Ditto

While retreating to the main troops alone because your other teammates have died in battle, you faced a vampire who lured you in where you were right now and you've been so distracted that you can't seem to find your way out. But you knew one thing that this was somewhere in the vampire city and if you were able to report back about this place, you'd be ranked higher than your current rank in the army.

The air was cold and spiked against your lungs but you kept running because one moment of stillness could mean the end for you. You halted abruptly your boots skidding on the slightly damp floor, taking a few steps back while holding the hilt of your sword tight, ready to swing. A man with silver hair walked in front of you, his posture composed and arms crossed, a smug smirk on his face, "My my, what a loud bird we have running in the halls today" sarcasm embedded in his tone.

You're panting standing infront of him ready to attack, the cold air spiking against your lungs. His striking beauty caught your eyes but you knew he wasn't as safe as he seemed right now. And by things you've observed so far you could tell that this was the 7th progenitor Ferid Bathory. Did you really have the energy to fight him after all the occurances in the battlefield an hour ago? Perhaps not. This is a lost case, you're out. You spin on your heels running the opposite way your, feeling lightweighted you could almost faint. You felt like your legs will give up on you but you have to keep going if you want to survive this.

Before you even ran a meter a chuckle came from behind you as well as a blurr of white, something gripped your arm tightly stopping you in your tracts. You swung the sword at his neck with the other hand but he caught it, blood seeping from his palms, "Ah ah" he leaned in against your ear, "Running away is so rude especially when someone is trying to greet you so warmly. Tell me, where is the little lamb headed in such a rush, hm? I'm kind enough to welcome you to stay here"

You gasp and pant trying to calm the burning ache in your chest, you twist and turn in his grasp but his fingers don't budge, "Let me go". The others would probably call you pathetic right now for not being able to fight back properly but they're dead. The strength difference between you two was terrifying, your heart hammering against your chest because you believed this is how you end but you have to keep going.

He tilted his head looking at your flushed face, beads of cold sweat, the way your body is heaving, it was as if he was watching you with curiosity of seeing a human for the first time. In all the centuries he has lived he's never seen a human fight for their life even though they're quite certain that they'll die. It was honestly entertaining. "Oh? Look at that expression you have" he inched closer to your face, "Do all humans try to fight back even though they know death is standing in front of them? Or are you just special?" he mocked.

"Stop with this act and do whatever you're going to do and get this over with" you spat at his face, your face displaying anger. A smile broke out on the face of the progenitor, something weird stirred in his heart, he felt it in his stomach too. What is this? He didn't know but it was deeply amusing and it felt good enough for him to crave more of it. Usually you'd be drained dry or handed over to the guards for preparing bloodbags and keeping you captive. But as Ferid looked at the anger pulsing through your veins and the bratty behaviour you had, he doesn't want to do something like that.

"Get it over with? Hells, no. That's such a dreary way to think. It would be a shame to hand you to the guards, they have such dull methods to deal with poeple like you. No appreciation for flavour, spirit or the finer things inside. I think fate brought you here for a reason" as he finished he yanked your sword out of your hands and threw it aside as it slided across the damp floor and he flung you over his shoulder while you were slamming your fists against his back after you let out a cry of shock. "What are you doing? Put me down!" you yelled, "Shh keep it down little lamb, if the other nobles hear you and see us like this they'll ask way too many questions which I am not in the mood to answer today"

He started walking and you stayed quiet, he slowly adjusted you so that you're not hanging on his shoulders anymore, he has both arms under you while you sit on them and your arms are on his shoulders. "I dont want to go anywhere with you, tell me what you want and leave me alone" you whispered and clutched the fabric of his uniform because you fear you may fall. "Why, nothing at all" he replies in a soft voice stripped of his usual sarcasm in his voice as he passes through what seems to be secret passages away from the vampire population.

He looked at you, "You must be very tired from trying to run today, your legs probably hurt and you wouldn't have made it very far either. A gentleman doesn't leave a tired traveller. Think of me as your saviour this afternoon" he said his voice like silk. "Saviour you say? Pure irony there" you said disinterested, "Well if I had let you be caught by the guards and bleed out right there, would that be much better?" his smirk back on his face, you could visibly see your reflection in his red eyes. "Well its fine if you dont think that way, its not as if I care about what you think" he said as he reached the mansion, he opened the door with one hand while carrying you with the other, he closed the door behind him as he walked towards the couch and placed you on top, the moment you were sat down you melted against the softness of the leather. "See? Isn't this better than a cold cell?" Ferid gave a theatrical bow, "I welcome you to my humble abode and as long as you are under my roof you are not viewed as livestock, nor a prisoner, you may make yourself at home here and you are my exclusive guest. I'll see to it that your stay here is an unforgettable one" he stood up and looked at you. Your eyes were a bit wide and shocked as this was not what you were expecting and you had a feeling whatever he said wasn't true but it seemed nice that a progenitor bowed to you. "I-uh..okay", his tall figure looked down upon your form, slopped against his couch. " Comfy now are we?" he asked, "Mhm" you said as you looked away.

He returned to the raft about an hour later with a huge, bloated dead squid that had been half torn to pieces. You watched in horror as he began tearing off chunks and putting them onto the raft. He watched your fast breathing and seemed to think that you needed help to learn how to eat. He tore off another chunk and slowly began biting into it and chewing, making sure that you were watching. After finishing his bite, he offered the chunk of flesh to you, humming softly in encouragement for you to take it. He didn’t seem discouraged when you refused, instead leaving the squid for you to eat and returning to circling around your raft like a shark.

You fell asleep that night to the sound of Bruce calling out for his pod. When you woke up, you were surrounded and being poked and prodded. A whole pod of sperm whale mers, both male and female, were either circling you or halfway on the raft as they touched your legs with a mix of curiosity and pity. You were smaller than even the calf, a male with a curious look in his green eyes. They were all whistling to each other and you didn’t need a degree in marine biology to understand what they were saying. They were talking about the messed up calf that their pod leader had found. The calf hadn’t seemed to learn patience yet as he pulled at you to try to get you into the water. He was quickly scolded by the older mers of the pod and gently pulled away from your raft.

From then on, you always had at least two members of the pod with you at all times. They slept surrounding you and usually spent their time trying to interact with you. When the pod went hunting, some stayed behind. There was the calf, who you called Damian, and then at least one babysitter. Damian couldn't hold his breath long enough to hunt on his own and it seemed that they thought the same of you. This time, the babysitter was the second largest male in the pod. He was covered in significantly more scars than any of the others. He shared the same green eyes as the calf and had a patch of white hair on his hairline. You called him Jason.

You liked Jason well enough. He was always particularly gentle with you. He seemed to like floating alongside the rafts and just watching you. He wasn't pushy or aggressive towards you and instead preferred to just watch you. He occasionally brought you small gifts that he found floating in the water. He usually brought you driftwood but once, he found a rubber ducky and seemed excited to give you something so colorful. You were happy to have something familiar. He would quietly chatter at you in his language as he watched you check over all of the different things that he would bring you.

After a few days adrift at sea, you finally became hungry enough to eat what they offered you. The eye of the dead squid stared up at you as Bruce began ripping apart the tentacles for you to eat. You were half starved when you took a chunk from his hand and took a bite. The chewy and unpleasant texture of the flesh distracted you from the overjoyed chirps and coos as the pods celebrated you eating something that they gave you for the first time. Bruce, in particular, seemed exceptionally pleased with you eating. You managed to eat enough to fill your stomach before falling asleep on the raft, the gentle bobbing motion lulling you to sleep easily.

You woke up to a different babysitter watching over you and Damian. You called him Duke because of how regal he looked when you first saw him. He was much more playful and easygoing than most of the others, even the one that you named Dick after he did a flip onto Bruce while he was busy preparing your food for you. You figured that he had some kind of deep sea fish genes from the way that patterns on his skin would glow at night. It was like having a living night light. You were distracted from watching him swimming with Damian when you noticed an oceanic white tip shark mer swimming towards you. You froze when you saw the large mer approaching, knowing that they had a reputation for eating shipwreck survivors. Duke quickly let out a series of loud, rapid clicks as he moved to intercept the other mer.

The shark mer began circling around the raft at a distance and Duke began matching him, still staying between you and the other mer. Damian seemed very upset as he began making loud clicks downwards towards where the rest of the pod was presumably hunting. The shark mer began curiously approaching the raft and once he was only a yard away, Bruce slammed into him from below and launched him up and out of the water.

There was a frenzy of activity as the pod began chasing the offending mer away from the raft. You felt your face being grabbed and you looked over to see one of the few female mers in the pod, Barbara. She seemed very intelligent but her back had a major scar and she had difficulties swimming quickly, likely due to a boat strike. It made sense why she would be the one to stay behind to watch you. Her green eyes stared into yours as she began petting your head and seemingly trying to comfort you. She continued to gently hold your face as she clicked and whistled at you affectionately, still keeping you from looking at what was happening behind you. When the rest of the pod returned and she let go of your face, you saw the massive amount of blood in the water and the lack of injuries to any of the members of the pod.

You were pampered and cuddled half to death for the rest of the day. They were all covered in water but they were warm so you didn't mind too much. Bruce would cuddle you first, then Dick, then Damian, since he threw a tantrum, then Duke, then Jason. Steph and Cass, two of the other female mers in the pod, snuggled up to you on either side, almost sinking your raft. Tim screeched at them when he realized how panicked you were and took his turn cuddling you early after kicking them off of the raft.

The pod was more protective after that. You were left with a minimum of three babysitters whenever the pod left to hunt. The hunters would bring back more squid for everyone and you would be given your portion by Bruce and whoever was babysitting you. You knew that they thought that you were cute based on the way that they treated you. They loved touching you and snuggling you. They tried to play with you with the “toys” that Jason gave you, though Jason would usually get territorial and try to take the toys back to play with you instead.

Eventually, they seemed to get sick of you avoiding the water. You wouldn't go in to cuddle or play with them like a normal calf. They seemed to think that your swimming was worse than Barbara's, which, while true, was for an entirely different reason than an injury. They would try to coax you in and would get extremely frustrated the more that you refused. It evidently got to a breaking point after three weeks of them caring for you.

You had refused to go into the water again. Bruce huffed and dove down beneath the gentle waves. You thought that was the end of it until you felt a jolt on the raft behind you and turned to see what was going on. You began screaming as Damian slashed and bit at the equipment box. Unsurprisingly, it began to fill with water and sink. You screeched and thrashed as you slipped into the water, doing your very best to swim and stay on the surface so that you could breathe. Bruce quickly scooped you up, keeping you afloat and helping you breathe as you sat on his back. The whole pod came together, clicking affectionately as they all touched you and tried to help you feel more comfortable in the water with them. They wanted you to be with them more fully.

[Valentino]

"Sweet coffee for my equally sweet flower girl," extending a cup of expensive coffee, Valentino smiled sunnily at your gloomy look.

"No thanks, I don't need it."

"Is this because of that harmless joke?" the richly dressed "pimp" — as your unfortunate admirer once confessed — sighed disappointedly, looking like a peacock.

Indignantly bulging your eyes and finally leaving the already-finished bouquet alone, you pointed an accusing finger at him:

"Last time you slipped me drugs, Val! Trust me, that's beyond a joke!"

"Where I come from, every other person indulges in them," he wasn't impressed, leaning his hands on the flower shop counter. "Plus, they didn't even work anyway."

Keeping silent about how frantically you bounced on your favorite dildo after the slipped aphrodisiac, you awkwardly clear your throat:

"I don't know what games you're playing, but please don't drag me into this. Why do you even need me?"

"Hell will be boring without you, sweetie. Very boring."

[Asmodeus]

"There's nothing more terrible than a demon's interest in an ordinary mortal woman, my dear," the dark-skinned shaman delivered her final verdict, finishing examining your palm with a cloudy, unreadable gaze. "Have you ever heard the story of poor Sarah from the Old Testament?"

"N-no."

"Abraham's niece was a girl prone to falling in love, of natural beauty. Her charm and grace drove Asmodeus mad with either lust or love," lighting a smoking pipe, the woman exhaled a portion of blue smoke. "And every time she was about to marry, he killed her husbands right on the marriage bed. Exactly seven times."

Choking in a stifled cough, you blinked in amazement:

"And how does this relate to me?"

"You bear the same mark that woman had," pointing at your chest burning with unknown flame, she exhaled hoarsely. "The mark of lust. Be certain, this demon may have retreated once, but now he definitely has no intention of giving up."

[Vox]

Vox In public you pretend to be an innocent little thing, but in reality turned out to be quite the lustful bitch...

Blinking in amazement at the message that came from who knows where, you wipe your hands wet from washing flower vases and with cheeks burning from either anger or shame, hastily type your response.

You I have no idea who you are, but you have no right to throw around these baseless insults.

Vox Simple statement of fact, kitten. After all, even I don't have such a perverted "baggage" behind me.

Your heart treacherously plummeted. Against your will, you wondered if he knew about all the browser tabs with various porn sites and the bill from the online BDSM shop.

A trembling finger timidly froze over the question mark icon:

You ?

Vox Your package with the huge purple dildo. It was delivered to my house.

[Stolas]

"What's our blessed patron sighing about?" noticing Stolas languishing by the tall floral arch in the church courtyard, you smiled warmly. "You know, sadness doesn't suit you at all."

In the glance thrown your way, a poorly hidden pool of guilt splashed:

"About a year ago, on the most terrible day of all, I met a wonderful girl who deserved her happy ending. But... Despite the bright feelings I had for her, I constantly lied. About my origin, work, even my child! All of it filled with the dirtiest and most rotten lies she's ever heard..."

"Stolas... The girl you're talking about," you whisper cautiously after a minute of agonizing silence, gently squeezing his palm. "It's me, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry," he said curtly instead of answering, to which you shook your head negatively.

"It's okay, I still don't believe you're capable of doing something truly terrible," making an unsuccessful attempt at a joke, you laugh carelessly. "You can't possibly turn out to be a demon, ha-ha?"

[Angel Dust]

"What do you mean you summoned me by mistake, baby?" the demon sprawled smugly on your bed, crossing his fingers under his chin in a sardonic smile.

Swallowing at the sticky and simultaneously hot gaze thrown your way, you nervously adjusted the heavy stack of books with questions in your hands:

"I-I wanted a demon of knowledge to clarify some aspects of my research. And in the services you provide, trust me, I have no need."

"Oh, trust me, baby," stretching out, he clicked his tongue. "The knowledge I possess, you need way more than your useless little books."

"And what might that be?" indignant at the insult to your brainchild, you flashed your eyes defiantly.

This is it. That’s how you’ll die.

One of innumerable casualties in the wake of this surreal destruction, caused by no one else than the man you were still helplessly in love with. Well, at least the people responsible for this chaos all wore his stupidly handsome face, though the innocence in his eyes despite everything being long since absent in theirs.

You’re cowering in a corner of the nearest safehouse, huddled in there with countless other civilians as you start to reminisce and regret in the face of doom.

Maybe you should have told Mark about your feelings after all. Not that there ever was an appropriate moment to do so, between his relationship with Amber and Eve seamlessly afterwards. Both were amazing women in their own right, and you could never think of comparing yourself to either of them. But damn it you couldn’t even be mad at those wonderful two, even through all your jealousy.

Mark and you had been childhood friends ever since you had moved into the same neighborhood as a preteen. It was a storybook-like friendship that eventually turned into a one-sided infatuation as you grew older, but not wanting to ruin your friendship you cowardly suppressed them until it was too late.

And when your friend's powers finally awakened, you found the perfect opportunity to end this bond once and for all.

You remember it as if it was yesterday: His face, so full of shock and hurt as you broke out in tears and told him you couldn’t do this anymore. It wasn’t a complete lie.

Being this close to a literal hero made you a walking target, you claimed. Even if you as an individual are insignificant in the greater picture, even if villains wouldn’t try and hurt you to get through to him, conflict seemed to follow him everywhere, so you’ll most likely get into harm’s way at some point.

It was a cheap excuse to hide the pitiful truth that you couldn’t stand to see him build a life with someone else. And in hindsight you hated yourself for having done this. Invinc- Mark had gone through so much already, suffered great losses and was carrying guilt that weighed so heavy it astonished you that he hasn’t yet broken down under all the pressure.

And to add insult to injury, you - one of his closest and most trusted friends - abandoned him out of a selfish hurt that didn’t even make up a fraction of what he felt on the regular.

Enough self-pitying. You’re not the victim here.

If – by any miracle – you survive this, the first thing you’ll do is make things right. Contact him immediately, explain yourself, and promise to overcome this silly crush to be a friend he deserves this time.

But just when you made up your mind, a loud, grating noise cut through your pondering…

…and when you looked up, you were horrified to see the view of a bright night sky.

That meant someone had not only found this place, but also effortlessly tore off the rooftop which was made up of strengthened steel.

For the fraction of a second, when your eyes met all too familiar ones, a naive hope inside of you thought it was your Invincible that had arrived, worried for your safety. But the vastly different costume – covered with blood and viscera - reminded you painfully that again it’s just wishful thinking. A dream that would never become reality, no matter how long you refuse to acknowledge it. This world’s Mark is probably fighting alongside Eve right now, not wasting a single thought about you, and you couldn't blame him.

The Viltrumite scanned the crowd for god knows what, his face falling flat as his gaze fell on you. A flash of recognition flickered in his eyes, just to be replaced by an almost predatory glint.

“Found you!” his tone was oddly cheerful, yet sent a shiver down your spine as you could barely perceive him lunging at you with his sheer inhumane speed. You were sure that now you’ll experience pain beyond your greatest imagination, praying he'd make it quick...

...but much to your surprise the impact never came.

Instead you found yourself high in the air, fighting the nausea rising in the pit of your stomach due to the way too fast ascend. Beneath you the outline of the collapsing safehouse became blurred by darkness and distance, the dust driving tears in your eyes even long after the rubble drowned out everyone's screams.

“He’ll drop me” is the only thought present in your mind, feeling tremendously selfish for not caring about the others whose death you just witnessed. Yes, soon this sociopath will make you fall to your death and laugh at your misery like it’s some kind of wicked game.

And you deserved it either way, didn’t you?

Maybe you disappointed Mark in other realities as well. That must be it, that’s the reason he went out of his way just to find you – to get his revenge for you abandoning him in his darkest hour.

Your first instinct was to scream and lash out at him, and yet you knew trying to oppose a force of nature like him was to no avail. So with no other options you cling to your captor like a lifeline.

Clutching the fabric of his costume in tight fists, you hide your face in the crook of his neck, desperately trying to shun out the reality of your situation. Your behavior earns a low chuckle from the villain, who in return wraps his arms a little tighter around you as he carries you through the sky nearly bridal style.

“Don’t tell me your Mark never brought you flying with him?” he asked nonchalantly, as if any of this wasn’t an absolutely terrifying concept for you. Concerned at your lack of response, he slowed down in midair, gently squeezing your sides. “Hey, it’s okay. I got you. We’re almost there.”

You wanted to ask where to exactly, but your voice failed you each time you tried. So you stayed cradled against his muscular chest like this, trying your best to ignore the way you felt his gaze burning into you even though you refused to open your eyes.

“There we are” he announced, carefully letting you down. And still, as soon as your legs touched solid ground again they gave up and you fell to your knees right away. Initially this foreign Mark wanted to help you, to catch you in his arms once again and reassure you that everything was gonna be alright - but upon seeing tears dwelling in your eyes he knew he had to stop himself, hands falling loosely to the sides and balling to fists in mild frustration.

For a while you remained like this, staring at each other in awkward silence while a storm of conflicting emotions was raging beneath.

“You’re safe here” Mark ultimately spoke, and looking around this place really did seem rather peaceful compared to what you've seen in the news. “The others won’t attack rural areas. We were ordered to destroy main cities and crucial infrastructures mainly.”

“By whom?” The question was burning on your tongue but it died right there, because what does it matter? Knowing wouldn’t make any difference since you couldn’t change the outcome anyways. So instead you ask “Why…why did you bring me here?”

You were already dreading the answer as your mind conjured concerning possible scenarios, however the variant merely gave you a confused puppy gaze that almost made you forget the threat he posed.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He sheepishly rubs the back of his head, avoiding your eyes. “I wanted to get you before the others would."

That sounded more like a subtle threat than a honest reassurance.

“Please…don’t hurt me…” you beg and whimmer, overwhelmed by all the recent events. You’re shaking violently, tears now wettening your cheeks. The mere sight of it - and knowing he’s responsible - shatters what’s left of his rotten heart.

“Wha- of course I won’t-" He nervously paces around, wildly gesticulating as if he's struggling to put his thoughts into words - seems like they all do have similarities after all. "Oh man, sorry. You know I suck at comminicating! Shit, I fucked up the first impression already..."

Continuing to mumbles inaudible ramblings under his breath, he grips a pillar so harshly that it's combined to dust, making you shuffle even farther away from him.

“Nonononono, please don’t be afraid of me!" he yells so loud that you wince, and the fact that he keeps making things worse upsets him even more. "I could never hurt you, I swear!"

The man in front of you looks utterly devastated, and you can't put your finger on why that is or what you have to do with it.

After all, you're no one important, especially to him. Right?

At first keeping his distance, he hesistantly approaches you while simultaneously trying to appear as harmless as possible. Hands raised in a placating manner, voice calm and quiet, he whispers "I'm so, so sorry...I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's- it's okay..." you stammer feebly to appease him, your body still paralyzed by fear. A small squeal escapes your throat as you feel his palm stroke your cheek, the blood sticking to his gloves drying on your skin.

The former hero was watching you intently, face contorting through a mixture of relief and despair. But there was something else about him - the Mark you knew never acted like this. It's probably only your imagination, but he's so...

Before you could finish your line of thoughts, he closes the gap between you and his lips crashed over yours in sheer exasperation. You could feel the heat radiating off of him as he pulled you close, the barely contained strenght of his grip both frightening and thrilling.

"Damn...I keep fucking up" he blurts out, an enamored smile playing on his lips nonetheless. "Sorry for...well, this...got a bit carried away."

It was such a bizarre view: Someone possessing an indescribable strenght, unmatched on nearly the whole universe, being reduced to a stuttering, blushing mess in the presence of a pathetic human.

He was still holding you, without any intent to let you go any time soon, blissfully unaware - or rather ignorant - of how insane this whole situation actually was.

"I always wanted more than friendship, you know?" He confessed this so casually, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world - and opposed to all logic you felt your heart flutter at his words. "But in my world I never had the guts to confess...I was too afraid to lose you completely in case you don’t reciprocate."

You shouldn't feel guilty that you briefly thought back about the Mark you once knew, wondering if he ever felt the same, and yet you did. As if you owed the one in front of you right now some kind of loyality just because he was currently pouring his heart out.

No. Stop. What are you doing here? This isn't right!

The man in front of you is a homicidal maniac who did god knows what to his homeworld, and caused mayhem and suffering across the whole globe without any remorse, just to...

...yeah, why exactly?

As if your thoughts were clearly written on your forehead, he tries to explain himself, expression turning somber as he spoke.

"Back at my world I made some mistakes- no. I did so many irredeemable, atrocious things...and I only understood what truly mattered after I already lost it...after I lost you because of my actions. But I won't repeat those errors again, I swear. I promise I'll keep you safe and sound at my side to cherish you forever..."

You shouldn't feel anything but hatred and disgust at his display, yet you couldn't help but pity this forlorn, broken shell of a man that clutched you like a child would cling to their soothing blanket.

"This world's Mark, he...doesn't appreciat you." His eyes were manic, bordering on pure madness and you felt his fingers possessively digging into your flesh just shy of being painful. "But me, I would erase as many planets as it takes if only it meant being able to hold you like this for another day."

This man was truly a wolf in sheeps clothing - a vicious, instable monster that could snap any time shall your reaction not appeal to his delusions. All that's left for you to do is playing the part and hoping that the remnant of his humanity was enough to postpone a horrible fate.

So instead of answering you quietly sobbed in his vice-like embrace, tears mixing with the stains of death on his costume. You felt him rubbing soothing circles on your back, so tender and tentative you wondered just how long it's been since those hands had inflicted anything but pain.

Who would've thought that getting the one thing you had wished for an eternity could turn into a literal nightmare?

When you think of an island what do you envision? A tropical paradise complete with palm dreams, warm sands, calm waters, the scent of tantalizing foods wafting along the shores as the sound of children at play dances in one’s ears?

Well, that was not the Channel Isles. No, The Channels were full of rough rocky shores, the smell of fresh caught fish dominating the air, wind that bit and howled, the crash of wave on stone, and frequent rains that soaked you to the bone.

Yes, you specifically, you lived here.

And, as most people did there, you made your living by subsisting on the bounty of the moody sea. You would row out on your small boat and cast your net wherever you thought there was food to be found. Luckily, you had no family to feed so you traded away the extra after eating or preserving what you needed for yourself.

Emeri, by contrast, was a merfolk, a merman to be precise, and he had always been warned to stay away from the humans and their nets, and he had listened to this advice diligently.

He had no way of knowing that he would find himself ill and caught by accident.

Caught by you when you had gone further out to sea than you normally would. He had no energy to fight back and his fever made him barely aware of what was happening to him. You were amazed at your discovery, a merman with shark-like characteristics.

Starting a bit above the hips his body was the tail of a fish, smooth looking and covered in the scales of a shark. You could tell he was sick just from looking at his face and pressing your hand to his burning head, his mouth was slack and open revealing two rows of sharp teeth, his long deep blue hair was all over the place, his dark emerald eyes half-lidded, and the skin of his human half was light blue.

Even sick he was beautiful, with a lithe build but with defined muscles.

Under the cover of night you took him back to your home on the shore, hauled him into a tub of ocean water, and carefully fed him and tended to him with herbs that you hoped would worked on a being that seemed at least half human.

And you hoped he lacked a taste for the flesh of humans.

After a few days the fever broke, he remembered everything you had done for him, originally worried you’d hurt him but he was powerless to escape. But to his surprise you tended to him with more tenderness and care than anyone of his own species was likely to have.

You treated him like one of his kind would only treat a beloved family member or perhaps a mate.

The merman, who’s name you learned when he shared more about himself, was very grateful and surprisingly friendly. But something dark and unknown was festering in the depths beneath his jovial exterior.

Emeri was taken back to sea in your boat, not wanting him to just go in from the beach and risk being seen. He stayed near enough that whenever your boat cast out you were sure to see him, he helped you find fish spots and herded fish into your nets, he developed a larger and larger obsession over you. You always shared your catch with him.

One day the shark-man led you further than usual and then further still, promising a hearty school of large fish. When you were close enough to where he wanted you he took control of your boat and pushed it to the cursed isle that your people avoided like the plague. No one would be coming here to happen upon you.

Your shouts of protest went ignored as he beached your vessel, pulled you out, then smashed your boat to bits so you could never leave him.

The island had fresh pools of water that you could drink, caves for shelter along with an old hut, and enough fish around and timber for fires to cook, everything you needed for survival. And his tail was long enough that he could slither about and drag himself around on land, as long as he did not leave the water long enough to dry out.

“Sorry about that,” he said in a chipper tone as if apologizing for something trivial, “Now we can be mates without ever being disturbed!”

You were shouting, cursing, asking him why he would do this, but something made you go silent and back off.

As he pulled himself from the water his toothy grin sent chills down your spine.

Without warning, he launched himself at you, pulling your close off roughly and flipping you into the sand before mounting you as you struggled beneath him.

Two slimy cocks had emerged from his genital slit, large and musky, they pressed insistently at your entrance before slipping into you. Once they found their target he pounded into you with the brutish roughness one would expect from a shark merman.

You whimpered in a torrential mix of pleasure and pain as his cocks rammed into you as he bit various parts of your body. His sharp teeth pricking your flesh enough to draw blood but not do any real damage.

Emeri licked the blood, sucked, and bit at your back and neck as he fucked into you at an increasingly desperate pace. He moaned at your delicious taste as you moaned at the delicious way his cocks filled every inch of your insides.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good. So good. So good.”

He slowed his pace, stopped, and plunged in as deeply as he could, getting his thick cum as far into you as he possibly could. He unloaded himself and filled you so much that your belly bloated with his seed.

You were a sobbing whimpering mess, all pain long since melting into pleasure and fucking you free of your senses.

Emeri immediately flipped you over to face him and began pounding into you anew. He licked up your beautiful tears and drool, bit your neck and chest, kissed you deeply. He couldn’t stay out of you, you came many times as did he, but he couldn’t quit fucking you until he was entirely spent entirely spent. He took you to one of the caves that connected to the sea and had plenty of moisture for him, he cuddled and bathed you while you babbled incoherently, cum leaking from your stretched hole for a long time until you were finally mostly emptied out.

quick au explanation/concept:

Rusty didn't go to the forest that fateful day, he simply ignored the calls and went to bed resulting in a catastrophic change of events, Tigerclaw manages to succeed with his plan and now he's the leader of Thunderclan and he has control over Shadowclan, there's a resistance starting but that doesn't matter right now.

Rusty is around ≈ 25 moons he is living the life of an ordinary kittypet, sometimes venturing into the city but never too far from his home, until one day he starts having strange dreams, the dead clan cat keeps saying that he has to rebuild his clan and fight for the freedom of those who live in the forest, Rusty tries to ignore Clear Sky as much as possible but reaches a point where Clear Sky stops only showing in his dreams and start showing up as an spirit irl, this freaks Rusty out a little and he decides he's going to help Clear Sky, but in his own way. He will recruit kittypets that he knows to try to set up a clan and fight with whatever is the forest.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Yan Pixie who is very tiny and unnoticeable. You always mistake him for a bee or a dragonfly whenever he flies by. It annoys him to no end that you won't ever notice what he really is. He handpicked you to be the object of his obsession. You should be honored that such a magical and rare creature like him is giving you such notice.

Yan Pixie who tries to get your attention by whispering your name in your ear. His voice only sounds like a soothing bell. He finds this out when you explained to a cursed friend that you keep hearing soft dings and chimes when nothing is there. There goes another way of trying to get you to notice him.

Yan Pixie who watches you twenty-four/seven. He tries to match up his agenda to yours. When he's working on his duties as a small, mischevious fairy, you're most likely going to be working too. It's how he lives, and he couldn't be any happier.

Yan Pixie who has his home in your most beautiful and well-taken-care-of flower. He gets so giddy when he sees you watering the flower. Taking care of his home with such gentleness. It's like you know he's living there, so you make sure not to be too rough when pulling weeds. It just furthers his love for you. He daydreams of you taking care of him with the same kind hands you use on your garden.

Yan Pixie who thoroughly enjoys following you around when you explore the forest nearby your home. Especially when you go out to forage for things. He secretly aids you by leading you to the best herbs and everything else you could find. The forest bounty is simply yours if you ask. He knows the forest best, so just trust him. He is tame for the most part, but he can't help but slip into some trickery from time to time. He's just a pixie. It's in his nature!

Yan Pixie who feeds into his more mischievous behavior when he's in a mood. He'll add salt to your pastries, sugar to your soups, and misplace your belongings. He'll even get you lost in the forest if he's upset enough. He's leading you out when it gets too dark to see. He doesn't want you suffering too much.

Yan Pixie who would never intentionally hurt you when he's playing his pranks. If he found that you'd been injured because of him, he wouldn't only cry, but he would also heal your injuries in an instant while you slept. You would be prank-free for the next week because he isolated himself in his flower home.

Yan Pixie who would feel tempted to lead you to a conveniently placed fairy ring so you could be tied to him for eternity. The only thing stopping him from doing so is the fact that leading you around the forest and witnessing the wonder on your face at every find was so cute to him. He didn't want that to stop.

Yan Pixie who has so much inner turmoil around showing his presence to you. Once he does, he can never go back to his true home. Being discovered by a human is against pixie law. But he wanted so bad to connect with you face to face. To be by your side without having to hide.

Yan Pixie who visits his hive one last time. He decided to inform them of you, ranting and raving about how kind and nurturing you were for a human. How you tended to his home back at your cabin without even knowing it. The council members were so shocked to see their Phin be so enamored with another. Without giving any chance to say goodbye, he flew away. Back to your cabin.

Yan Pixie who you finally notice when he sits upon the blooming flower he's made his home. His bell-like voice chimed to get your attention. He becomes so excited when you look at him. You see him. You've finally noticed after all this time. He's so overcome with joy that he flutters over to you. He flies in circles around your head, making you dizzy. He perches himself on your shoulders as he tries to converse with you.

Yan Pixie who seamlessly connects with you despite the language barrier. He discovers so much more about you now that he made himself clear to you. His spot is now your shoulder, watching you go about your day. He's even helping around the garden. Making sure everything becomes a fruitful bounty.

Yan Pixie who helps you more than he ever did. He has you make his favorite meals and loves trying yours. More often than not, your portions end up with small bite-sized pieces missing. He mends your clothing. He cleans the small bits of your home you could never reach. He's so devoted to you. Anything you ask, he's already doing it.

Yan Pixie who creates a form of communication with you. He was dying without you being able to understand what he was saying. So he creates a secret code only for you two to use. It felt so intimate to him. It further feeds this belief in his mind that you two were truly meant to be. You had no need for silly human words when you could talk to him.

Yan Pixie who pranks the people that come into your small cabin. He hates when he has to hide. When you have company over. He hates every single human that isn't you. They're a threat to his peace. To your peace. Don't you see that? So he takes it upon himself to prank them. It's the only way he can chase them away. He doesn't understand when you scold him for doing so.

Yan Pixie who tries to make it up to you by trying to bake something. He pulls out one of your cookbooks but can barely read the words. Cup of flower? You put petals in your baked goods? He tries his hardest to make something, but he ends up making a huge mess. He feels so much guilt when you walk in to see him covered in several misunderstood baking ingredients. You're left to clean up after him while you reassure him that it was the thought that counts.

Yan Pixie who goes out into the forest on his own. He tells you not to follow him when he does. You're just left in the cabin as he zooms off into the tree tops. He collects many forageables. Wildflowers, acorns, seeds, and wild mushrooms. You name it, he found it. He even found wild berries for your next big baking treat. All for a surprise for you.

Yan Pixie who tries to act like a big, scary guard dog. Your guard dog. When he thinks danger is around, he becomes all puffy. He tries to make himself look like a threat. When he hears your giggles when you see him like this, he feels dejected. He's trying his best to protect you. Can't you see that?

Yan Pixie who enjoys celebrating your human holidays. He also loves learning about your customs, too. The hive didn't have many holidays to commemorate big achievements. They only celebrated the hive's founding and when there was a new choosing for the council. His favorite thing is getting to listen to the history of humans and your memories of the celebrations you partook in before. His favorite part about your human traditions is the decorating. He loves helping. He's also hoping that you cherish the new memories you're making with him.

Yan Pixie who tries to tell you about pixie history. As well as the important dates to his culture. But it's quite difficult when the hive is in a different realm where time is difficult to track. Anyway, his favorite thing is your enamored look as he sketches out the battles and territory disputes. You're even taking notes! He wants to cry when you express your desire to help him celebrate the things he's been missing now that he's away from his family.

Yan Pixie who would do absolutely anything for his human. He's your tiny little companion. He adores you more than the sun and morning dew. Nothing would take you away from him, not if he had any choice in the matter. This tiny creature has so much power in his small hand. Nothing will get in his way of loving his favorite human.

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For now you’re stuck, dealing with murderous anthropomorphic robots that want you crammed into a spare suit. All for what it’s unknown to you. You walked back into hell disguised as a dimly lit pizzeria joint and stared at the characters on stage.

Still and unmoving. Looking at the clock, it’s now eleven fifty two. “Just eight more minutes… You deceitful bastards.” Glaring at them, knowing the horrors they've inflicted upon you. Waiting for them to move, yet they never did. Just waiting for the clock to strike twelve was agonizing, your eyes trailed to see Pirate’s Cove tucked away. Farther away from the main gang’s stage.

Rolling your eyes at the out of order sign, your gaze trails to the purple star patterned curtains. The stage was still being taken care of despite years of Foxy being out of commission. “My day shift coworkers have theories… Yet…” This illusive attraction being closed down left people scratching their heads. “Bite of eighty seven this, bite of eighty three that… Can anyone settle on a date..?”

Foxy has been on your ass since the second night and he took great enjoyment out of annoying you the most. You even ask one of the mechanics to check if their AI was screwy or something. After the inspection of Foxy's programming and his inner workings, they were empty handed.

It only further confused you, then again there's probably something neither you nor previous colleagues had not noticed. Regardless Foxy wasn't physically as strong as the others, but he made up for it in speed and trickery. Your mind replays the time you first encountered him.

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The Night Before

After finishing the call, you check Pirate’s Cove. You see the curtains slowly move away. Only darkness lied beyond the curtain. A long snout peaks through, some sharp teeth visibly poking out of its maw. The crappy camera picks up the gold flash from his set of teeth. Foxy’s black nose twitches, sniffing the air as an ominous laugh can be heard through the camera feed. “Stay there, you mangy bastard…”

You decided to check on the others, heeding to the Phone Guy’s words. You checked to see Chica on your right and shut the door at breakneck speed. “Ooph… That wasn’t very nice of ya!” She whined, you huffed at her crocodile tears.

“Bullshit…” A mechanical parrot-like cry catches your attention, flying through the open left door. You looked to see a small green parrot. “No quarter! No quarter for ye!” God you hated this bird more than the other one sitting outside your office.

“Great, another fucking bird that I hate....” You checked the cameras to see Foxy’s face peeking through the curtain. “Me bird’s keepin’ an eye on ya…” Glaring at the metallic parrot. “Don’t say shit.” As the night progressed, they got chattier. Egging you to open the door or flat out chastising you for your potty mouth, it all added onto your stress.

“I’ve gotcha now!!” Your heart leaped out of your chest upon hearing that. Without any time to think, you grabbed Foxy’s parrot and chucked it at the running fox. Smacking it directly in his face, quickly retreating to your office. Shutting the left door, Foxy bangs on the door. Your heart was pumping loudly inside the confines of your chest. “Christ on a bike…”

“Now my siren… Open this door…” Steadying your breath, see that the right side was empty and opened it. “You really are a feast for me eye…” His hook scratching the door, covering your ears from the shrill and unpleasant sound. “Flattery won’t get you far...” Foxy’s laugh seeps through the glass. “Can't a man give words of affection to the one he loves?” After giving him the silent treatment he leaves. Still on edge, but a little less to worry about was more than enough.

"We only just met today…"

"Do you believe in love at first sight..?" Foxy asked, you pondered on that for a bit. The idea a robot like him can feel something like that was strange. The way Freddy and the gang acted human in many different ways goes far beyond their programs. ' I'll have to ask my day shift coworkers today… Maybe the mechanics have answers… God this is way outside of my pay grade. '

One thing's for sure, you definitely didn't expect to get flirted by a robot. It felt jarring to fight for your life whilst one of them just flirts with you. "Christ I don't get paid enough to deal with this shit..." With a huff you resumed your deadly job.

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Present Day

“I hate that stupid fox…” You mumbled, coming back to your unfortunate reality. Hoping after this week is over, you’ll find another job and be far away from these mechanical wack-jobs.

Without further delay you made your way to your personal hell. As your back faces away from the purple curtains, yellow glowing eyes follow your form walking away from their stage. His lanky snout peaks through the curtain as his hook pulls it back. Watching you head to your dinky office.

His ears twitched at the clock ticking down. “You may say that, but in the end my love will consume you…” With an ominous chuckle, the lanky robotic fox retreats back into his stage. Freddy’s blue eyes see Foxy’s retreating form as he looks to the clock.

You’ve lasted almost all of the previous night guards, they knew it was time to put your winning streak to an end. It was the fourth night and you’ve escaped their grasp far too many times for their liking.

The big hand finally clicks onto twelve, it was time for another round to begin. 

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Setting up the cameras, the phone goes off and adhering to tradition you picked it up. “Hello, hello? Hey, you're doing great! Most people don’t last this long.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Raising a brow at his choice of words. In your peripheral vision you do a quick look around seeing where those metallic crackheads are. “I mean, you know, they usually move on to other things by now. I’m not implying that they died. Th–Th–That’s not what I meant…”

‘ I bet he knows damn well people die here… ‘ Gripping the phone tightly, the mere thought puts a pit in your stomach. “…Sure. Anything I need to know before you skedaddle?”

“Ye–Yeah uh, anyway I don’t wanna take up too much of your time. Things are getting real tonight.” His words made you stop dead in your tracks. “What do you mean by that..?” He then starts suggesting you go limp when they catch you, but realizes it might not be a good idea.

“It’s best not to get caught.” You slammed the door in Bonnie’s face. Your heart racing, unsure of why tonight feels different from the last two. You despised the feeling, you needed to live. No one is here to save you.

“Look I’ve checked the building during the day and I have a clue of where I can hide. I can always run… Hopefully…” Turning on the lights, seeing Bonnie gone you open the door. Turning the lights off to reserve your power.

Now you were left all by your lonesome, his words weighed heavy on your mind. Peering up from your computer. Checking the doors and opening them back up, a heaved sigh leaves your lips. This was only the first hour of this shift, yet there's a lingering feeling you couldn't avoid.

At three 'o clock, shit hit the fan as Bonnie and Chica get more persistent, staying on their respective sides for longer. Foxy would go through each phase as time passes by. Unfortunately your power source is going down with Foxy, Chica and Bonnie's aggressive persistence.

Foxy's parrot swoops into your office and starts pestering you. "No quarter for ye! No quarter for ye!" Your eye twitches as you offensively swat at the bird. "Go away! NO–OH YOU BITCH!" Before you can even react, Foxy darts inside and corners you. You attempted to shut the door, but his hook catches the door's edge. Pulling it back up with ease.

His bird perched on his shoulder. "Well we meet again, my siren…" Foxy purred as he stalks towards you, his visible eye staring down at your shrinking form. "Don't try to run, it's gonna be alright…" The cold metal from his hook tilts your chin up. Your voice is caught in your throat, you're practically surrounded with no other way to go.

"I do–don't trust you… You, you… You're just saying that to get me crammed into spring lock coffin..!" Foxy chuckles at your hysteria filled statement. "Is that so?" You bit your lip with a stiff nod.

"Don't frame it like that. Think of it like this, we'll be together and nor time or death will keep us apart." Backing away from him slowly, scrambling to find a way out. Your eyes fall to your desk and see your flashlight.

Hurriedly grabbing your flashlight and aimed it directly into the fox's eyes. "ARRGHH!! ME EYES!!" Squinting his eyes in pain, immediately you sprint past him. Dashing into the hallways as they soon rush after you.

The room was drenched in darkness, not a light in sight. Crouching down you listened for their voices and as their footsteps draw ever closer, you're saved by the bell. Their hurried voices break the tension as they quickly resume their positions back on their stages.

Unwilling to move, you waited and heard an ear piercing scratch against the glass. Biting your lip hard, nearly tasting your own blood, trying to silence yourself from verbally vocalizing your pain. "Wherever you are my dear… Know that next time, you won't be so lucky." With that said, Foxy walks off and whistles a tune.

You slowly crawled out of your hiding spot, hurriedly clocking out to get yourself to get to safety out of this hellhole. Foxy watches from afar, seeing you frantically trying to escape. He knows you're delaying your inevitable fate, for now he'll have to settle for scheming for tomorrow's shift.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

The fourth shift was a blur as you left arm had a nasty cut. You can vividly remember that exact moment. Foxy towered over you licking the blood off his hook. The smell of your blood, his glowing yellow eyes and all it filled you with dread. Didn't help that you received a phone call where your coworker was murdered over the phone. Guilt and dread were tightly linked as you went home.

Nightmares plagued your sleep, unable to get rid of the thoughts of metal skewering through you. Screaming until your vocal cords gave out, but no one came. Completely at the mercy of a robot, who's hellbent on stuffing you in a suit. Waking up with a sweat, you checked for missing calls and received nothing. With a huff you looked at the clock, it was about time you faced the root of your nightmares.

In your dank office, the phone rings once again. Signaling the start of your cycle with the sick illusion of familiarity. You internally debated with yourself over answering the phone. With a shaky hand, you picked up the phone and a voice you've despised hearing. "Seems you've made it to the grand finale, my siren…"

Your posture stiffens, blood starts to boil and your patience thins. "What is this some sick fucking joke?!" Gripping the phone with an angered force. "Easy there, my siren…" He laughed, as if any of this was remotely normal. He acted so human yet so monstrously. "You killed my coworker, then gave me a nasty cut and you want me to calm down?!" The fox merely laughs softly about your degrading mental health.

"He was getting a wee bit too close for me liking…" You scoffed at his half assed answer. "Don't bullshit me. We weren't that close at all, now answer me why do all of this?" You soon took noticed that the others aren't attacking quite yet. Unwilling to take any chances you kept up your guard.

"Well? We have all night and I'm dying to hear what your answer is Foxy." Foxy hums as he finally replies. "Because I love you and want to keep you safe. Here I thought it was obvious." You felt is as if you were about to burst a blood vessel. "Are you fucking serious?" Barely unable to contain your fury. "My siren I never joke about things of that manner. Once a pirate has set his sights on his treasure, he'll stop at nothing to get it."

' Was he always programmed this way..? Or was he corrupted in some way, either way I'm baring the brunt of his unwavering obsession… ' The stakes were through the roof, your life was hanging on a wire. You've always been hyper aware of the fact they're stronger than you, but you still managed to survive in the end. Yet you had a feeling that tonight was much more different.

"Still there, my siren?" You shook away your nihilistic thoughts. "Unfortunately," Foxy continues with. "I bet you're wondering where the other landlubbers went…" The question that once lingered in the background of your mind was now fished up. "What exactly are you planning?"

Foxy lets out a laugh, it sent chills down your spine. "I thought it'd be nice for us to spend quality time together." You cringed at his delusional framing of this entire situation. "How romantic."

Soon the game of cat and mouse, you were prepared this time. Especially for when the power nearly goes out, Foxy continues to not let up. Pounding at the door, dashing around the pizzeria. All to drive you into a corner, using the flashlight to blind him. You swiftly duck under him and made a mad dash for a hiding spot.

Once inside in Parts and Service room, you squeezed into your chosen hiding place. It was underneath a shelf, you managed to loosen the bolts to effectively crawl inside the vent to become undetectable. Clicking your flashlight off you hear his hurried footsteps, running around to find you.

He whistles a familiar tune, as you hear doors slam open. Along with his disgruntled complaints, you curled further into the vent as you closed it. Soon Foxy enters the room, his feet and ankles visible from your hiding spot.

"Do you really think you can hide from me forever, my siren?" Foxy asked, you steady your breathing. Your heart thumping wildly inside your chest, sweat beaded down your temples.

"Please return to me, my siren…" Foxy pleaded as you listened attentively for any movements. You heard a loud shriek of the metal shelf above you being pushed to the side. Your eyes widened in horror. Tools and bolts thrown across the floor as the tall, lanky fox crouches down to meet your fear induced gaze.

"Though you were clever? My siren you wound me so…" You immediately tried backing into the vent further as he tears the vent grate off the wall. His large, clawed hand catches your wrist. You screamed, attempting to loosen yourself free. He merely laughs, pulling you out of your hiding spot. In your struggle, you hit your head against something and are soon rendered unconscious.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Clinks and clanks fill the silence, Foxy prepares the suit as his crew strapped you down. You groggily wake up as a bright light blinds your dizzy vision. "…Uggghh.. What the fuck..?" The leather around your wrists and ankles tightens. Foxy is crouched over something as he and Freddy conversed over something. Only hearing bits and pieces of the conversation.

They muttered the word suit, it triggers you into overdrive. Trying desperately to try and free yourself. "…no no Nonono.. NO!" Bonnie and Chica try to calm you down, but it failed miserably as you continued to cry out in horror. Metals clinks and your raw screams fill the the once silent room. Foxy huffs as he makes his way towards you, his yellow eye looking down at your tear drenched face. "Please… Don't do this… We'll be in so much trouble if you do this…" Attempting to appeal whatever humanity was left in his programming.

His furry paw gently wipes your stray tears away. "You need to be completed, that's all and we can finally be together…" It further confused you. "Wh–What do you mean, Foxy you're not making a lick of sense!"

"You're not in a suit, you're not complete. Simple as that." It clicked in your head. His program is screwy, that's certain. "But why me?"

"I need you, I've been alone for ages… Yet you make me feel complete, I want to make you feel the same."

"BY STUFFING ME INTO A METAL DEATH TRAP?! DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF?!" He shrugged your concerns off. "Isn't it natural to want to seal the deal with your one and only? I may not have a ring to gift you, but this is the next best thing."

' There's no way… No fucking way he's equating to killing me as the same as being engaged. ' He soon disappears from your view as he pulls out a mask with intricate mechanisms. It was definitely a much the dreaded spring locks you've heard to death about from your coworkers.

As your scream pierces into the night, no one is listening or able to intervene. Your luck had finally dried up. Metal rods and blades sink into your skin as the metal claws clamps into your flesh and some breaking bones. Puncturing your various vital organs, Foxy watches intently as your humanity is slowly stripped from you.

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' How long was I out..? What happened..? ' You tried to get up only to crumple down as you let out a cry of pain. Suddenly the overwhelming emotions and sensations come back to you. Foxy enters the room, rage begins to bubble inside you. Your eyes stiffly followed the red fox.

"Oh you're awake, it'll take a good while for you to get used to your new body…" He crouched down to meet you at eye level. You desperately wanted to tear that robot into unrecognizable pieces, but the pain outweighed it. Foxy sits beside you, cuddling up against you as if this was a domestic situation. Just another instance of him trying to gain a semblance of humanity.

"I know you must've been lonely, but fear not, my siren…" His arm rested on your shoulders, his head rested against your head. "I had to clean up to make sure, you won't be taken from me…" You felt your entire world shatter as Foxy single-handily ripped the rug from under you. You tried to speak, but all you could do was cough up blood. Foxy quickly gets something to wipe the blood away, you felt how torn up your vocal cords are. Along with how cramped you felt in this new body if you can call it that.

"Don't worry about moving for now… I'll take care of you, my siren. Hopefully I'll be able to hear your voice again soon…" His words left you beyond furious and yet you felt your feelings start to become numb. His paw gently pats your suit's head in a soothing manner. It did little to put you at ease.

As much as you wanted to scream until, your vocal cords went raw. You immediately understood how pointless it was to struggle now, this was it for you.

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜!! 𝘼𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩!! 💖

𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙧 𝙎𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝 [𝙂𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙏𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙩 𝙏𝙞𝙚𝙧]

𝘼𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙𝙙𝙖𝙙123 [𝙎𝙞𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙩 𝙏𝙞𝙚𝙧]

𝙅𝙖𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠 [𝙎𝙞𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙩 𝙏𝙞𝙚𝙧]

You're squinting at the local paper when your best friend comes up behind you and slings his arm across your shoulders. He plucks the paper out of your hand and scoffs at the headline.

"Chickens found dead at McKinnly farm? No one should be surprised by that. Old McKinnly doesn't even have the coop properly fenced in."

"Hey! I wasn't done reading that."

He balls the paper up and tosses it into the dustbin with a smooth overhead throw.

"You are now. C'mon y/n, don't tell me you're buying into all this werewolf business too?"

Your best friend towers over you, every inch of him well bred, football star muscle. You have to crane your neck to properly glare at him.

"Don't be ridiculous. It's just sensational nonsense."

"Oh yeah? So you ain't scared of a big bad wolf breaking into your bedroom one night?"

It's your turn to scoff. "That's a pervert, not a wolf. How's a wolf even supposed to open a window?"

The school bell rings before he can give you an answer.

He groans. "I've got extra practice again tonight. Will you come watch me? We can get pizza after."

You grin. "Breaking News! Star quarterback needs his favourite cheerleader around to make life bearable."

He flicks your forehead. "Damn right I do. So whatcha say?"

"Sure. Someone's gotta be around to keep you on your toes."

It's only when he's long out of sight that you remember - you're one night away from the full moon.

He destroys his team mates at practice. When he's pounding down the field, head down and his fingers curled like claws around the ball, he almost looks inhuman.

After practice, he catches you before you can scramble away and rubs his sweaty face all over you.

"Ewwww." You shove him at him unsuccessfully. "You do that every time! It's so gross!"

"Gotta be faster than that squirt," he laughs.

By the time he's done in the locker room, you've already ordered pizza for the both of you.

You head up to the overlook, his old Mustang growling down the highway.

The overlook is exactly what it sounds like - a hill high over town with a great view of the twinkling streets far below. It's a clear night, and the almost full moon casts a silvery shadow over everything.

He slings his arm across the back of your seat and complains when you pick the olives off your side of the pizza.

"God, I hope your taste in men is better than your taste in pizza."

"My taste in men and pizza are equally questionable, thank you very much."

He laughs, "At least you're self aware. Speaking of guys, I know Murrey from Algebra asked you to prom, and Dave from Homeroom."

You groan. "How did you even hear about that?"

"I've got ears like a wolf." He turns to face you. "What did you tell them?"

"I said no. You and I go together every year."

"Atta girl." He sounds pleased.

You offer him some of your discarded olives and he bites them straight out of your fingers.

"Y'know, lots of girls were awfully disappointed you didn't ask them. When are you gonna get yourself a girlfriend, mister star quarterback?"

He leans down and ruffles your hair. "I got you in my life, don't I? That's plenty."

Eventually, his arm finds it's way to your shoulder, and he pulls you against his side. He's warmer than you and when you curl up against him, he smirks and says that's what you get for being hopelessly under dressed.

There's an old love song on the radio and you fall asleep with your hand knotted in his jacket.

He drives home extra slow and when he shakes you awake, his hands linger on your waist.

You rub your eyes groggily. "Goodnight mister wolf."

You're already halfway up the driveway before he replies, his voice too soft to hear.

"Goodnight little lamb."

On the night of the full moon, you wake up to a cloudy sky and your dog scratching at your bedroom door to be let out.

You struggle into your slippers and mutter about better toilet training. When you open the back door, he slips past your legs and shoots off into the trees. Yawning, you rest your elbows on the porch railing and try not to fall asleep.

It's only when you hear him yelping that you come awake fully.

"Cruiser? What's wrong boy?"

The street lights reach all the way to the edge of your lawn but the trees beyond are black dark. You make you way down carefully, your sense of unease growing with every whistle he ignores.

Your dad left his old wind up torch near the shed and you grab it. It whirs to life with a dull flicker.

Cruiser is whimpering louder now. You follow the sound of it, ducking under branches and trying not to slip in your flimsy slippers.

The clouds clear and for a minute or two, the forest is bright enough that you barely need the torch. You find Crusier backed up against a tree, his tail tucked between his legs. He ignores you when you call him, staring out into the dark and whining like you've never heard before.

"What's wrong boy? What's out there?"

You can't help the fear you feel. Your dog is hard to scare and you've never seen him this frightened.

Twigs snap in the gloom and you swing your torch around wildly. You try and tell yourself that it might be a deer, wandering in from the deep forest. But all you can think about is the local paper.

"Chickens torn apart. Vet suspects large wolf on the prowl."

But it can't be here, right? You're practically on the main road. You reach down and grab Cruiser's collar, your heart racing. The dog barely acknowledges you when you tug on it.

"Heel Cruiser. C'mon boy."

You try and whisper, but your voice comes out high and nervous. His whimper changes into a low growl that vibrates through his collar.

That's when the moon comes out again. And you see the werewolf.

It's coat is dark and thick, and it's crouched halfway behind a tree. Less than twenty feet away.

How the hell did it get so close without you hearing it?! Adrenaline slams into you and your heart skips into overdrive. You turn on your heel and run.

The funny thing about adrenaline is the way your own body takes control. You duck under branches before your conscious mind even realises they're there. You run faster than you ever thought possible, trees streaking by in black blurs.

You hear footsteps behind you but you can't tell if it's Cruiser or the wolf. You don't bother checking. You just keep your head down and sprint like the Devil is on your heels. Hell, he might be.

The werewolf catches you just as you break out of the tree-line. It slams into you from the side and sends you sprawling.

As you scramble to your knees, you get your first good look at the terror of the town. It's bigger than any wolf you've ever seen. Closer to the size of a small grizzly, with the thick fur to match. It's down on all fours, but it's forelegs are unusually long. It's paws are strangely misshapen and for a second, they look almost like hands. It's body feels more ape than wolf.

Oh, but it's teeth are all canine. All sharp, curving fangs, shining with spit.

It sniffs the air and with a start you realise that you're bleeding. Your palms are sliced up from trying to cushion your fall. Blood, you think numbly. Blood is supposed to make carnivores more aggressive. Whett their appetite.

Staring up at its drooling maw and narrowed eyes, you find it hard to believe anything could be more bloodthirsty.

It lunges for your throat and if it weren't for Cruiser, you'd be dead.

The dog shoots out from the forest, barking loud enough to wake the neighbourhood. He jumps at the creature's back, sinking his teeth into the fleshy muscle where neck and shoulder meet.

The werewolf roars.

It reaches up and tears Cruiser off with one nasty yank. Your dog thuds into the ground with an ugly cracking sound.

You scream - half terror and half rage. Cruiser is trying to stand, but can't manage it. One paw hangs uselessly. Oh, your poor, brave dog.

You act without thinking.

You lunge forward and punch straight at the werewolf's nose. It's hard and wet, and your fist keeps going even after contact. His teeth leave shallow cuts on your knuckles.

The werewolf yelps. Like a kicked puppy.

It backs away a few steps before lowering it's head and snarling. It gears up for another pounce.

That's when your daddy shoots it. The blast from his shotgun knocks the werewolf right out of the air.

It crashes down and scrambles to its feet. Its head swings wildly between you and your father. It growls one final time before turning on its heel and bounding into the trees.

How the hell could it even stand after a blast like that? You shudder, your eyes fixed on the trees.

You can hear your dad on the phone, frantically reporting to the Sheriff's office. You sink to your knees next to Cruiser. He draws his eyes up to yours and whines.

"My brave boy..." You stroke his head with the back of your hand and accidentally stain his fur with blood. "I'm so sorry. I'm so damn sorry."

He cranes his neck and licks the tears off your cheek. Just like when he was a puppy. You laugh, high and hysterical. And once you start, you can't stop.

Somewhere in the forest, the wolf howls.

You can't sleep at all after that. And when the Deputies question you, it takes almost all night. They don't believe you entirely, but the tracks their dogs pick up are strange enough to garner a few nervous looks.

You're on the porch, clutching a warm drink and watching the sunrise, when your best friend finds you.

He sweeps you up in a crushing hug, his cheek pressed firmly against your hair.

"Are you okay? I came as soon as I heard."

You pull away, confused. He cups your face in his hand and gently twists it left and right, scanning for any cuts or bruises.

"What? Who told you?"

He cooks his head. "You did. A few minutes ago."

Did you? You don't remember calling him. But you're tired and frightened. Maybe you just can't remember everything.

He sits you down on the porch swing and carefully inspects your palms while you tell him what happened.

"It wasn't a wolf. You believe me right? I saw it clear as day."

"You were pumped up on adrenaline and fighting for your life. You can't be sure what you saw." He sighs, "Maybe it was a wolf or maybe it was a bear or maybe it was some exotic animal that we've never heard about. But really y/n, it sure as hell wasn't a werewolf."

"Yeah... but..."

In the daylight, werewolves and horror feel silly. Illogical. You aren't a kid anymore, you shouldn't be letting your imagination run wild. There's definitely a reasonable explanation.

But every time you think about it, the more sure you feel. That creature was nothing normal or logical at all. It was wrong. Anatomy all out of proportion, eyes too bright and aware, the smell of it more like human sweat than dog musk.

No, you didn't imagine any of it. It wasn't a wolf at all.

"How's Cruiser doing?"

You take a sip of your drink and try not to cry. "Not good. The emergency vet came by and rushed him to surgery. Multiple broken bones they say, maybe some internal bleeding."

He sucks in a breath. "Oh y/n, I'm so sorry."

He opens his arms and you curl up against him gratefully. His letterman jacket is soft against your skin and the smell of him envelopes you.

"I still remember the day you got him for me," you say.

He rubs soothing circles across your back.

"He was such a runt back then. All eyes and big floppy ears. When you pulled him out of your jacket, I didn't realise he was a puppy. I thought you got me some weird stuffed teddy."

He laughs. "I tried putting a bow on him y'know. But he kept tryna bite my fingers off."

You laugh too. "I could never figure out why he didn't like you."

"Jealousy I say. Didn't want me to steal you away."

You punch his arm, smiling. "You're the only guy who'll compete with a dog for my attention."

"If that's what it takes. Put a leash on me right now if you want."

You scoff and curl up closer against him. "I would but they don't come in your size big guy."

You're too tired to notice the bruise on your best friend's nose, or the way he flinches when you touch his side. For a little while, you make the awful mistake of forgetting about the beast.

Prom comes faster then you expect. Your dress gets measured and tailored and steamed. You spend days practicing different hair styles. Cruiser limps around behind you, whining for treats like he wasn't touch and go just a month ago. The moon grows thin and then round again.

When you pull up at your best friend's house, his parents are on their way to a party of their own. His mother gives you a peck on the cheek and says you look stunning and to not forget the keys when you leave.

You laugh and wave them off and almost forget about the full moon streaming through the trees.

The house is quiet and you make your way to his room, your heels hanging from your fingers.

"Hey princess!" You knock on his door. "Are you ready yet? I'm coming in!"

You open the door to an empty room, his tux still on its hanger.

"Oh. My. God. How are you still not done?"

You can hear the shower running and you pound at the door. "We're gonna be late! I swear I'm going to kill you when you get out of there."

No response.

"Hey! I know you can hear me!"

Still nothing.

You try the handle and the door swings open a crack. Steam billows out and you slap a hand over your eyes before you can see anything too revealing.

"Hurry it up! We're gonna miss all the good songs if you don't get dressed soon. Do you really wanna slow dance to something Mr Jared the gym teacher picks out?"

You hear the slap of footsteps on wet tile and breath a sigh of relief. "Did all that football practice knock your ears outta wack? I've been yelling at you since I got here."

Something growls, low and deep.

Your eyes shoot open and you step back. But you're still too slow to react and the werewolf leaps at you. Its heavier than a man and you tumble to the floor together, its paws pinning you down by the shoulders.

Its snout is right in front of your face, almost touching your nose. Lips curl away from awfully long fangs.

It growls almost like a man, almost like it's saying, "Mine."

You scream, kicking and tossing and failing to get away. It's claws prick holes in the satin of your dress and draw little beads of blood.

You scream your best friend's name, terrified that the beast got him too. You're going to die, you think desperately, you're going to die and your poor mother won't even be able to refund your prom dress. If you weren't screaming, you might have laughed.

But the monster doesn't kill you.

Instead, it licks the tears off your cheek. Just like Cruiser did a month ago. It growls again, but the sound is lighter. Pleased almost.

You grow still, confused and terrified of provoking it. Your best friend's room is cluttered with football gear - trophies and jerseys and signed helmets. The moon shines dully off all of it. And you're in the very centre, with a monster pinning you to the ground.

The moon dips behind a cloud and the werewolf changes right before your eyes. Hair and snout receding, his eyes darkening from wolf amber to warm brown.

It's only his teeth that stay the same. All sharp points that peak through his lips.

Your best friend is on top of you, totally naked and still warm from the shower.

"I didn't want to hurt you y/n, I swear."

His voice is lower somehow, like the wolf's growl is just under the surface.

You're too shocked to move. Too shocked to scream. This must be a dream. It's too surreal to be real.

He leans down and kisses you on the cheek. "I wanted to tell you. But it would have sounded crazy. I grow claws and teeth on the full moon? I heal faster than I used to? I can smell when you're ovulating and when you're on your period?"

He pulls back and tilts his head. "When we were kids, we promised we wouldn't keep secrets. And now you know."

"You...you were outside my house that night."

He laughs. "I'm outside your house every night dummy. That was just the night you caught me."

"Why?"

He shakes his head the way he always does when you say something dumb. "To keep you safe. To keep other animals away from you. To protect you, like I said I would."

His hands slip from your shoulders to your waist. "But now you know."

He grins, his teeth awfully sharp. "Now I can make you just like me."

He holds you down and kisses you and nips at your neck hard enough to draw blood. And when the clouds clear from the moon, you feel your teeth start to lengthen.

For five years as a wilderness ranger, you’d learned that a quiet forest was a terrified one.

You adjust the strap of your bolt-action rifle. You’d been out here for forty-eight hours tracking what you thought was a particularly sadistic poaching ring.

It started with the deer, then the elk. Last week, it was a three-hundred-pound black bear found twenty feet up in a hemlock, its pelt shredded and its entire spinal column removed with surgical, cauterized precision. No local hunter had that kind of gear.

You push through a dense thicket of mountain laurel and freeze.

The smell hits you first, iron and bile, thick enough to coat the back of your throat.

​It isn't an animal this time.

​In the center of the clearing lies a mound of raw, red meat. You recognize the boots first, the heavy, steel-toed tread of the local poaching scum you’d been trying to catch for months.

They hadn't just been killed; they had been processed. Their skins were piled neatly to the side like discarded rugs, and their headless torsos were stacked in a grotesque, mocking monument.

​"Jesus," you whisper, the word dying in the oppressive air. There are no footprints. No tire tracks. No signs of a struggle. Just a silent, impossible massacre.

You reach for the radio on your shoulder, your fingers trembling as you click the mic.

​"Station Four. I have a 10-54 at the North Ridge gorge. Multiple human casualties. Extremely high level of violence. Do you copy? Over."

​Only static greets you. A dry, empty hiss.

​Your heart sinks. You’d forgotten. The main relay tower at the base was scheduled for a hardware swap today. A total tech blackout for the next six hours.

You are miles from the nearest trailhead, and the only people who knew where you were are currently rotting in a pile at your feet.

​A sharp click-clack echoes from the canopy above. ​It’s a rhythmic, mechanical sound, like giant insects grinding their mandibles.

You spin, bringing your rifle up, but the trees are a blur of autumn gold and deep shadows. Then, you see it: a ripple in the air. A distortion, like heat rising off a summer road, moving with impossible fluidity between the branches.

​It isn't a man. And it definitely isn't a bear.

You don’t wait to see it clearly. You turn and bolt.

​The four-mile hike in had taken you hours; you try to make the return in minutes. Your lungs burn, and the forest seems to shrink around you. Every time you glance over your shoulder, the shimmer is there, always at the periphery, leaping from trunk to trunk.

If it wasn't for the panic, you would have noticed it hasn't attacked you.

It's almost as if it's herding you. Steering you away from the open ridges and deeper into the jagged, rocky throat of the valley.

​You finally break through the final treeline, your breath coming in jagged sobs.

Your white ranger truck sits in the middle of the gravel turnout, a beacon of safety in the dying light. You scramble to the driver’s side, fumbling your keys, and shove them into the ignition.

​Click. ​

You try again.

Click.

"No, no, no... please," you whimper, slamming your hand against the dash. You throw yourself out of the vehicle and yank the hood release.

​The engine bay is a hollowed-out cavern. The heavy iron block has been ripped clean from the chassis. The remaining wires have been meticulously braided together into an intricate, mocking knot.

​A cold realization douses your adrenaline. A bear destroys. A mountain lion kills. But this... this was deliberate. It required thumbs. It required a sense of irony. It required a mind that understood exactly how to trap a human being.

​Whatever had been hunting, you wasn't a "thing." It was a who.

​A heavy, metallic thud makes the truck groan.

It stands over seven feet tall, clad in dark, oil-rubbed bronze plating. You find yourself cataloguing it through the lens of your training, trying to find a box to put it in.

Your brain instinctively reaches for human parallels. The frame is towering, but the proportions; the massive breadth of the shoulders, the narrowing of the waist, the corded, heavy musculature of the thighs. It’s a humanoid frame but scaled to a god-like, terrifying degree.

Your mind, desperate to make sense of the predator, involuntarily assigns a gender to the sheer, aggressive mass of the form.

​He. This isn't an "it" anymore. He is standing right in front of you.

​You jerk your rifle up, the barrel shaking as you aim for the dark, faceless metal mask. But before you can pull the trigger, a clawed hand reaches out and grips the steel barrel of your gun.

He then gives a sharp, brutal shove against the weapon, the force of it slamming the butt of the rifle into your shoulder and pinning you against the side of the truck.

The air is driven from your lungs in a sharp wheeze. Your vision swims, your fingers going numb as you gasp for breath.

Seeing your grip loosen, he casually jerks the rifle from your hands and tosses it into the dark pines like it’s a piece of refuse.

​Now, he invades your space. He steps closer, his massive frame blocking out the last of the sunset. He’s so close you can smell the ozone and musk rolling off him.

Your hands fly up instinctively, palms flat against his chest plates to push him back, but it’s like trying to move a mountain.

Your fingers slide over the etched metal and the warm, pebbled skin of his midsection. He’s solid. Unbothered even. And he's standing so close you can hear the strange, heavy rhythm of his breathing.

​A small, choked sound escapes your throat. You’ve spent your career being the one in control of the wilderness, the one with the badge and the gun.

Now, stripped of your tools and trapped in the shadow of something that doesn't belong in your world, that control shatters. You feel small. Not just in height, but in the entire biological food chain.

​He reaches up, disengaging the clamps on his head, and pulls the mask away.

Beneath the metal, his face is a terrifying landscape of leathery skin and four giant, hooked mandibles. His amber eyes aren't the mindless eyes of a shark; they are bright, intelligent, and currently fixed on you with a heavy, predatory focus.

​"Please," you whisper, the word trembling. It’s a useless plea, but your brain is misfiring, caught between the urge to scream and the paralyzing realization that he hasn't killed you yet.

​He doesn't snarl. Instead, he leans down, his head tilting with a cruel, feline curiosity.

You try to flinch away, but there is nowhere to go. You’re forced to endure the sensation of his mandibles clicking softly as they fan out, framing your face.

​The tip of one serrated hook brushes against your cheek. It doesn't break the skin, but the intent is clear, he’s touching you because he can.

​A deep, tectonic purr starts in his chest. It’s a low-frequency rumble that vibrates through your own ribcage, making your knees go weak.

You feel a sudden, dizzying rush of heat that has nothing to do with fear; it’s the sheer, primal intensity of being the sole focus of something this powerful.

You’re braced for the end.

For the blade or the bite.

But it doesn’t come.

Achingly slowly, he steps back, granting you a dizzying pocket of space. You slump against the truck, your legs shaking so violently you have to grip the door handle just to stay upright.

​He stands there in the twilight, a towering silhouette of bronze and mottled skin. He watches you scramble for your dignity, his amber eyes tracking the way you frantically look toward the dark woods, then back to your hollowed-out truck.

He’s made his point. Whatever that point may be.

​With a slow, deliberate movement, he reaches down and retrieves his mask from the dirt. He shakes the forest floor's debris from the metal, the red lights of the visor flickering back to life.

He doesn't put it on immediately. He looks at you one last time, a look of dark, expectant promise.

​He raises the helmet. From the vocal emitters in the neck, a sound emerges.

​"Go on then."

The blood freezes in your veins because to your utter shock, it isn't a mechanical recreation. It’s your voice. It’s the exact weary, impatient tone you’d used two days ago when shooing a stubborn elk off the trail.

And just like that, with the languidly of a lion in his terrioty, he simply turns and leaps, his massive frame vanishing into the canopy with the silence of a ghost.

​You stand alone in the gravel, the silence of the Ridge returning, heavier than before.

You’re "free" to walk away, to hike the miles back to civilization in the dark, but you know it’s an illusion.