Chapter 13

  (𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬)
Gore, Slight Dub-con NSFW/Smut.
Please refrain from reading if it makes you feel uncomfortable.
The beginning and end of it will be marked by “†”  

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

How many days has it been?

Everything seemed to pass by in a blink of an eye, yet somehow felt so slow like a snail trailing off a distance.

Icy plumes of breath unfurled from your lips as you hunched your head low, desolation and a twisted sense of contentment mingling within your veins.

How long have you been entrapped here? No, is… entrapped even the right word for this cruel predicament that you’re in?

A twisted corner of your soul loved this gilded cage after all. You loved the embrace of his arms and  the dulcet cadence of his voice breathing your name.

But the hallucinations that bothered you haven’t really stopped either.

Fuck, this is all really confusing.

You felt homesick; as much as you hated the settlement—and hated the way it treated you and made you suffer, a twisted part of you missed it. 

Specifically Theo and even… What was her name again? There was a woman you once have grown fond of there, but you never quite remembered her name now.

Yzrivis treated you here pretty much well, yet it never quite sufficed because a nagging suspicion always lingered in your mind: What if the comfort he’s giving you is being carefully rationed and administered like a drug to condition you into obedience?

It just makes sense because your memory is starting to cloud—you’d started losing hold of names, of faces—and… only Theo’s image remained steadfast.

But even then, you don’t remember how you met him anymore—nor how you two became friends; all you knew is that you two were best friends.

Not because your brain remembers him, no; it’s your heart that remembers him—Theo had his name engraved in it—but even then, it felt as though Yzrivis is slowly carving Theo’s name out of the pulps in your heart to replace it with his.

To replace everyone who has a place in it. And in that case, the only one who you actually loved was Theo.

But each time this insidious thought dared to surface, a searing throb ignited within your brain, accompanied with the painful  pulsing beneath the eye socket that has been empty ever since… when?

When did you lose it again…? Why did you lose it again?

Was it Yzrivis’ who’s done that—or was it you? Because you vaguely remembered him telling you that it was you who did that to yourself—and has only reaped the bitter harvest of what you sown.

You never questioned it; why would you? 

Everytime you wondered if Yzrivis’ was responsible for your misery,  the doubt would swiftly dissolve into a corrosive tide of self-reproach until your thoughts fogged over and over again until the question itself felt cruel.

How could you think something so vile about him? After everything he’d given you? Everything he’d done for you?

“—What are you thinking about now?” 

Ah. Shit, as the saying goes, speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Since when did he come back? You thought he was busy doing his godly duties or something.

“I’m tired,” you murmured, weariness coloring your voice.

“I feel… so alone.” Your fingers curl against your knees, nails digging crescent moons into your skin. “And I—”

“You what, hm?”

Don’t make me say it, Yzrivis.

You felt his breath roll over your skin like velvet-warm fog, sinking into every tiny ridge of your neck as though he meant to brand you with nothing more than air. 

Ah. Fuck it. It’s pointless to resist.

“I m-miss you…. Fuck, I miss you so much…”

A low pleased hum emerged from his throat, his lips grazing the side of your neck, a touch both reverent and proprietary.

“You miss me?” he murmured as his mouth drifted upward, placing a soft kiss just below your jawline.

“Good.”

“I do… but…I… I miss Theo, too.” The name slipped out before you could stop it, a reflexive ache you hadn’t yet learned to suffocate, and you felt his fingers still.

“Oh?” Yzrivis raised an eyebrow as his smile widened. “You miss him? How unfortunate.”

Oh, why are you so cold when I mention him, Yzrivis? Why? You bit your lip.

Is he… still jealous of Theo despite you already making it clear that you only love him platonically?

“You only need me; stop searching for comfort elsewhere. That’s my role.” 

His hand drifted upward, fingers curving to cup your jaw, gently but firmly turning your face just enough so his gaze caught yours from the periphery of your vision.

But no man is an island, You protested mentally.

“Be careful, little wolf” he whispered, tone gentle but thrumming with possessiveness. 

“Don’t let your heart wander too far from its owner.”

Ah… there it goes again.

He owns you, you don’t need anyone else, why won’t you just listen? Your brain supplied, halting the protest that dared to even formulate.

Stop resisting.

“I understand…” You muttered reluctantly—though, paradoxically, the submission seemed to delight him.

I’m sorry for even considering otherwise.

“As you should.”

“I—”

The words snagged in your throat as he bridged the space between you, his mouth claiming yours in a fervent press.

I—Hah? Is he…? He’s kissing me…

†

His tongue glided against yours eliciting a startling surge of surprise and a nascent flicker of arousal from deep within you.

“Let me be enough,” he breathed, drawing you onto his lap as his hand began its deliberate descent down your body.

“Stop reaching for a past that didn’t keep you.”

Stop reaching for a past that what…?  What does that even mean..?

Your breath hitched as a molten warmth pooled low in your abdomen. 

But god, if his voice isn’t hot..

You gnawed on the tender flesh of your lower lip in a desperate attempt to anchor yourself.

God, why does his voice sounds so seductive?

The mere timbre of that stupid languid drawl was enough to send a sharp jolt straight to your groin.

It’s unfair, really.  

“Yzrivis…” Your irises became clouded with arousal as you raised your gaze to meet his.

You shifted on his lap to face him fully, your sole hand clutching at his shoulder to maintain your balance. 

It’s a little hard to seek purchase given the circumstances, though, you managed to anchor yourself nonetheless. The room spins in your vision until you’ve realized that you two were… in some sort of soft bed in a room?

Huh…? Why did the room change? Was it from his powers or something?

Regardless of it, maybe it was Yzrivis’ room that you’re in—since it looks extravagantly good—the god has probably has an exquisite taste after all.

Why… would he even take me— Oh.

The realization suddenly dawned on you:  It’s probably… gonna go there, isn’t it? 

Ah, shit. You swallowed thickly.

The thought of it makes you shiver in both disgust at yourself and arousal. You don’t feel like you want it, but somehow you were tempted to.

“Hm? Go on, speak. What’s on your mind?” He arched a silver brow, a knowing glint in his eyes.

“I… we should stop—ngh— wait…”

A sharp intake of breath escaped your lips as he cupped the growing tension beneath your robes.

“F-fuck…don’t do that…” you breathed out, your lips pressing on the sweet, twin dark speck nestled on his nose.

“Do you like kissing me, [Name]?”

Oh fuck, that’s so unfair.

Do you like kissing him? Yes—yes, you do. He probably already discerned the obvious ‘yes’ from the way those hazy irises dilated and stared at him.

“If so.. you will like this too. So let’s take these unnecessary things off, shall we?”

And true to his word, his nimble fingers made quick work of your attire, peeling away each piece until you were bare, making a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck.

You felt vulnerable and embarrassed about being naked.  But as the saying goes, misery loves company, so your hand sought the silken ties of his robes, tugging them open until the fabric cascaded from his shoulders, pooling in a luxurious heap around him.

Now at least you weren’t alone to bear the weight of embarrassment. You bit your lower lip as your eyes shamelessly devoured the sight of him.

“Good boy,” Yzrivis smirked. 

“Though, dare I say that you look more exquisite like this.” He smirked, hands wrapping around your hardening erection. 

Ugh, fuck, how did I even get hard that fast? Oh, you felt so much shame at how your body reacted like a virgin.

But even then, you can’t help the subtle involuntary lifting of your hips attempting to seek more.

“Ha… fuck..”

“You really do make the prettiest sounds. But I’d prefer it if you do not curse.”

Yzrivis hummed, his lips  trailing a path of exquisite fire on your nape, nibbling and sucking until a faint bruise blossomed beneath his ministrations.

“Go faster then…” Your pride dissipated as your hips began to buck, desperate for more friction, more depth, more of him.

“Impatience doesn’t suit you, love,” he purred, the rumble of his voice vibrating against your earlobe, sending another delicious shiver down your spine. 

But his actions belied his words. His grip tightened, and his fingers began to move in earnest, a firm, rhythmic squeeze and release that had your eyes fluttering shut.

It felt good. Too good, actually.

You didn’t know whether it’s just because you were so aroused that you’re this sensitive—or it’s just actually him that affects you this much. 

Slick noises filled the room, causing your thoughts to get clouded in a haze. You bit down on the deity’s shoulder to muffle the embarrassing sounds that tore itself from your throat.

You were too lost in the pleasure, so thoroughly enraptured that the subtle shift of his unoccupied hand, descending to squeeze the plush of your backside almost didn’t register in your mind.

 “H-hey… what’re you doing?” 

Does this mean…?

He withdrew his hand, bringing his fingers to his lips, moistening them with a deliberate, languid sweep of his tongue before pressing the slick digit against your rim. 

Oh fuck. I’m the bottom here, aren’t I?

A scorching wave of mortification washed over you, your head snapping away as if struck. 

Seriously?… Why does it have to be me? Can’t he be the bottom instead? No fair! The thought flared through your mind.

“Don’t think otherwise,” Yzrivis laughed, his amusement palpable. “You’re better off like this.”

“You—” the words got cut off as you felt a finger enter you. Even his fingers feel big…

“…Tch.” Your brows delve into a frown, the feeling of that finger foreign. It burns…

A second finger joined the first, gliding in slow, sinuous strokes and only then, did the initial burn finally dissipated. His other hand still continued its relentless touch on your length, distracting you even further.

It felt a little better now though.

Good, even. So now, you didn’t really feel as embarrassed as before.

“Yzrivis…aah.. ah..” You moaned eyes fluttering shut and voice strained from the tightness in your gut as your lips sought his.  Why am I moaning this much? This is so embarrassing.

Yzrivis deepened the pressure of his fingers, the slick sounds growing more lewd as his palm pressed firmly against your lower back to keep you arched just right. 

You were sure that you looked like a mess at this point, but your mind was consumed with thoughts of him. It didn’t help that Yzrivis looked so beautiful and divine in a way that made you ache while doing such a filthy thing. 

“Fuck— fuck.. haaa—” You cursed as those fingers rammed into you relentlessly, your senses becoming overloaded with pleasure.

And only then, did you say bye bye to your pride and listened to the carnal instincts.

“Yzrivis, Yzrivis— go harder.”

If you were the very same heretic from before, you would have flinched, gag and would rather burn at the thought of this.

But now… If your past self would think that this is madness, then you’d rather go mad. If other people thought that this is blasphemy, to defile a god and stain him with filth, then you’ll let yourself be damned.

Because now, all you could think about was how it felt so exquisitely good and how Yzrivis was ruinously beautiful.

How Yzrivis looked like heaven itself while dragging you into hell.

It didn’t really take long before your body succums to the pleasure; your body convulsed against his, muscles spasming, as a hot, thick gush of come surged from your length, spilling onto his hand and the soft skin of his inner thigh.

Haa… that felt nice. You thought, thoughts still in a haze.

With a languid motion, Yzrivis withdrew his finger—slick, wet, shining—and raised them to his mouth then licked them clean one by one.

Huh… wait.. what is he doing—?!

Mortification burned in your veins at the filthy sight. “You—” you rasped, voice cracked with disbelief and leftover pleasure.

Is he not disgusted at all?

“That’s disgusting. Spit it out, Yzrivis.”

Yzrivis only chuckled, lips curling in faint amusement as he sucked the last of it off the pad of his finger. “Not at all. You taste exquisite—like ambrosia.” he murmured, as if it were fact as he licked his other hand, cleaning it up before pulling it away from his face.

Your face went red instantly as you wiped the left over stains of white on Yzrivis’ lips. “It literally just tastes like c*m,” you muttered.

The god’s brows lifted, expression vaguely amused, vaguely wounded.

Then he parted his lips, and there, against the pale pink of his tongue, was the last gleam of your release—sticky and glistening in the low light.

“Then come,” Yzrivis murmured, voice low and coaxing, “Lick it from my tongue yourself. Tell me it isn’t ambrosia.”

Oh, fuck. He really does know all the words to say to make your knees weak, doesn’t he?

How could he say something so filthy, yet look so divine? You wondered as you leaned down and kissed him hungrily.

Your fingers curled around Yzrivis’ jaw, holding him there, tilting his head as he opened his mouth wider—you let your tongues tangle, let the last traces of your own release melt between your tongues like the goddamn ambrosia Yzrivis claimed it to be.

It didn’t taste like ambrosia, really. It tasted bitter and all—but you liked it, because the taste of Yzrivis lingers on it.

You felt a shift beneath you, subtle at first as the deity’s hips nudged forward. Though, you were still lost in the afterglow, in the mesmerizing depths of his gaze that you barely registered the sensations.

Then, you felt a sudden, warm pressure back there and a slow, insistent push. 

It burns. Again.

You gasped, fingers clutching at Yzrivis’ arms, nails sinking into the flesh to anchor yourself, enduring the burn of the stretch.

Oh.

You bit back a cry, face contorting. Gods, he’s so big. That bitch didn’t even warn you!

“What’re you making that face for, hm?”

Yzrivis’ hips rolled forward and finally sank into you deeper. He bottomed out in one slow, devastating push, his hands moving to cradle your hips, thumbs rubbing soft, coaxing circles into the skin as if to soothe the way his cock split you open.

Damn you, how about you try taking a dick that big up your ass, and see how you like it, huh?! You thought incredulously as tears stings your vision.

“Tch, such a fuss over a simple joining. You’re not that weak, are you? I know that my little wolf is strong.” 

That felt so patronizing for some reasons. But even then, since when did he not make you feel like you’re pathetic?

Yzrivis leaned down, lips brushing over his temple, while his other hand left your hip, only to slip behind your neck and cradle you. 

The act did help distract you from the burn, and slowly, your body relaxed until the pain eventually dulled—and only the pleasure remained.

“Won’t you look at me, my darling [Name], hm? Tell me.” he tutted, tapping your cheek. But you shook your head stubbornly, still unable to come in terms with what’s happening even.

“Tch. What a stubborn boy…” He clicks his tongue.

Before you can brace yourself, his hands tighten—one on your hip, the other shifting from your neck to the back of your skull.

“If you will not look at me,” he murmurs, voice dark with intent,

“Then I’ll have you in a way that requires no sight at all.”

The world tilts.

A startled gasp punches from your lungs as he flips you with startling, godly ease. One moment you’re astride him, pressed chest-to-chest; the next, the silken sheets are cool against your fevered cheek, your body sprawled out beneath him. The sudden movement jostles him inside you, dragging a sharp, oversensitive moan from your throat.

You instinctively throw your sole arm out to catch yourself, but the balance is all wrong, your body still impaled and achingly full. You wobble, a spike of panic flashing through the haze of pleasure—but then something cool and smooth slides around your wrist.

Tendrils…? Where did those even come from….? Where they… an extension of him..?

They coil around your forearm, sinuous and firm, anchoring you to the headboard with a gentle, unyielding pressure. Another loops around your thigh, another across your lower back, holding you steady, keeping you from sliding off him even as he shifts above you. 

“There,” he purrs, his voice now close to your ear, his breath stirring your hair. “Now you’re secure. Now you can feel without having to think.”

He doesn’t give you time to process the shock, the surrender of being bound by his power. His hand lifts your hips higher. He withdraws slowly, almost completely, the drag a sweet, unbearable torture—and then he slams back into you.

It feels so much more deeper in this position.

“And since you also refuse to talk to me… Then don’t talk to me either.” he rasps, his own breath growing uneven as his fingers thrust in your mouth to muffle every sound.

†

Beyond the meager sanctuary of the settlement, the world had been ravaged into something unrecognizable.

The sky itself seemed bruised—ashen, leaden clouds perpetually roiling, their bellies rumbling with a distant, ceaseless thunder that promised a storm.

The rain had never stopped.

Whatever that Yzrivis—or whatever that goddamn god was called—had done in his wrath was way more horrifying than it appears.

Even the shambling walking corpses; the undead that Theo thought had been exterminated by the calamities, has fucking evolved.

They fucking evolved!

The first time their paths crossed, Theo barely recognized the horrors before him; they weren’t the same walking spasming cadavers of corpses.

No, these new abominations were fucking grotesque, their forms so profoundly unsettling that even the memory threatened to churn his gut anew. 

They’ve gotten stronger too somehow, and it was hard to kill them now; their former sluggishness replaced by a terrifying alacrity, and they were way more stronger, and more resilient. 

Theo had underestimated them once and almost had himself mauled if it wasn’t for someone shooting the undead down.

It was terrifying, really.

Moreover, Theo’s frantic search for any trace about you was fruitless. And he was stuck in a suffocating void of ignorance that fueled a tempest of anxiety within his soul.

Were you alive or dead?

Either way seems like a torture.

He’d already seen how much you’ve suffered; about being an outcast here in the settlement, the venomous whispers, the sidelong glances that branded you vermin in this wretched settlement.

And… the blames.  Oh, those venomous barbs hurled your way, and the way jagged crimson cuts appeared on your wrist every night.

He pretended that he didn’t notice, but gods, he saw it, and it tears him apart to see you like that.

If only he could, he would take your pain just so you wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.

Why is the world so cruel to you when you’ve done nothing wrong but exist? Was the fundamental right to draw breath denied to you without the relentless pursuit of sorrow?

Theo breathed out a ragged sigh, his gaze vacant as he mechanically chewed on the roasted potatoes, their earthy scent a hollow comfort in the flickering firelight.

The cult had made a makeshift camp, tattered garments stitched with desperate hands, and a meager bounty of food salvaged from the destroyed farm.

Even looking at the roasted vegetables—after knowing damn well that you were the one who had to take care of all of those plants—churned his stomach with a sickening wave of guilt and dread.

Worry was killing him.

He wished that you were here with him; so you two can talk shit about these hypocrites and be the sacrilegious bastards you are.

“Ne, ne, Théodore, what are you thinking about?”

Theo gasped softly, the name pulling him out of the fog like a hooked barb.

“…Nothing,” he rasped pathetically as he permitted his soft brown eyes to dart toward the source of the sound. 

It was Tanya, a familiar face he’d encountered during his assignment to cleanse those stupid statues of Yzrivis and they pretty much became friends after talking for a while.

And apparently, she was a daughter of a priest here.

 “Just… thinking.” Theo mumbled, his gaze distantly staring at the fire.

Tanya’s head canted in skepticism. She drew her knees to her chest, the worn toes of her boots mere inches from the flickering flames. 

“You’ve been chewing that potato for five minutes, Theodoré. It’s already dead. There’s no need to punish it.”

A humorless exhalation escaped him, and after a brief pause, his shoulders slumped. “I miss someone,” he admitted quietly.

“Oh?” Tanya’s brows ascend curiously as a teasing smile curved at her chapped lips. “A lover? Wow, you never told me that you have one!”

“Was it… Sister Lysara or something..? She’s already old, y’know! and a widow, so you don’t have a chance”

A flush crept up Theo’s neck, tightening his jaw in a silent struggle against  the burgeoning mortification. 

 “No! I would rather die than—fall—ugh… it’s not like that.” he managed to say, a dry swallow hitching in his throat.

 “It’s not Lysara. It’s [Name]. Vaelix, or whatever you guys call him. He’s not my lover, but he’s someone that is really important to me.”

He’s my soulmate. Was what he ached to say, but didn’t.

Tanya’s melancholic yet discerning gaze lingered on him for a beat before a slow, deliberate nod affirmed her comprehension.

“Oh… that Vaelix?” she asks, her tone laced with a cautious reserve. “The one people whisper about in the settlement?”

“I don’t know much about Vaelix,” she huffed. “Not really.” She hesitated, fingers worrying the frayed hem of her sleeve in agitation.

“But yeah. I’ve heard of him, he’s pretty much infamous.”

“Heard what?”

Theo’s voice came out rough, daubed with a subtle borderline hostile protectiveness as his hands instinctively balled into rigid fists, his gaze narrowing to piercing slits.

Tanya sighed, clearly uncomfortable. “Look— I’m not saying I believe any of it, alright? I haven’t experienced it firsthand. I barely spoke to him.” She paused, meticulously selecting her subsequent words.

“But from what people say…Vaelix is hated. Like, genuinely despised.”

A sharp, almost pained breath hissed through Theo’s nostrils as his eyes drifted towards the flickering inferno, observing the incandescent embers as they gracefully collapsed into themselves.

“That much I know. But why? what did he even do for them to hate him that much?”

I know that he can be an asshole but… I swear; he’s the kindest person I’ve ever known my whole life. Theo added mentally.

Why..?

“Well…” Tanya tapped a finger on her cheek. “They say your friend is a blasphemous heretic and that he disrespected Yzrivis openly.”

That sounds just like you, but he knew you weren’t careless enough to do it in public. A subtle, almost imperceptible tremor began to ripple at the corner of Theo’s lips. “Disrespect how?”

“They claimed…” Tanya winced, a fleeting grimace crossing her features.

“They claimed that your friend cut a girl’s arm badly. And when he was confronted, he said it was Lord Yzrivis who made him do it or something..” 

She punctuated her unsettling declaration with a sharp, decisive chopping motion of her own hands, as if cleaving the very air.

“And it’s such a blasphemy to use Lord Yzrivis’ name for such a.. uhm, crime..?”

“That’s a lie,” Theo cut off instantly, venom threading his words. “He would never—”

“I know,” Tanya interceded gently.

“Or at least… I don’t know, but I don’t think it’s that simple. He was the first one to be subjected to Viticudrix for a long time instead of Zyval’korr, y’know…? Normally, they would kill him on the spot after such disrespect but… They chose to torment him mentally instead.”

“…I also heard from my dad—father Geovani, he was acting really weird and psychotic kinda…? He said that sister Lysara herself had come to him just to ask him to take Vaelix out of her care for some reasons… She didn’t say why though, she just made excuses about Vaelix not knowing boundaries and acting creepy after the Zyval’korr rite—for two people who were criminals and for… the kid whom Vaelix had harmed.”

𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐒𝐘𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒

More days have passed and they combed through collapsed sanctuaries and broken watchposts, through fields that had once bloomed under impossible abundance and now lay rotted and blackened. 

The undead were still there, of course and  they fought them with whatever they had.

And still, every time Theo fired a gun that some people gave him, his eyes never stopped searching past the carnage and searched for something else.

For you.

It was on the fourth day that they found the rubble field.

What remained of a residential quarter—collapsed stone stacked atop itself like a mass grave. The air was thick with dust and. Undead roamed the perimeter, drawn by noise, by motion, by the living heat of the searching party.

“Neutralize them first!” someone shouted.

“I think that there are bodies underneath all that rubbles! We should check it first if people are still alive before the undead multiplies—!”

They all moved automatically; a synchronized ballet of grim efficiency ensued.

Muzzles flashed like stuttering lightning as two more people snapped into position, one dropping to a knee, the other firing blind over his shoulder as he backpedaled.

“I’m going to reload my gun—cover me!”

“I’ve got it!” Theo barks as he dispatched three of the revenants in swift succession, his movements precise and lethal, his hands shaking only after the last body hit the ground. 

His gaze, however, was already snared, riveted by a sliver of something half-obscured beneath a colossal, fallen beam.

A fabric. He saw a fabric. God, please let it be him—let it be him.

“There—! I think there’s a body there—I can see a fabric there!” His voice cracked violently. 

“Under that—move that!”

“Later!” another voice snapped,  muffled by the staccato crackle of gunfire as bullets tore through the lunging undead. “We’ve got more coming—”

“Go handle that then—! I’ll try to find more survivors!” Theo retorted, already stumbling toward the rubble, his bare hands clawing frantically at the  stone.

“Back me up here though!” Theo added, just as the corner of his eyes caught the sight of an undead lunging.

With a practiced, fluid motion, Theo pivoted, delivering decisive shots that felled the creature, then immediately plunged back into his desperate excavation.

“Théodore watch out—!” Tanya staggered backward as she moved to shield Theo from the lunging undead.

She rammed the axe blade upward beneath its chin. It spasmed, twitching violently, until a bald man behind her brought a crowbar down in its skull again and again.

“Thanks, Tanya and Mr. Receding hairline!”

Theo rasped then focused on the rubbles once more, confident that they’ll be able to fight them off.

“Ugh— this… this is too heavy—”

Dude, help me! Can’t you read actions or something?! He thought as he shot a glare at the burly man who was beside him.

Theo then hesitated for a fleeting moment—then swore under his breath and rushed over. 

“Move,” he growled, slinging his shotgun onto his back and planting his feet beside Theo. “On three.”

“Now!” the burly man barked.

They heaved together.

The beam shifted—just an inch at first—then scraped loudly across the rubble until the dust exploded upward, choking and blinding. 

“There—there!” Theo gasped. “I was right—someone’s under here!”

Please let it be him.

“Then keep them alive, okayy?! and take care too—!” Tanya exclaims, already turning back toward the encroaching undead. “We’ll hold them off.”

“No! Go there too—I think Sister Lysara there!”

He heaved, pointing at Lysara who was using a crowbar to break a beam, while two men backed her up just in case an undead attacks her.

“I think she saw another survivor there,” 

“Got it,” The burly man nodded.

Oh no, Theo coughed, heart hammering, as a pale, unmoving hand slid into view beneath the debris. 

He could already feel his lungs constricting from the dust and it’s getting harder to breathe, but all of the snagged breath went ignored the moment he saw a familiar figure laying down the ruins.

There you were. It was really you.

Even though you looked like absolute shit, he could recognize it.

For one heartbeat, Theo felt relief so sharp it nearly knocked him unconscious. 

Hot and cleansing saline tears, carved glistening paths down his dust-streaked cheeks as he collapsed to his knees beside you, his trembling hands hovering

Finally. Fina-fucking-lly. He finally found you.

“Oh—oh gods—[Name]—You’re here—you’re here—I found you—I—”

He pressed two fingers to your neck, desperately, and he felt a pulse; it was weak and erratic, but it was there.

Theo felt your pulse flutter beneath his fingers—still there, still fighting—and clutched you closer, as if he could will you to stay simply by refusing to let go.

“Is that—” Tanya permits her head to look at Theo, but another undead lunged, making her grunt and focus on it instead.

“Hey,” he whispered, desperate now, tears dripping onto your face and mixing with grime and blood.

“Hey, stay with me. You hear me? Don’t you dare—don’t you dare leave me now. I found you. I—I fought through half of hell to get to you.”

“Hold on,” he begged into your blood-soaked hair, but as he shifted you—careful, so careful—his gaze finally dropped, just for a second, to where his arm cradled yours.

And… there were…

Teeth marks…?

No—no, no, no—

His pupils distended, swallowing the last vestiges of light as a ragged gasp tore from his constricted throat. 

No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening—!

A torrent of anguish, hot and unbidden, cascaded from his eyes, blurring the edges of a world already fractured.

The world narrowed to the crescent-shaped punctures in your skin, dark and angry against the pale of your arm.

Theo gnawed at his lower lip until the metallic tang of blood bloomed on his tongue.

I’m so sorry for betraying you everyone, but god… I’d choose my best friend over you all. Even if all of us will be damned if he ever turns. I already knew what he could become, I know what it could cost…  and yet I can’t make myself step away.

Theo thought in despair as he rented a strip from his own sleeve and meticulously bound it around the wounded limb, a futile attempt to staunch the flow of both blood and burgeoning dread.

I really am sorry, everyone. But I would rather live as the villain in your story than the executioner in his.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

⤷ꫂ ၴႅၴ₊✦── .✧ 𝐘𝐙’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ˎˊ˗ᯓ

⊹₊ ⋆𝐒𝐎 how was it? Do vote (star) and leave a comment if you enjoyed it; I’d greatly appreciate it, my lil puddings.<3 (I swear I tried to make that shitty ahh smut less explicit but I ran out of sugarcoated words, plz forgive me haha)

⊹₊ ⋆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 this, so you won’t get confused! The reason Theo is able to find [Name]’s body while [Name] is still with Yzrivis is because the one trapped with Yzrivis isn’t his physical form—it’s his soul.
His body and soul are separated.

⊹₊ ⋆𝐓𝐇𝐄 way this works is loosely inspired by how souls function in Record of Ragnarok, where souls can still interact, feel, and even make contact despite not being fully alive. As long as [Name]’s soul is unable to return to his body, he remains bound to Yzrivis. There’s no escape for him until that connection is restored.

⊹₊ ⋆𝐖𝐄’𝐑𝐄 so close to the end now. I may have messed things up a little by making this arc longer than planned again, so it’s probably going to be… two more chapters again (forgive me, I get carried away every time).

⊹₊ ⋆𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐖𝐀𝐘, please do follow my fanfic account hihi ( syntaxvoid ), I post fanfics there.