HuntressNeura
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The weak, flickering light cast by the UV rod beside his makeshift cot appears harsh. Painful. Hostile even. Something makes him freeze just shy of its threshold, brows furrowed in consternation.
He takes a step backward, clenching his fists. He feels better, stronger, healthier, untouchable even, all of which would go away if he stepped into the light – the light that promises a salvation he’s not so sure he really wants anymore—
What. The. Fuck. Am I doing?[Takes Place Between Dying Light 2 and Dying Light: The Beast]
Series
- Part 5 of Tales of a Volatile Dichotomy
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lat. man is a wolf to man
“But now that I have what I need…” the Baron’s voice grows quieter, darker, lower, tentatively reaching for the knife.
Aiden's breath catches in his throat, heartbeat painfully loud in his ears. His mind’s slipping, spiraling, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it—
He knows what’s coming, he knows he knows heknows—
“I no longer need you.”— OR —
The Baron's stopped much, much sooner.
[Contains Spoilers]
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Five times Aiden's infection goes unnoticed until, inevitably, it doesn't.
Series
- Part 4 of Tales of a Volatile Dichotomy
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Aiden has, after a while, become accustomed to his sometimes-alienating feline features and Hakon has to suffer through all of its pros and cons.
[Collection of Drabbles]
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The wind tugs at the piece of paper as it passes him, caressing his soma like the hand of a loving matriarch. It causes a sudden wave of physical exhaustion to wash over the pilgrim, thus he proceeds to lie against the dry grass as he looks up at the canopy of distant suns dotting the sky.
Aiden exhales somewhat solemnly.
Recent series
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Tales of a Volatile Dichotomy by HuntressNeura
Fandom: Dying Light (Video Game), Dying Light 2 (Video Game)
03 Nov 2025
- Words:
- 65,979
- Works:
- 5
- Bookmarks:
- 1
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"I've already told you, I don't need you to spot for me," he says, trying to keep his voice reasonable and not too obviously out of breath. He'd almost had it. Damn it.
Flambae shrugs. "We're not on the clock. I don't have to listen to your bitching yet."
Robert sits up and spins around so that he's straddling the bench facing Flambae. He rests his arms on the bar, feeling the dull bite of it into his muscles through his hoodie. Flambae towers over him, arms crossed, but Robert doesn't flinch.
"That bitching's saved your life more than once, you know," he points out.
Or, Robert and Flambae keep running into each other at the SDN's gym.
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Ever since his suit got blown up for a second time while he was inside it, Robert's been losing time. He doesn't know how to handle it. Luckily, his friends are there to help him figure it out.
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The pleasant evening between Flambae and Robert after the fight at Sardine's ends with Flambae extracting shards of mirror from the back of the Z-Team dispatcher.
Robert agrees to tell Flambae about his true identity, but only after their third date.
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The missing scene where Robert and Flambae reach a mutual understanding.
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It felt like everyone was so used to Robert getting egregiously maimed that it was a normal Tuesday for them. And maybe it would feel like that if Sonar wasn't the one to catch him. He keeps thinking of Robert's face, streaked in blood that poured from his nose and from the soot of the explosion. Cheek resting in the fur of his chest while they hit terminal velocity, racing towards a mutual death a half-mile in the clouds.
There was still a lingering current of fear that invaded the peripheral of his awareness anytime Robert was in question. Be it in the break room or watching the man walk home alone, it felt like he had to be somewhere near him. Just in case.
And somehow, Robert doesn't notice.