You'll be alright, oh, this here is the Magic Shop

Familiar faces surrounded you, watching you descend into the ocean. You'll never forget the harsh rocks crunching under and stabbing your feet and the salty taste of the water-breathing potion before you were thrown harshly into the waters below.

You didn't have a choice but to swim, not just to fulfill your purpose but to stay alive. And there were people who were counting on you to send their prayers to the deities. The water circling through your lungs felt strange. It was supposed to burn going through your nose, fill your lungs till you drowned. Whoever made the potion must've gone through a lot of trial and error to perfect it.

You descend deeper and deeper. You never imagined the ocean floor could look so beautiful. The fishes swam along, minding their business, and the kelp you swam through tickles your skin ever so slightly.

Finally you see it, the ocean monument. You found yourself being stared back at by odd-looking creatures. You weren't warned about them. They seemed docile until you swam closer.

Your yelp of pain was drowned out in the water, replaced by bubbles instead.

Suddenly more of those odd creatures come out of the structure, swimming towards you and fast. You didn't know what to do or where to go. Quickly, you swim as fast as you can into the structure. You figured the Sea God must’ve been there. Your pulse quickens. Everything feels so heavy. Your arms slowly begin to burn as well. You were running out of time.

Just as your luck would have it, you were lost within the structure and quickly cornered. You had no weapon to defend yourself. Before you could motion that you meant no harm, your lungs began to burn as water entered them. Instinctively, your mouth opens, trying to gasp for air.

You gasp awake, panting and sweaty. You grab your throat, feeling nauseous and lightheaded. You could still feel the burning in your lungs and nose.

“Just a dream…” You muttered.

You hated having those dreams, or rather nightmares. Every death replayed in detail. Opal jumps on your bed, worried and still half asleep. “Sorry, Opal.” You felt bad waking her up. She snuggles against your arm, then lies on your stomach, putting her full weight onto your chest. She was heavy but keen on staying where she was. Trying to push her off didn't work. She huffed and closed her eyes. Slowly the air shifted. Her body tensed, her hackles raised, and her teeth bared.

You've never seen her face like that up close. You thought she was about to attack you.

“What is it, girl?” You try asking softly, but she doesn’t move. Her ear raises, trying to listen to whatever was lurking around—maybe a monster? Opal has been like this recently, more so at night. You don't know why, and now she's been refusing to guide you to where she sensed this danger. Maybe she wasn't sure herself?

Either way, you couldn't stay in bed all day and had things you needed to do.

Rolling over onto your side, Opal falls onto the bed. Quickly you slide off and swing open your bedroom door. Trying to show her everything was okay, you were safe.

“Look, there's not—” you froze, the words catching at your throat.

There was someone in your home, rummaging through your chest. You thought he didn't notice your presence, but as you began to slowly draw your sword, he turned his head to face you.

“Nice house ya got here~.” He chirps, closing your chest, holding the unsmelted iron ore in his hand. He fiddles with it, like it was the most interesting thing he’s seen so far. But once he turned to you, you wondered if your time was really up and death was finally set to take you permanently. He looked human enough but clearly was far from it. He was nothing like you’ve ever seen before.

His face was a pale white, black smile and markings under his eyes. “It’s rude to stare.” He draws his fingertips over the chest before closing it. Your fear only made his smile grow inhumanly wider.

“Give that back!” You shouted, sword pointing at him. Opal speeds out of your room, angry and scared, but ready to defend you from the mysterious intruder.

“Nah, I think I'll keep it. It's nice.” He shoves it into the pocket of his hoodie. You had to grab Opal by the collar to stop her from pouncing on him. You didn't know what this…thing could do.

He seemed docile, at least for now. You thought he was going to leave until he began rummaging through your cabinets this time.

“Y-you hungry?” You asked hesitantly.

Opal shakes under your hand. She desperately wanted to grab onto his ankle until he ran out screaming; honestly, it was quite a funny thought. He keeps rummaging until his hand stops on something. He pulls out a loaf of bread from your cabinet and stares at it like he's disgusted.

“Take it. It's all yours.”

He looks in your direction, eyeing you up and down like he owned the place and you were the uninvited guest. For some reason, you decided to smile, not a forced one either, maybe because you finally found someone who didn't know you? He seemed lost, reminding you a bit of yourself. His smile falters and his upper lip twitches, taken aback by your expression.

“I don't remember asking for permission.” He replies, his voice sending a chill down your spine.

“OPAL!” you shouted. Somehow she slipped free from her collar and lunged at him. His jaw unhinges, and he draws his weapon, throwing it to you before disappearing in a puff of smoke.

You cry out in pain and wake back in your bed, heart still pounding. Opal howls and barks, trying to find you.

“I'm here, girl!” You called.

Opal rushes in, visibly upset by what had transpired seconds ago. Your head rushes. What the hell was that thing? It. HIM? If you could even call it that.

You've never seen anything like it before. He looked so human yet so demonic. You thought maybe he was a deity that you’ve angered somehow after one of your many failed sacrifices. But that wasn't your fault. The priest never mentioned him before. There have been no depictions of him in those ancient books he forced you to read.

Stumbling out of bed, trying to make sense of what just happened. You feel your reality slip apart right under your feet, then you remember the smoke. Was it him the first time?

Your breathing grows heavier, and so does your body as you try to keep yourself upright, holding on to the wall for support. You were stupid for trying to confront him again, but this was your house.

"What?"

Instead, you find a sign facing you in your favorite wood type right where he was standing. There was no trace of him or the weapon that was thrown your way.

‘You’re an interesting one, aren’t you?’. - Knocker.

Your heart drops, your blood runs cold, and suddenly you're thinking of all the ways to disappear again. Running saved you once. Maybe it could again? Your body finally gives way. You could feel the bile rising in your throat as your vision blurred.

You were his toy now, and he was going to enjoy every moment of it. Like he did now, watching you from your window. His breathing fogs the glass. Knocker taps the window a few times before disappearing.

He meant what he said.

Many years ago, war had plagued the land. There was no end in sight until today. You, a powerful figure of hope, had a part to play, and you played it well. You aided your allies until the very end. And now you were here. At a celebration thrown in your and your friend's honor. All of you relished in the praises and cheers, especially Dogday, who was to be crowned king. After that, your adventures together would come to an end.

Poppy noticed the shift on your face while you were lost in thought. She lightly nudged your leg and gave a comforting smile. You have a small smile before returning your attention to the people waving at them.

The celebration wasn't over just yet, and your town is known for throwing celebrations that lasted for weeks. Once you reached the final destination, the carriage came to a halt in front of the palace. You've been here a few times considering your relationship with Dogday, but it felt so surreal seeing it decorated in your honor.

Dogday helps you out of the carriage, and you both walk hand in hand up the stairs, Kissy and Poppy right behind you. As you enter the walls of the palace, suddenly everything feels suffocating, too loud, and too bright. Even during the celebratory banquet, you were so out of it, your anxiety and fears ate through you. If only the people could know their Angel too had their own problems.

“Excuse me, I'll be back.” You excused yourself, walking down the long, unfamiliar corridor. Each photo on the wall depicted a time in history of the Dogday's family reign. Generations upon generations of royalty ran through his blood, then there was you…

It didn't matter how much power or status you had. You didn't have the right blood streaming through your veins, and that made things difficult.

The guards opened the double doors to the balcony. Down below were screams and cheers of your name. Lifting your head up, you wave, only making the crowd grow more vigorous.

“There you are, my angel.” Dogday wraps his arms around you, earning awes from the crowd. You laugh, trying to squirm away from him, but his grasp on you was tight, possessive, and grounding. He was always your source of comfort, even during the most grueling of times.

“I just needed some air is all, my love,” you replied. The night was hot. Your forehead grew damp. Dogday takes out a handkerchief from his pocket and lightly dabs your forehead. You grow flustered.

“Sorry… I'm so gross.” You breathed. Dogday shakes his head. Once he was done drying you off, he folded and put his handkerchief back in his pocket.

“Oh, enough of that, my love. I could never be disgusted by you.” He takes your hand and twirls you around. “And look at how stunning you are! My gorgeous angel.” Dogday leans in, giving you a soft kiss on your lips. For a second, it felt like it was just the two of you, the sounds of cheer drowned out, and the only thing you could hear was how loud your heart was.

Dogday hesitantly pulls away, then looks up. You follow his gaze and turn your face towards the sky. The stars seemed to glow just a bit brighter tonight, maybe out of celebration?

“It's so weird,” you take his hand in yours. “The war against the prototype is over after so long… now you can be crowned king.” You swallow hard, knowing everything will change once he takes his pledge to his people. Dogday reassuringly squeezes your hand, his tail wagging, making his tail coat swish along with him.

“And you will be the monarch by the king's side, of course.” He goes in for another kiss. “GUYSSS!” Poppy and Kissy rush to where you're standing. “There you two are! Come on, it’s time to dance with the others!”

Poppy grabs you by the hem of your outfit and tries to pull you back into the palace with all her strength. You laugh, picking her up and placing her on your shoulder.

“No need to worry. We're coming, guys,” you affirmed. Just down below, the crowd began to grow rowdy again seeing the whole crew together. All of you wave before returning into the palace once more. You let out a heavy sigh once the doors close behind you.

You’ve been staying in the Schmidt's residence for 2 days. You were familiar with the creaky floorboards and the layout of the entire house. Why? Because your beloved Michael had somehow gotten the plague, someone needed to take care of little Abby while he was actively dying.

Mike had been sleeping most of the days, only being awoken from his slumber for meds, water, and broth. Abby, on the other hand, was easier to take care of, and luckily she had school to keep her occupied, and it gives you a bit of a break too.

You had just finished dropping off Abby from school. That was one task of your to-do list done for the day. The next task was Mike. Quietly you enter the house and lock the door behind you. Suddenly there was a loud groan followed by a sneeze.

“Mike?” You quickly plopped your belongings down and rushed to his bedroom. You had to cover your mouth from the sight. Somehow, Mike landed face-first onto the floor. He looked so out of it.

“Hey, what happened?” You cross your arms, waiting to hear a slurred answer. Instead, he groans again.

“Okay, come on.” You hook your arms under his and try to lift him up. He was heavier than he looked. He groans again loudly in your ear. Throwing him onto the bed, you huff. “You didn't need to do that!”

Mike opens his eyes halfway. They were red, irritated, and watery. You place the back of your hand on his forehead. He was way too hot.

“I'm so coldddd!” he wraps himself with the blanket like a child throwing a tantrum. Men really do turn into babies when sick, huh?

“How about I make you something warm? Like soup?” Mike peeks from under the blanket. You could’ve sworn you'd seen his eyes light up at the mention of food.

He nods, rasping out a hoarse “yes.”

“Right, I'll be back!” You head to the kitchen, hoping he stays in bed this time. Luckily, Mike had some soup in the pantry from the last time Abby had gotten sick. Chicken noodle was all they had, and you assumed it was her favorite. Making do with that, they had you grab a pot from under the cabinet and heat up the stove.

Then you open the can and pour out all its contents into the heating pot. It was a quick process, taking no more than 10 minutes. Once you made sure the soup was ready, you poured it into a bowl, saving some in the pot just in case.

You took a spoon and napkins, then carefully made your way to Mike's room with the hot bowl in hand.

“Mikey!~” you whispered, trying not to startle him. Somehow he looked worse than how you left him. His cheeks were flushed and his forehead damp with sweat, yet he was still wrapped snugly under the blankets.

You place down the bowl and utensils with a soft clink and then gently shake him awake.

“Mikey, wake up.” His eyes slowly open. Before you could get another word out, he grabs you and rolls you onto the bed with him.

“Michael!” you shouted. His face finds your neck, and he remains there. Placing soft kisses on it. You try to pull yourself off, but he tries to trap you, wrapping his arms tightly around you, or as tight as he thinks. He barely kept you in place.

“Mike, you—” he kisses you sloppily, hand finding its way into your hair as he pulls you closer. Then you feel it, the reason he was acting this way. He grinds against you, his hard member aching for release as he grinds faster.

“You're sick,” you say in between kisses.

“Help me, please?” he begs, his eyes growing wetter as if he was going to sob if he didn't have you. You knew it was because he was sick, but it was a very nice thought seeing him crying from depravity.

You sigh and nod, finally breaking the kiss. Mike was sweating as you helped each other undress. Then he started shivering.

“We can—”

“No!” He grabs your wrists and pulls you back down into a harsh kiss. You couldn't help but laugh at how determined he was to fuck you. His hot hands roam your body, finding between your heat. Your body shudders, satisfied with this reaction. His hands find their way to your nipples, gently rubbing them and lightly tugging them, earning another moan from you.

“So reactive.” He kisses your chest, then licks and sucks on your nipple. You toss your head back as he sucks, drool running down his chin.

Then suddenly he stops. You thought he was pondering where to move to next, but he was too still. “Mike?”

He snores himself awake. “Yes?” he says groggily, lifting his head. You lightly push his head back onto the pillow with a soft laugh.

“Let me take care of you.”

You reach over to the drawer on the left, a special drawer meant for his and your eyes only. You take out the half-empty bottle of lube and drizzle it down your chest. Mike's eyes practically popped out of his skull as he watched the erotic scene unfold in front of him.

As you place the lube back onto the nightstand, he moves his hands up and down your waist. You drizzle some lube on your hand and slowly begin to stroke his member. Mike jolts and gasps. Slowly you tease yourself with it as you line his dick up to your hole, then slowly sink down.

You squeeze around him, and he could’ve sworn he saw the heavens. “F—fuck!” Mike rasps as you slowly begin to move. Bouncing up and down his length to your own rhythm. He tries to help, tries to lift his hands to thrust into you, but he is much too weak.

“I’ve got you.” You bounce harder and faster, clenching around him again. You and Mike both let out a series of moans. His callused hands grip onto your thighs. He tries to pull you closer, slams you down harder, giving him what he was asking for. You slam down harder onto your cock. Mike was gone, closing his eyes as he chanted your name.

He tries to reach a hand to play with your chest again, but it falls to the side. You help him, keeping a hand on top of your nipple as he played with it. Pleasure erupted in so many places in your body. Your eyes rolled, legs became sore and shaky.

“Cumming!” you gasp as your body twitches. You get off of him, and he cums on your lower back and on his thighs. The white substance leaks down onto the sheets underneath.

You fall onto the side of the bed, panting, shaky, and sweaty. Mike rolls over and clings onto you as if you two were a disgusting mess of each other's juices.

“Feeling any better?” You wrapped your arms around him, stroking his hair. He nods into your neck and sighs.

“Yes.”

You place the back of your hand on his forehead. His temperature seems to have gone down. The soup was long forgotten and needed to be heated up again. You felt like you were forgetting something. You hummed, lost in thought, trying to recall what you had forgotten.

“What's wrong?” Mike asks, kissing your neck. You look up at the ceiling, breaking your mind trying to remember.

“I feel like I’m forgetting to do something…”

“It probably wasn't important,” Mike replies groggily, closing his eyes as he begins to drift off. Quickly you gasp, shooting up.

“What?! What?!” Mike screamed, scared half to death. Quickly you scurry, trying to put on your clothes, tripping over yourself, and landing on the floor before you quickly pick yourself up again.

“I FORGOT TO PICK UP YOUR SISTER!” You screamed in the hallway before slamming the door. Mike blinks tiredly and yawns, high off medication and blissfully unaware of what you had just said.

Rain pours down, drenching you completely and blinding your view. You didn't know left from right or forwards from backward, but you knew you needed to press on no matter what. You were alone, afraid, and you walked for days on end.

The only thing you took with you was a sword used as a so called holy relic. the village you were born into worshipped gods of old and had their own way of life, mostly secluded from the rest of the world. You were just like the rest of them, human in every shape of the word. Until the day you wandered too far. You were supposed to be dead. Instead, when your body was discovered, you were, in fact, you and very much alive and well.

Quickly, this ability of yours was deemed a blessing, as the village priest called it. The ability to return from death no matter how gruesome was a gift from the gods they worshipped. And thus, you were treated as a holy being, a sacred vessel instead of the child you were. Ripping you away from your parents to turn you into something greater.

A messenger.

Soon more disasters began to occur. You were needed during the worst drought your village ever faced.

They needed their prayers to be heard and were willing to risk everything, even you, their blessing.

You were held down and bathed in anointed water, then dressed in white. It all happened too fast. One second you were listening to someone's pleas, the next you were trembling as you stood above the calm waters that were slowly becoming enraged. The jump was steep, the waves crashing occasionally into the rocks below. You desperately wanted to back out. Before you could turn, you were tossed into the sea, unaware of what dangers lay beneath. They had convinced you you were doing the unseen gods work by giving the sea their prayers through you.

There came a point where you began to wonder if you truly were a messenger. They used you in a new way. Whenever tragedy struck, you became their sacrifice in order to ensure their prayers were "delivered properly." You always came back, waking up in that little cold room in the church you lived in. Too numb and dazed to even cry anymore.

You couldn't lie. Sometimes you enjoyed the attention and praise, although you didn't quite grasp the gravity of the situation you were forced into yet. The feeling of being a savior, their savior—the world's savior—made you feel important. But as you got older, the more frequently you were needed to relay messages to the unseen gods, soon becoming a never-ending cycle. Until the drought became worse, it felt like you were waking up from death every single day. Nightmares and reality began blurring together. Even the pain began to feel like something your brain conjured up to prepare you for what was about to happen.

The emptiness all this came with made you feel almost nonhuman, a husk housing a soul. And it grew until the void within you made itself aware. You weren't sure what it was you were missing, but you also didn't bother to bring it up to anyone out of fear.

With every blessing came the slow loss of faith, and soon fear took hold. Eventually they treated you differently to the point where the priest who had raised you labeled you a false creation, the devil pawn in disguise.

You were locked away. The little freedom you had left was stripped, and they kept you in the church's prison for sinners. You weren't sure how you even managed to escape, but once you did, you never looked back. Stealing a holy relic and using it as a weapon was your way of getting your last laugh.

That's how you found yourself in the situation you're in now.

Eventually, you came across a small hut and planned to camp there for a few days. A few days turned into weeks, and before you could blink, it became a place you called home. Building wasn't your strong suit—not like they expected you to lift a finger when you were worshipped, or something like that. But you thought it looked pretty cozy and began fixing it up with what you had to work with.

However, you could never shake the feeling of being watched, no matter where you were. Maybe the guilt from running away was eating away at you after all this time. Tending your garden, caring for your animals, or rearranging your chests, you always felt eyes on you wherever you went.

You brushed the feeling aside for much too long. They couldn't have found you… right? Still, you made sure to move carefully no matter how far you went.

Even while mining, you were wary. They were short trips, but this time you decided to stay a little longer, seeing how promising the cave was.

Once you managed to find the entrance, you rushed back home, the moon beaming in the sky. Grinning from ear to ear, you really lucked out this time and wanted to put away your spoils. Even the hissing of spiders and groans of zombies couldn't sour your mood. Soon the dim lighting from where you lived started to come into view. A wave of relief washes over you as you get closer to your house with each step.

Swinging open your door and then closing it before the monsters come in, you remain there for a moment, hand on the door, while you catch your breath. After you’ve gotten enough air back in your body to function, you sling your backpack off of your shoulder and then groan, rubbing your legs.

You were out there on your feet for hours, maybe even days. Your legs were burning and screamed they needed rest.

As you begin stripping off your armor, your wolf comes up to you, nudging your leg and whining.

“Hey girl! What’s wrong?” You crouch down, ignoring the screaming in your legs, to give your precious pup much-needed attention. Poor Opal was used to you being away for days in the mines. You felt bad. You can't imagine how lonely she must’ve felt and how scared she—

“Who's there?” You quickly turn around, facing the front door. Senses heightened, someone was lurking outside. Your heartbeat begins to pick up. You didn't have time to armor up. Opal stands in front of you. You only had time to draw your sword and shield. You motion for Opal to sniff out the intruder. She points her snout to the door of your bedroom.

Which was odd. You just heard them outside?

Your eyes widen in fear, and your mind rushes with every terrible outcome that could occur.

They broke in.

They found me.

They're going to take me back.

They're going to kill me.

You took one step, then another, towards the door. Your footsteps were light and quiet, but your breath was shaky. None of this felt real. You didn't want to believe it was true.

Placing your ear onto the door, you can hear faint breathing on the other side, like they were listening by the door too.

Without warning, you open the door, ready to attack. But before you could even raise your weapon, it was too late.

“O-Opal!” you cry out, waking up from bed. Opal barks at a puff of black smoke, trying to grab it with her teeth as it dissipates.

“A fire? No, are they that desperate that they're working with some kind of witch? An evoker? Illusioner, maybe?”

You were so distraught, a hand runs down your face as you try to figure out what the hell was even going on.

Opal barks in your direction. You shush her, but she continues, forcing you to get out of bed. “Hungry, girl? Come on!” You tried to put on a brave face for her, shaking off what just happened to keep her calm. This wasn't how you wanted the reunion with your previous companion to go.

You were too focused on your own thoughts to see that Opal wasn't barking at nothing.

CW: MDNI Death, gore, manipulation, stalking, violence, swearing, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, smut, dual pov, second person pov, no use of y/n, my interpretation of knocker, pet names, trauma, dub-con, original characters, slowish burn, religious imagery and symbolism

Synopsis: In a small village secluded from the world, was born a child with a blessing, a gift bestowed by the Gods. Given the ablity to return after death. The villagers turned that little blessing into a messenger, a child, sent off to deliver the burdens and prayers of the villagers, turning peril to the Gods themselves.

But as they grow older they realize not everything is as it seems and the faces they see in shadows might not be a trick of their mind.

A/N: Hellooooo! I've been working on this for such a long time and I'm so so sooo happy to finally be able to share it with you guys! Knocker is my favorite rn and i wanted to write something longer for him. This is also my first time writing smut so plz bare with me. I also tried to keep it as vague as possible since its a GN!reader.

Started:06/28/26 | Ended: 

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Within the darkness of the void housed a single source that was forever trapped in eternal nothingness. Stripped of its humanity and cursed into its unsightly new form, sentient and aware, all concept of time had been lost.

Until a small pocket of light appeared. It examines it, fingers brushing over the small tear that dares leak in such a obnoxious source.

It tries to cover it, tries to fix it, mend it in hopes to return to how things were within the void. It felt comfort in it despite it causing it so much pain and turmoil. More tears begin to appear, too many for it to try to fix. Then it sees it: the familiar lush greens of a world it had long forgotten. It watches within its blanket of nothingness.

The leaves gently swaying in the wind, the sun beaming brightly onto the water casting a blinding glow. Maybe in another life it would’ve appreciated it. It watches as the day turns into night.

A figure rushes past, sparking a flicker of something within it. A feeling it has lost a long time ago? Recently? It couldn't tell.

Stubbornly, it begins to claw its way through the tears, wanting to go to the source.

Clawing and clawing until it finds itself standing in the same spot it observed through the void. The feeling it once felt was now gone, and it was determined to find it again.

A new threat to the world had been reborn and he already found his first victim.