----

The rogue is intrigued but queasy watching the survivor dab a wet fur over the adventurer's open wound on his face. It's an ugly sight.

"Why not just... Let the doctor stitch it up?" The rogue asked. The survivor answered immediately,

"The other is more injured than this one. On his hands no less..."

"It's alright. Just give me few days and I get a hell of a big scar," the adventurer spoke blankly, but almost enthusiastically.

"Alright. If you say so," the rogue put down the make-shift stone bowl of water, barely deep enough hold half of one. "So... The cabin tried to kill you?"

"Bullshit, right?" The adventurer nodded. "I'd call it a torture chamber more than anything, as if being locked up in jail isn't bad enough.

"I couldn't agree more," the survivor casually mentioned, as he begins to wrap the drier strip of cloth around the scar. "I was trapped with an animal who was out to eat me. It was an eternity until I was rescued."

"I'm more astounded that you managed to survive that long," the adventurer chuckled in which the survivor's eyes sparked at that compliment. Knowing a bond is shared the rogue eagerly said,

"You know, I was in an awful cabin too! It's a small space with really big and constricting roots around me, but I did managed to slip out of my chains before the knight came in."

The two blinked. The rogue awkwardly sits there, smiling.

"Oh. How... Uncomfortable, honestly-"

"Okay-" the rogue caught on the sarcasm and waved his hand around. "It's not "deadly", but it's a prison- Of course, I hate it there. I would rather sit in a big, beautiful room like the other guy did-"

"You'll get lonely there, you fool," the slave- the guy in question- piped in from the other side of the nest. For a sad guy, he's quite a party-pooper. With nothing else say, the rogue scoffed,

"Don't you have a guy to mend?"

The slave said nothing and minded back to his business; holding the knight still as the doctor stitched his impaled hand. The rest are wrapped in cloth. The knight wants to watch the doctor's handicraft but he hates seeing the damage it was done to him. It's not just the fact the blade stabbed his hand, it's also the way it held him back, trapping him so he won't get away from his near doom. Just like last time.

"There..," the doctor muttered as he cuts off the string- a strand of the knight's hair- and wraps it up. "I know it hurts a lot but we have to keep it intact and protected- What are you doing?"

The doctor stopped the knight from standing up, so did the slave but only because the doctor did so. Though, he really want it to be over with.

"I need... To go," the knight, as tired and in pain as he is, sighed as he tries to reach for the helmet beside him. He's relentless, isn't he?

"No, you don't-'

"Yes, I do. I can't stay here while there are more-"

"You were literally dying back there- You need to stop-"

"I can't. What if they're in danger like him?"

The adventurer heard it and sighed. He understands the will to rescue but even he can see the knight loosing his strength. The doctor squeeze the knight's hands as he hushed him.

"You're not going back like this. Do you understand?"

The knight went silent. Reluctantly, he nodded. The doctor then said,

"Just rest. You'll save them when you feel better."

And as if on cue, the knight passed out again onto the slave's lap, who yelped. The doctor check the pulse on his neck and sighed,

"See? Just give him time."

"Wha- Why am I the one to hold him?" The slave complained as the doctor stood up. The doctor ruffled his white hair as he walked away,

"To give you something to do for once."

The slave slumps down and pouts. Oh well. He looked at the knight and just idly ruffled his hair. It's actually nice.

The cloaked man is actually the one mending the wounds of the barbarian near the camp. The brute in question is very cooperative, with the pain not as severe despite the size of the damage. The cloaked man just wiped away the blood until nothing is coming out of the beautiful cracks that the edges formed.

The cloaked was watching the knight struggle and pass out. He can't help but... Hum.

"Oh, look. He's growing desperate. How unfortunate..."

"Get off his back," the stubborn idly spoke. "You can't stop him until he's got everyone. He'll wake up eventually and do this all. Over. Again."

"Yes," the cloaked man nodded. "Hopefully it won't be a detriment in the long run."

That sounded like sarcasm. A prediction. An... Anxiety waiting to happen.

The doctor puts the back of hand on the adventurer's forehead, warm from the cold and exhaustion.

"What happens now?" The adventurer, eager despite this. The doctor sighed and shook his head as he adjusts his already broken glasses.

"Rest. All of you. You will feel better once you wake up."