#HE ALSO SAWED ALL THIS MARBLE LIKE IT WAS A PIECE OF MEAT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nevereverlandboys · 3 years ago

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Drunken in charge

A/N: So I already posted this on wattpad a while ago. I was busy with learning for my exam, but now I finally managed to edit everything so I can post it on tumblr for those who don't read in wattpad

If you want to get tagged for my oneshots DM me ❤

Pairing: Ouat Felix x Reader

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, fingering, oral, unprotected sex, consuming of alcohol, swearing, really unrealistic sex scene lol, unprotected sex

Summary: Felix is being left in charge for the camp while Pan is absent, so games are off along with every other game. What is there else to do than drink? The second in command uses this opportunity to finally get closer to the reader after being so distant for a long time.

word count: 9968

The Island was harsh and cruel to everyone in an unfair but equal way. Even though the lost boys lived free on Neverland, they still were ruled by the mischievous leader named Peter Pan. Each of them had their own suffering they would not mention to anyone, rather feel the pain alone and the loneliness followed them with every step. But if someone caught Y/N's eye the most, it was the quiet second in command, Felix. He always stayed close to his leader and would always follow his command. His cold facade never told her a single thought, making him special in his own way. He would leave the girl alone and only joined her on missions, but even then, the second in command would remain quiet. Pan on the other hand, tormented Y/N with thousands of useless tasks, while the lost boys worked on their own duties that seemed to make way more fun. No matter how hard she tried, Y/N would never fit in the group of lost boys, their name alone excluded her. None of them treated her fair, always left her out and acted like she was their servant. At first, the boys all seemed curious, and also a little intrigued about her appearance. They wondered why the shadow brought a girl to Neverland and if she would stay forever or just for a while. Their vicious behavior scared her off the first days, keeping her distance in a small tent. There was nothing special about Y/N, and she wondered why Pan brought her here from the beginning. Soon they boys learned that as well, treating her harshly like everybody else. They mocked her for being too weak, being too emotional,- they mocked her for not being a boy. After a while Y/N stopped asking questions and simply agreed to her new life. There were many good things to mention, nothing here was all bad. No one cared about her exploring the island during the day, at least if she did not go too far. If she wanted to cook for herself, there was no one in the way, and if she wanted to read in her tent, they would not enter- also because she was definitely sure Pan forbat it. The lost boy's feared and loved their leader at the same time, the way he let them live the free life they always wanted and not even seeing how dangerous it could be had convinced them. Y/N had distanced herself from them and their cruelty, rarely appeared to any big occasion and rather traveled along the river that ran it's way through the meadow and pastures. It was a surprise when one boy asked her one day to join a game, leaving her startled and unable to answer since no one ever really attempted to talk to the girl. It woke a piece of hope inside her, some of the younger boys already liked Y/N, yet, there was always something suspicious around the older ones.

"C'mon!" The thin boy yelled excitedly and waved his hands through the air, gesturing to follow him.

"This will be fun!"

Y/N avoided the demanding boy and tilted her head while her eyes wandered through the group before they stopped at the second in command, his eyes already burning on her skin when she detected him on his log, not far. His gaze made her nervous, uncomfortable and she questioned the decision to join the game. Something inside her shook the thought off, that Felix would approach her one day for some other reason than Pan made him, or that he would ask her to join a game.

"No…" Y/N answered nervously and looked back to the lost boy, trying to ignore Felix in the back. She did not trust that boy the slightest.

"I have to clean the kitchen." She lied and dropped her gaze to the ground. The boy left as quickly as he came, not even trying to convince her further as if the interest was faked like everything else on this Island. After a while she sat alone in silence, watching the smaller boys play with sticks and some older ones preparing some meat and stickbread for the bonfire. The feeling of being watched did not let go. Y/N tried her best not to look suspicious and quickly let her eyes wander further when she found the guilty boy, Felix.

Why is he still staring at me?

She never found out. The boy stayed exactly where he was and so did Y/N. He would constantly steal a glimpse and for a moment goosebumps spread all over her body, as butterflies rumbled in her stomach. A few days went on and she had catched the second in command staring at her over and over again. Whenever she looked at him, he quickly shifted his eyes somewhere in hope not to be catched. Sitting at the dining table she would catch him, when she did the laundry or cooked in the humble kitchen. The lost boy woke some curiosity inside the girl, the urgent need to know why he would always steal a glimpse, whenever she walked by. He never slipped a nasty comment, definitely strange compared to the other lost boys and their vivid temper. He never approached her or tried to keep up a conversation either. As soon as the sun went down, Pan appeared in front of Y/N's tent, calling her to come out and get some firewood. His second in command stood not far, leaning against the bark of a tree and chewing on a toothpick. He didn't need to wait for his leader's command, already knowing he had to join her.

"Be quick." Pan ordered sternly, pressing his brows together before strutting back to the other boys. Her eyes instantly shifted over to the lanky, blonde boy, a smirk plastered on his pale face. If Pan knew that this was not a good idea? Felix turned on his heels and led the way through the trees uphill where the bushes covered the edges down to the abyss, not looking back once.

"C'mon, girlie." He said.

'Don't call me that!' She snapped back and paced up. The lost boy's camp disappeared on the ground, the higher Y/N followed the path before Felix stopped in front of a dark forest, the leaves swallowing every light before it could touch the ground.

"Princess." Felix corrected cockily, watching her step between the trees. She started to blush and was unable to say something, so she decided to simply ignore the giant boy's nickname for her, no matter how flattering his words seemed. She tried to act tough, tougher than she actually was, in hope he would recognise it.

"How in the hell should we get wood in the dark?' Y/N mumbled as she stared into the pitch black.

"Are you scared?" Felix teased and gave her a smirk. His voice was deep and rough, unsettling but still going like honey through her ears. The girl scoffed at him and rolled her eyes, then led the way with firm steps, not even seeing the ground and suddenly tripping over into a mess of wood.

"Fuck!" She hissed and held her hands to check the unbruised skin. The lost boy started to laugh darkly to himself, before he stepped closer.

"This wood is full of chunks." Felix explained and bent down to pick up the wood. Y/N rose to her feet and grabbed some wood, not saying another word. Felix remained silent as well, heading with heavy back to the camp. After a while he stopped and turned, watched if she could catch up and continued when the girl was close enough. All the time she wanted to talk to him, using the moment all alone with him, but as she hurried to follow the second in command, no single idea for a conversation came to her mind. It was like someone wiped every thought away and replaced it with the heavy drumming of her heartbeat. As soon as she reached the clearing, Felix dropped the wood onto the ground and left them for the other boys to take care of it. Her chunks landed right next to his and she paced up to catch up with the gloomy second in command, when a tight grip on the girl's wrist stopped her.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Y/N tilted her head and faced Dave, a tall chubby boy with messy brown hair, his eyes dark and soft like marbles. The lost boy looked like a bear, warm and welcoming, nevertheless it were his words that often scared her off. He only had nasty comments for Y/N, threats and if Pan wouldn't protect her for being a weak girl, the lost boy would probably harm her physically as well.

"The potatoes won't cook themselves!" Dave barked and pushed her harshly away before his eyes wandered over to the kitchen tent. Y/N bit her tongue to stop slipping a nasty comment, marched over to the humble kitchen and let out a growl when she saw the mess inside.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She whined as her eyes wandered over the dirty pots and Pan's, knives and forks along with every spoon. At least it was not stinking and disgusting, easy to wash, yet an avoidable effort if every boy would clean after themselves. But why should they? They had Y/N. Deciding to only clean the essential goods and shoving the other things aside, she opened a little basket with potatoes in it and placed them on the little counter. Like she expected, no one came to help her during the cooking, only one boy showed up to ask if she could hurry up. The same boy did not even thank her when she finally gave them the cooked potatoes half an hour later. The selfish behaviour of these boys was the thing Y/N hated most, more reason to focus on the second in command, the only boy who had never shown her this nasty attitude. While every other boy slowly gathered around the bonfire after they ate, Felix stayed where he was. He did not dance like the others and Y/N was not even sure if he could hear what the boys claimed to hear. Pan once said, his flute was special and the girl was supposed to hear her too. None of them had an explanation, still, it did not seem like the first time for Pan, seeing something like this.

The girl's eyes darted back to Felix, his eyes already burning on her skin and she instantly moved her head to make it look less obvious. The tempting idea of walking over to him burned inside her guts, but with all those boys around, she was like being frozen in place. The second in command never talked to her when it was not necessary, not even one muscle in his face twitched when he interacted with the others. Still, something inside Y/N pulled her towards him from the beginning, as if his attempt to block her out was even more tempting. When she distanced herself from the bonfire back to her tent, Felix stayed at his seat instead of following her like she had imagined he would do. A little disappointed she went to bed and kept twirling all her thoughts around the mysterious second in command. There were so many questions about him. No one ever understood Felix, maybe not even Pan, although they were closer to each other than no one else on this whole Island.

The following days Pan left Felix in charge, going on a mission by himself. The absence of Neverland's leader made itself noticeable first, when the lost boys stopped playing their big games and went directly to their duties, almost no words slipping from their usually loud mouths as they worked in silence. The day had started boring for everyone on it, Pan was already away for a few days, so Felix was fully in charge. Games were off, along with parties and especially dances in the evening. If Y/N could tell, the dances were the most annoying thing to the second in command, the thing he hated the most. Felix did not like the idea of taking care of anybody else but himself. So it came that even after weeks, Y/N had barely exchanged some words with him. He would simply avoid her and in case of sharing a task, just stare at her in curiosity. It was a lie to say he did not make her nervous, even when it was not in a scary way. The second in command was weird in any way and whenever he built himself up in front of her, she and broad, he made her look even shorter than she actually was. A feeling almost pleasant instead of scary. It was like something pulled her towards the cold lost boy, but the lack of courage would not let her talk to him. If he felt the same?

Felix was intimidating to look at, it was like something was wrong with his face but Y/N could never tell what. His high pitched cheeks were sharp and narrow and there was an awful scar running along his left cheek up to his brows like an 'x'. The most creepy things were his eyes though, whenever she looked into them, she was willingly drowning in a cold puddle that dragged her deeper in. They pierced her, as if he knew every secret inside the girl's head. Nevertheless, he was not ugly, rather pretty to look at. When his blonde hair hung messy over his face and the way he smelled. Whenever she walked past him, she would smell pinewood and musk. Even though he was well known for his cruelty, the lost boy never raised his hand against Y/N, nor called her nasty things like the others did. She was not even sure on how to do it anyways. Felix always looked busy or like he did not want anyone to speak to him. When she thought of it, the girl could not remember one single boy really talking to the second in command except Pan, but then again,- they only talked about plans and other secrets. He was a mystery of his own, a riddle for Y/N to solve. She glanced over to him and saw that he was carving something into a piece of wood. The lanky lost boy had distanced himself from the other boys, having his seat on a log as closest to the forest as possible. Maybe she could strike a conversation about his passion for carving? He was doing that almost everyday without talking about it and when she thought about it, she had never seen the final results. After a while, courage overcame her, so she stood up and walked slowly into Felix's direction, already noticing in the corner of her eyes the disapproving and concerned looks of some boys. They started to talk quietly to each other and she instantly knew it was about her. Their eyes burned more on Y/N's skin with each step further towards Felix, making her feel nervous and jumpy. Rolling with her eyes at them, she still marched to the lanky blonde boy, stopping when she was close enough to him. The heads of the lost boys instantly shot away, as if they felt too scared to let Felix know about their curiosity when he lifted his heavy head from his broad shoulders.

Felix's eyes darted up, his mouth shut tight and his facial expression went blank like always. His look told Y/N that he was strong, but never how he felt. She tried to say something, but the words got stuck in her throat. Unable to speak, she stared with a deadpan face back at the second in command, trying to find an excuse for her behaviour. The idea with the wood seemed so dumb suddenly and she wished she could just melt into the ground or simply disappear as the lost boy stared back at her, locking their eyes and waiting for her to say something.

"Have you seen Pan?" Y/N choked out and sounded calmer than she expected to be. The blonde boy raised an eyebrow suspiciously and nodded behind him into the dark forest. Big trees hovered high up into the sky, all around the clearing, hiding every view. It was pitch black. Y/N swallowed at the sight of the dark woods and she shook her head slowly, feeling so scared of the unknown dangers. There was no reason for her to see Pan, the leader was not a pleasant person himself and the lie only made her more anxious.

"I think it wasn't important anyways." She mumbled unsure and turned around, feeling how her whole face heatened up at the fact that she talked to the mysterious second in command. Suddenly, the tall boy grabbed her by the wrist, causing her to turn and face him again.

"I'll bring you to him, if you feel scared to go alone." He said dry and rose to his feet, tall and intimidating. The girl was so small next to him, peeking up to him again as her limbs lightly started to tremble. Felix glanced down at her and again, she shook her head slowly. The girl did not know if he simply did not notice it, but when the lost boy shoved her into the pitch black, terror overcame her. What was he doing? Not daring to say a word, before the light around her vanished, she only felt the lost boy's hand on her back as he pushed her gently forwards. Her heart was pounding so hard, she feared he might feel it. Where the hell would he bring her? Where was Pan all the time?

"Don't." Y/N winced and turned on her heels, running past Felix back into the camp. The lost boy instantly jumped around and stormed after her, chasing her across the clearing towards some big trees. She tripped over one of their big roots, almost crashing down but still finding her balance. This was the moment Felix jumped at the girl, crashing down with her, his heavy weight pressing the air out of her lungs. The lost boy spun her around and pinned her arms down on the floor before she could take a sharp inhale. Y/N tried to free herself in panic, but she could not move at all, when the slender boy straddled her and held her down. The colours in Y/N's face faded away and her heart pumped wild inside her as if it were about to explode, unable to tell if she felt excited or scared. Maybe a healthy mix of both. She was sure he did not want to hurt her. Frankly, he never did.

"Why in the hell are you running from me." He asked angry, slightly confused and she thought even a bit hurt as he pressed his brows strictly together.

"Don’t hurt me." She muttered and the pale boy frowned. He loosened his grip and swiftly rose to his feet and pulled his hood back over his head, then strutted quickly away, not even giving her a last glance.

That was strange, she thought. Her heart was still beating furiously. What happened? The lost boy scared her and made her feel like burning at the same time. She took a deep breath and raised to her feet, wiping the dirt off her clothes. Felix was a strange guy and he only confused Y/N. Why did he just stand up and leave? She was not dumb and clearly could add two and two together. But it could not be that the second in command had some interest in her, why should he? The boy barely spoke to the girl, even when they had chores together. Y/N remembered one of the first days, when Pan sent them both to get some dreamshade and the tall blonde did not even let her near one of those plants, not even mentioning why. When he held the filled glasses, the boy walked a big distance between her back to camp, giving her the feeling of not being wanted. Later she had learned the dangers of it and Felix's strange behaviour now. It was an easy addition but she needed to be sure, not even knowing how to deal with this information.

If I am right.

The next day Felix clearly avoided her. Whenever he felt like she was too close, the lost boy would quickly find another place to go. She did not want to ask any of the boys about it, not wanting them to know, but it was obviously something off. They would not answer her anyways, only giving her questioning looks. After that weird situation in the evening before, the second in command completely vanished. There was no big effort to look for him and when the girl went to bed, she completely forgot about him. He had not given her any duties yet, so she took her chance and left the camp to take a shower and later gather some fruits and seeds, everything edible the Island would offer her without having to kill. She did not know how to hunt and was not sure if she could even catch an animal. Peter once told her that his best man would teach her to hunt, but Felix always seemed to be so busy that she simply never asked him to. At first she had avoided the blonde, lanky boy, not knowing his temper. He had scared her so much but now she could not stop thinking of how he had straddled her and how much she liked it. This was stupid. She barely knew Felix and still Y/N pictured herself with him in so many daydreams now. It was always easier to dream about someone and she was not crazy enough to consider anything about the rough boy. But where would he be? What is he doing right now? God, she needed to stop thinking about Felix. She was overthinking.

The time passed by and Y/N found herself at the clearing again, watching two boys fight in the distance, with a small crowd around to cheer their violence. Her eyes wandered over the whole area, searching for the second in command. He sat far away next to a few older lost boys that hollered around while drinking some rum. Since Felix would not let them do anything, the only possible solution for the boys was to drink and do stupid things that would not bother the tall scarred one. They were drinking more alcohol than any adult could ever handle. The girl's eyes shifted over the group, seeing how they stumbled and swayed around. Felix sat on a log with his own bottle of rum in his hands, he kept his distance from the other boys, observing them with a blank expression but it was visible that he was drunk, too. When he saw Y/N entering the camp, the second in command's head spun around, meeting her gaze and she could swear his face lightened up.

"Y/N!" Someone big yelled excitedly and jumped at her from the side, almost swaying her off her feet before she could even think of the name "Felix".

"Drink with us!" The chubby boy cheered with a dizzy voice. His dark, bushy eyebrows hung deep over his small eyes and he wrinkled his nose, making a nasty, slimy sound, reminding her of a mull. He was not pretty to look at, mean and vicious, sometimes insulting for no reason. He was that kind of a boy who would mock one and still complain when they did not want to be his friend.

"No, tha-"

"DRINK!" The chubby boy repeated himself more aggressively and grabbed Y/N's wrist to stop her from leaving before she could even try getting away. His fat fingers would definitely leave a mark later as she furiously tried to yank herself free.

"YOU ARE HURTING ME!" Y/N whined and buried her nails into his wrist, but the lost boy would not let go.

"It will be fun! Don't be such a lame ass." He gave back and tightened his grip. Felix, who had watched the whole scene from a distance, immediately jumped to his feet and stormed towards them, yanking the boy away and threw him violently into the mud. He gave him the most powerful kick that his anger would provoke, that the sound of the fat lost boy's scream caught everyone's attention.

"I will snap your fucking neck!" Felix threatened so calmly that the other boys would not even hear it as he pressed his jaw together, his hands forming into fists that his knuckles turned white. The chubby moonface groaned dizzy and turned onto his stomach, trying to lift himself drunkenly out of the sludge. With a closer look, Y/N understood why they all called him Piggy, instead of Mull. He turned his head confused around before he would drop back onto the ground again. The girl's eyes widened at the sight of this cruelty, even though she felt relieved and maybe a little entertained to see Piggy like this. He truly deserved it. On the other hand, she wondered why Felix came so quickly to help after he had tried his best to get out of her way. Y/N's cheeks burned up and she knew it would be the perfect moment to talk to him.

"Go." Felix said. He turned to her and shoved her gently away from the boys towards the tents. His big hand warmed her comfortably on her back, waking the butterflies in her stomach and causing her to shiver. The second in command rested one one of his arms on the girl's shoulder to keep his balance as he swayed between the tall bushes forwards between the trees.

"You should go to sleep." The lost boy said huskily, stopping in front of her tent, his grey eyes staring at the closed curtains. The excitement inside Y/N turned into disappointment when she saw where this actually went, so she stared irritated at the tent as Felix pulled his arm away and stepped away, slowly heading back.

"I am not tired!" Y/N gave back and knitted her brows together, confused why he just left her now. He could have stayed at the camp instead of joining her in the first place. Why come all this way up here? Felix's head spun around before turning back to stop right in front of the girl. He bent down to face her and made it possible to smell the alcohol in his breath as she stared into his gray eyes illuminated by the pale moonlight. The messy, ashen hair hung half over his face,- Y/N liked so many things about him and right now he was so perfect. He has never been that close before, except when he had tackled her.

"The boys aren't so well behaved," The second in command snickered. "Especially not in that state."

Y/N giggled when she thought of Felix acting like he was a good boy, after all those terrible things he did. There was a reason why he was second in command of this brutal gang and he proved it by the way he treated Piggy.

"And you're not?" She gave back quite bravely, raising an eyebrow cockily. Felix chuckled low to himself, slightly shaking his head before he gave her a smirk, showing his white palette of perfectly lined up teeth.

"If you want me to," Felix purred and wiggled with his brows. "I'll be whatever you want."

The girl felt goosebumps spread all over her body at his words and for a moment, she just stared speechless back at him, unable to say a word and wanting nothing more than kissing those pink lips. Felix was drunk, he could not think straight and definitely did not mean what he said. The lost boy's breath tickled hers and she noticed how close he was and how she just had to lean in, to steal a kiss. There was no way she would risk it, well aware that Pan loved games and she could not let the thought go, his best man would love them as well.

"Do you have any suggestions?" She asked as her nose touched his, her lips almost on his as she gently ran her hands over his chest. Felix ignored the question, moving instinctively and rough, grabbing Y/N's neck and pulling her in to close the distance between their mouths. His tongue was warm and tasted like liquor, still it did not bother her at all, when he vividly explored the inside of her mouth. Felix's hands vanished under her hair, grabbing her head and pressing the girl firmer against him while his intoxicated mind led his actions. Y/N gasped surprised into the kiss, not expecting him to do this even though it was what she wished for. Felix was way taller than her and for the moment he was forced to bend down at her height, holding her in his broad arms that pressed her tightly against his chest. When Felix’s pulled away, his eyes were still shut and he ran his thumb over Y/N's lips, licking his own and let out a gasp when he realised that he did not only imagined to do that. Then his eyes widened and she could see that he realised for the first time what just happened, what he just did.

"Sorry…" Felix mumbled unbelievingly and shook his head with widened eyes. He pushed her harshly away and rose to his feet, quickly checking full terror if someone had watched it.

"I was-" Felix spoke hoarse and slowly took a step back, then another one, a few more, until he turned on his heels and sprinted quickly away, not finishing what he tried to say.

Y/N stood there for a moment as if she were stuck in place, not able to process what just happened. With a swift movement she stormed through the curtains of her tent towards her bed to hide under the covers. She grabbed a pillow, held it against her face and screamed inside it. It was hard to tell if she felt excited or embarrassed. Felix kissed her, so why should she be worried about something? Maybe it was a test and she failed? Hell no, that would be some serious bullshit if that were the first explanation and she had seen his reaction. The way he held her and how he tasted heatened her up. Every cell inside her body craved for more.

No, what are you doing, she thought and shook her head, replaying that scenario in her head over and over again like a broken record. With a swift move she rolled onto her back and stared up at the curtain ceiling, hoping to find an answer to what her next step could be. If the lost boys would find out, they would never stop talking about it, maybe even start to think she was easy to have. Y/N gulped and squinted her eyes at the thought of them all trying to hit on her. Felix was different though. He was tall and intimidating, his cold stare would pierce through her with a burning desire and his smell intoxicated her mind. Whenever he was around, she could barely think straight, desperately wanting to figure out what laid beneath that cold facade. Never in a thousand years, she could have guessed that he liked her back. On the other hand, he was not able to make proper decisions drunkenly and maybe Y/N was encouraging herself too much. There was almost nothing she knew about the tall boy and falling for him that fast could only harm herself in the end.

Y/N closed her eyes and brought her fingers to her lips, touching them, while imaging to feel Felix's on them again and remember what they tasted like. The second in command barely spoke to her and now that? There was definitely more behind it. It had to. Her other hand slowly wandered over her stomach to pull up the dress, slipping a finger inside to play with herself. It was not the first time she thought of him while touching herself, but this time something was off. Deep inside her something stopped Y/N, no matter how aroused she already was. She needed to talk to Felix. Under no circumstances she would let him ignore her for days again. Yanking the blanket away, Y/N jumped out of the bed and eagerly left the tent, turning her head furiously around to find the tall boy. He did not sit next to the others anymore and when she walked downhill to his cabin, she could feel her heart pumping furiously inside her chest. The girl stopped in front of the wooden door to knock and when no one answered she knocked again.

"Felix!" She tried to be as loud as she could be while still not attracting someone else's attention. There was still no answer and she felt dumb for even thinking it was as easy as this to find him after the previous events. He could not be far, the lost boys still needed someone who had an eye on them before someone could get hurt. Their hollering was still audible and the bonfire in the distance let Y/N see a few of them behind the bushes. For a moment she thought of going back to the clearing again, hoping to find Felix there, but the thought of meeting Piggy alone now was no good.

"Y/N." The girl suddenly heard Felix’s raspy voice behind her and she turned dazzled around, the warmest smile sitting on her lips.

Felix swayed dizzily into her direction, closing the gap between them two while he tried to keep his balance. The lost boy's head was too high up, making it impossible to steal a kiss from him now.

"What are you doing here? I told you to sleep." He asked nervously and pulled her away from his cabin towards the trees, his head constantly turning to look if someone watched. When he placed his hand on the girl's back again, his touch sent electric waves through her spine and she wondered how his slender finger would feel on her bare skin.

"Did you drink more?" She asked, noticing how he swayed more and the second in command vividly shook his head in response, grinning like a small boy on a sunny day.

"You have."

"No."

"Yes."

"Uh-Uh."

"I can cleanly tell-"

"I am-," Felix grabbed Y/N gently by the back of her neck and pulled her in, his face coming closer again. "-Not. Drunk."

She started to laugh and leaned into his grip, bringing her own hand up to touch his scar. Felix's blue eyes melted when he felt her fingers, closing them and relaxing as her touch traced as light as a feather down his skin. He relaxed for a moment and enjoyed the touch on his scarred skin, before he suddenly woke out of trance.

"The boys better not see us." He cleared his throat and broke apart, letting go of her.

"No one saw us, Felix." His name echoed through the dark forest like honey and Y/N grabbed his hand tight- she was way smaller than his. The girl felt Felix's breath in her face, how his nose almost touched hers and before he could do anything she had already closed the gap between them two, pressing her lips against his. Felix moaned surprised into her mouth but instantly grabbed her cheeks and slid his tongue inside. She could still taste the liquor and wondered if she might have taken advantage of this situation. The tall boy's moans told her otherwise. He moved his hands slowly towards the girl's waist down to her ass, cupping it rough while her smell intoxicated his senses.

"We shouldn't." He whispered and she heard him move even though it was too dark to see. Nevertheless Felix pressed himself harder against her and she felt through his pants how hard he already was from only kissing.

"Why not." She breathed against his neck, leaving a trail of kisses.

"The boys," Felix said, his eyes rolling back with a soft moan when he felt her tongue on his throat. It was enough to convince the second in command, his fingers wandered over her delicate body, burying them inside her tender flesh. It's been a long time since someone touched Y/N and she could not resist the lost boy's demanding hands. He lifted her dress and wandered with his palm over her skin to the rim of the underwear, enjoying the small moans when his fingers wandered further to her inner thigh, drawing invisible circles on it.

"Felix…" His grip tightened when he heard the girl purr his sweet name in the most delicious way and he almost could not hold himself back to tear her clothes off right at this place. The lost boy dared to slip one of his fingers inside Y/N's panties and when she did not complain, he pushed his slender index inside of her, feeling how her soft walls tightened around him. If Felix had not realised it earlier, he knew at least by now how much she craved him when he felt how wet she already was. Y/N let out a gasp when he started to push his long finger in and out of her, causing the girl's legs to tremble and her knees to shiver in excitement. She closed her eyes, giving up trying to see something in the dark as she melted into Felix's arms, her face sliding down onto his shoulder. She found her balance by grabbing the lost boy's leg and then she realised that he was kneeling in front of her. Y/N was actually glad that the surroundings were pitch black, feeling her cheeks heating up in embarrassment from her uncontrollable sweet moans. Before she would absolutely lose her mind, the girl managed to push the lost boy slightly away from her while her hands moved down to his belt. Her fingertips ran over the leather and the lost boy instantly frowned at her touch, his whole body stiffened and he stopped moving for a second.

"W-wait." He stammered, the adrenaline pushing the dizziness of the alcohol away. "I-I… never…" he continued and stopped, his hands wrapped around Y/N's wrist, insecurities overwhelming him as he held her in a safe distance. Now she really wished to see his face, well aware that he must look like earlier when he kissed her, startled and somehow shy.

"Well," she replied after a small pause, her voice echoing clear through the night, "Neither have I."

There was an awkward silence between them two and if the lost boy would not hold her by her hips, she would probably believe he was gone by now. The second in command was embarrassed for no reason, what did he fear? Y/N had no clue how to do this and if she was honest, it was way more appealing that Felix was a virgin, too, even though she did not expect that. All the time she thought he was so confident and now he was so vulnerable to her. The lost boy still did not speak, so she bent into another kiss, hoping to catch his lips in the dark. Felix gasped when he felt her lips on his scar and pulled the girl back in. This was good, they did not need to talk- should not talk. It would only make this weird. Talking would come naturally. Felix grabbed Y/N's hands gently and brought them back to his belt for her to continue what she had started. She let her fingers trail over the leather to his buckle to open it, enjoying the moment when she opened the button of his pants and slowly pulled down his zipper. The lost boy moaned inside her mouth when she slid her hand into his pants, pumping his hardened cock as best as the tight cotton would allow her to. Felix noticed her struggle and broke apart from the kiss to lift himself up and take off his clothes. Y/N heard how each piece of clothing dropped onto the ground while she waited to be told to do the same.

"Should I keep my dress on or-"

"Keep it on." Felix ordered and chuckled to himself, then pulled her back against him, his cock pressing against her stomach. The lost boy let his hands slide under the girl's dress and pulled down her panties for more access, then kneeled naked in front of her while his fingers did their magic. They felt so long and strange, making Y/N wonder if she could even handle Felix's cock. He already felt so big in her hand when she touched him again, fully exposed and hardened. The lost boy lifted one of her legs over his broad shoulder and before Y/N could even figure out what he was doing, Felix pressed his tongue against her clit. She let out a surprised gasp and giggled at the ticklish sensation. The lost boy felt how tense her leg was and reached for the girl's hand, holding it and drawing invisible circles on her palm.

"Relax." He lifted his head and lightly squeezed her fingers, caressing it a little, then pushed his mouth against her slit, his hot breath warming her as his tongue slid over her clit. The comfort of his touch relaxed Y/N instantly as if the lost boy had enchanted her somehow. He pressed his rough tongue harder against her, burying his face between her legs as he ate her out. The girl could not control herself to keep her from moaning, but led the boy's pace with it, whenever something felt good. He buried his nails into the tender flesh of her thighs and with a swift move he pushed the girl down onto the ground, pushing his fingers faster into her. She could not tell which was tongue or fingers, the overflowing sensation spread inside her body up to her eyes as she felt how she got closer to her orgasm. When Felix’s jaw started to ache he broke apart, breathing heavily and leaving Y/N craving for more on the cold ground in the exact moment she would almost finish. Without saying a word the lost boy pulled himself up to her, placing some sloppy kisses on her mouth before placing his arms next to her, so that his weight would not be too much.

"I want you so much." He panted while he slowly let his thumb circle over her aroused clit.

"Felix-" She pressed her lips onto his and stroked his hardened dick and pulled his torso closer to lead him to her wet entrance. The lost boy let out an uncontrollable moan as he pressed his dick against her dripping slit that already craved him so hard, slowly gliding in to make the girl feel every piece of his mighty cock. He stayed in this position for a moment to adjust this feeling and Y/N felt herself tighten around him, excitement overwhelming her body along with the smell of the lost boy intoxicating her mind.

"Fuck!" Felix hissed as he started to move in a steady motion. His lips caught her once more, pulling her into a long, passionate kiss. Y/N took a sharp breath and pushed her hand against his abdomen, when the lost boy moved, feeling like getting torn apart by him. The lost boy stopped for a moment, shoving one arm under her neck to hold her while his lips softly traced over her chest. After a short moment, Felix moved again. Y/N buried her nails into his skin and rolled her eyes back as the lost boy thrusted into her core, slowly feeling herself relaxing in this position after a few strokes. The pain faded away and she melted into Felix's body as if he was meant to hold her. The sweetest words kept unsaid, too embarrassing, too emotional, still, there was something inside them both that felt more than just enjoying sex. It was Felix who took her virginity and the thought of being the one who took his let her heart skip faster. The second in command felt like a dream,- his sweaty, hot skin pressed tight against hers, his abs flexed and hardened during every move and he was just so fucking tall. Felix moved both of his hands down and cupped her naked butt, lifting Y/N up and pressing her against the bark of a tree. He buried his fingers into her tender flesh and left a trail of kisses on her neck as far as he would reach her. The lost boy held Y/N as if she weighed nothing, pressing her body tightly against his skin. She could not resist sinking her teeth into his neck, sucking on the delicate spot until she was sure he would not leave without a mark. As soon as Felix realised what she was doing, he pulled her head back by her hair. To his own surprise, she let out a light moan, feeling even more excited from his big hand in them.

"The boys can't know." Felix purred into Y/N's ear before he licked over her neck, sinking his teeth lightly into her shoulder to hold him back from letting out another moan.

"Harder!" The girl commanded for Felix's surprise, who had already thought he was already being too rough with her. The lost boy followed the order, pressing himself tighter against her before he paced up, pumping in and out. The sudden sensation flooded Y/N's body and she knew there was something building up inside her, an indescribable feeling of being high. Felix moans got higher, sometimes even stuck in his throat and she was sure he was close too and that he desperately wanted to climax. Before she could realise it, Felix swayed them back onto the ground, gripping her ankles and pressing them against his legs as she wrapped her arms around his neck to capture the lost boy in another kiss.

"I am almost-" Felix spoke in a hoarse tone. It was so dark and Y/M really wished she could see his face at this moment. Felix was so vulnerable right now and even though his moans were the most beautiful melody in her ears, just the thought of a short glimpse of his face made her feel hotter.

"Felix." She purred when he suddenly hit a spot that would not stop making her feel like being on ecstasy.

"I-." She gasped when the knot inside her stomach released and she felt her orgasm roaring through her body with thousands of tiny, electric waves. Jaw clenched and eyes pinched, Felix gave it to her in short, powerful bursts, filling her up with throbbing pumps. His abs flexed and his hands tightened around her ankles. He cursed. His body tensed, and she swore she felt his cock pulsing inside of her as he came in waves, thrusting in and out until he felt himself getting soft.

"Fuck…" Felix let her legs fall to the side as he bent to rest his head on her sweaty chest. "That was…"

She combed her fingers through his messy hair, almost out of words how incredibly good she felt. "That was something."

"Yeah." He kissed the spot between her breasts, "It was."

Felix pulled his dick out, not even seeing the mess he made but still wanting more. Neither of them wanted that night to end and for a while, Felix tried to find his clothes and Y/N thought of how she would clean herself up.

"C'mon." Felix whispered and she heard him step away.

"Wait!" Y/N called and quickly grabbed her underwear- well, the only choice right now-, cleaning herself with it, before running after the tall blonde and crashing into his back.

"Easy, love." He chuckled and grabbed her under one of his arms and strutted towards the dark in one direction, knowing this place perfectly, even drunkenly and without light.

"Where are we going?" The girl asked after what felt like an eternity for her, but in reality it was just a few minutes. The trees left some space for the moonlight now and gave her a chance to take a peak from the second in command's happy face. His cheeks were dyed a deep scarlet and his hair hung messy and full sweat down his face.

"Trust me." He said and paced a little up before he came to halt in front of a big tree, the ladder up to it vanished behind some leaves. Felix climbed up first and lifted the girl up into the tree house when reached the trap door. Felix moved towards a small night desk and lit up a candle. As soon as the light flooded the room, Y/N saw the small cot and a self-made desk under one of the closed windows.

"I built it myself." The lost boy grinned and proudly watched the awe in her face. She swirled around and looked at some little carvings that were placed on the wooden table. Some of them looked like her. When Y/N's eyes detected the little sculpture, she finally understood why she never saw the results and why he burned one earlier. The girl turned around to say something, but Felix stopped her immediately. Before she could say anything, Felix dropped down onto one knee and pulled her into a kiss. His tongue slid over her lips, begging for permission to enter. Without thinking about it, she opened her mouth and felt the lost boy's hand on her hips, pressing her against his body.

"I never thought you would like me too." Felix moaned and eagerly kissed his way down her neck, back to her face and lips, repeating the same thing on the other side and showing how hungry he still was for the girl. Felix clearly had not been touched in a while, just like Y/N, so it was quite natural that they immediately would have a moment like this sooner or later. But why Felix? What was about him that made Y/N constantly crave more, causing her to feel like an addict without his drugs, whenever his lips left hers? Her cheeks heated up and she smiled in the kiss, thinking of the previous events, how Felix's hands felt on her skin. It was special to be with him and the girl's instincts told her that it was more than just sex, that Felix wanted more, too.

"I want you again." Felix licked over his lips and looked at Y/N through half-opened eyes before he slowly melted back into another kiss, this time slow and passionate, synchronising with her while his hands moved down her hips and legs. He gently rubbed his hand against her inner thigh and wandered towards her crotch, to shove a finger inside her still wet hole. He smirked dirty when he felt his mess. Y/N wanted him so much, just like he craved her, maybe even a little more.

"I want to get naked all night long." Felix purred as he pushed his fingers inside and out of Y/N, her light moans echoing in his ears. Without further commands, the girl slipped the dress over her shoulder, letting it elegantly slide down her now exposed body. Felix's cheeks flushed up into the deepest red, his eyes admiring every sight of her that he desired for so long, and truth be told, he was in awe. When the cotton touched the floor, the lost boy grabbed for the hem of his own shirt and ripped it off, then quickly unbuttoned his pants before he crossed them with his underwear through the room. When Felix pinned her down and pulled Y/N into another kiss, he was already hard again, his hot skin burning against hers as her mind drifted off into a feeling of ecstasy. The way Felix's hands trailed down her body gave her chills once more, kept her warm and made her feel wanted.

"Pan would kill us for this." She mumbled into the kiss when the girl thought of how he protected her earlier, something he never did before and sure did not keep unnoticed to the other boys as well. It worried Y/N for a moment, thinking about how Pan always found out every secret, no matter how little it was. And this was definitely not a small secret, something that could be obvious to others. Or maybe Y/N was just paranoid.

"Relax." Felix said, frowning at her words as if the same thought had bothered him for a while now, too. "He isn't here. He won't find out."

The blonde boy rolled over onto his back, pulling the girl with him so she would straddle him. The light of the candle danced over his sharp features, letting it shine in an orange light that spread down to his muscles, constantly catching her eyes as if they were glued on him. Felix always looked beautiful in the orange light of the fire. Every night she would catch herself staring at him. He was perfect.

"You look so beautiful." Felix whispered more to himself than to her, then wiped some hair out of her face. "Unbelievable that someone like you chose someone weird like me."

Before Y/N could correct him, the second in command already captured her lips with his own, burying one hand in her hair while he kneaded one of her breasts with the other one. His words only flattered the girl and she felt the burning desire to finally be one with him again and melt into his body. Felix gasped at her touch and moaned into her mouth when she wrapped her hand around his dick, slowly pumping up and down while gently rubbing at the delicate tip. His member felt long and thick in her hands, but did not scare her off like earlier. Placing the tip at her wet entrance, she slowly slid down onto him, relieved that the lost boy did not push against back,. The stretching feeling made her feel like getting torn apart all over again and she gave herself a moment to adjust to the size. The lost boy rolled his eyes back and shut them with a loud moan when he felt her walls tightened around, rubbing his thumbs against the tender flesh of her hips, when she finally started to slowly move up and down. Seeing the ruthless second in command like this was really stunning and lovely to look at. Felix's mouth was slightly agape and the muscles on his forehead were constantly twitching, moving his eyebrows constantly around. Never had Y/N seen so much emotion in his face before. She pressed her body against the lost boy and sucked at the tender part of Felix's neck. The lost boy used that moment as a chance to turn her over, holding Y/N tight in his arm, the other one holding his weight so he would not suffocate her while he was pumping in and out. Y/N moaned in ecstasy and ran her hands over his muscular back, feeling his skin against them and how his sweat dropped onto her body. She placed her legs on each side of his, clearly noticing the height difference and feeling like a delicate doll as he embraced her. Felix paced up and she rolled her eyes back when he entered in another angle to come even deeper. She never wanted this to stop and kept feeling how the lost boy filled her with his thick manhood, smelling his scent and feeling his hot skin burning against hers. Felix kissed his way down to her chest and caught one of her nipples between his lips, lightly starting to suck on them and intensing it with each time he thrusted in. These were the final strokes that caused Y/N's legs to shiver and tense up every muscle in her body as her climax roared through her whole body, up into her eyes into the back of her head. The lost boy grabbed Y/N's shoulders and when he came, too, the light of the candles danced in his beautiful, scrunched up face. It was a lie to say she did not like that view and the squeaking sound he made when Felix felt his orgasm deep inside her with throbbing pumps. Felix rolled next to the girl, trying to catch his breath and when he did so, he grabbed a towel from the bed for her.

"We could have used the bed." Y/N broke the soothing silence after a while and Felix chuckled, then nodded in agreement.

"Next time." He grinned, pulling his boxers up and placing himself back onto the ground. His eyes did not stop looking at the girl while she grabbed her dress and pulled it back over herself. For a long time they just looked at each other, laughing and giggling, kissing each other but remaining silent. This was clearly something none of them expected to happen.

"What do you see in me?" Y/N suddenly asked, caughting the lost boy off guard, his facial expression went into full confusion. It took him a moment to think about her question before he simply smiled. His eyes would always melt at her sight and in that moment she needed no words from him to realise how much he was in love with her. The lost boy pulled Y/N closer to him and placed her head against his chest, lifted her on his arms and carried her to the bed where he would let himself fall onto the soft mattress. His legs hung over the wooden frame as he gently rubbed his hands over her back while listening to the beat of his heart.

"I would never let anyone harm you." His voice was just a warm breeze on her earlobe, tickling her like a gentle kiss.

"What about Pan?" She asked after a while and took a glimpse at his relaxed face and how her question did not seem to have woken any worries inside him now. He had brushed it off earlier.

"I think, actually, he knew way before me." Felix chuckled low and shook his head unbelieving. "He gave me a chance I got wasted."

#felix ouat #ouat felix #parker croft #ouat felix imagine #ouat felix x reader #ouat felix smut

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lepusrufus · 4 years ago

Text

Double edged scalpel ch. 3

Ch.1 Ch.2

Summary: "it matches your eyes"

----

Cleaning Cassandra’s study became routine. Once a week, her chores were swapped for a two way -for now- trip to the dungeons. Despite every other maid looking at her with utter pity in their eyes, the redhead was not really complaining. She would take Cassandra’s mock autopsies and weird collection of specimens over dusting an ancient opera hall any day. It gave her an odd sense of nostalgia, almost as if she was back with her classmates studying forensic pathology and a friend threatening to throw a severed hand at her.

She also got to see glimpses of Cassandra. Not that they talked, oh no, the brunette would simply observe her and come up with the occasional task to get a raise out of Nicole and, when it failed to do so, she would grumpily go back to whatever she was doing prior. Her study, however, was an open book. While cleaning the shelves by the desk, Nicole took her time to read the title on each and every worn spine of her books. A lot of them more or less outdated medical books, some relatively modern looking textbooks, even an occasional novel tucked in between its more science oriented siblings. The adjacent wall was full of what looked like hand drawn diagrams, messy notes pinned by tape or even sticky notes. Nicole even noticed a family photo taped to that same wall. It was black and white, with the castle’s courtyard in the background, the three sisters standing in front of their mother.

Cassandra was sitting in her chair, occupying herself with her sickle when all of a sudden she stilled. She pulled out her pocket watch, softly cursed under her breath and pushed herself out of the chair. She was about to exit the room when she probably realized that Nicole was not supposed to be there by herself.

“Ugh...Follow me. I can’t leave you here alone and I need to get something.”

With the mop abandoned by a wall, Nicole followed the brunette’s hurried steps through the main hallways of the castle, occasionally crossing paths with another staff member. It took no more than five minutes to get to their destination. Bela and Daniela could be heard from inside a room near the castle’s main entrance when Cassandra pushed open its ornate door and stepped inside. Nicole took two steps behind her when a familiar voice called out.

“Ah, Nicole darling! I see you’ve settled in,” Duke said in his usual cheerful tone.

It did little to stop her stomach from sinking a little when three sets of golden eyes snapped in her direction. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care when he went on. “I hope my favorite clients here are treating you well.” Oh god please shut up. “Lady Cassandra! Your package is also here.”

She wordlessly took a wrapped box from him and, with a thanks, went out the door. Not wanting to fall behind, Nicole gave Duke a small wave and a smile before turning around to follow. She had to almost jog to keep up with her long strides. Damn you short legs.

“How on earth do you know him?” Cassandra’s question was accompanied by narrowed eyes.

Was there any point in lying? Lady Dimitrescu already knew so her ever so nice middle daughter could always find out too.

“He’s the one that brought me here.”

“From the village?”

Nicole rubbed her temples. “From a hotel bar in the nearest big city.” She was beyond done with this conversation.

Cassandra stopped in her tracks, grabbing the other girl's shoulders when she almost crashed into her. Was that a genuine trace of concern in her eyes?

“You mean you’re not from here? Does mother know?”

Nicole nodded, but before she had time to add anything else, another voice called out for the brunette from behind the pair. It was Bela, the sound of heels on the marble floors echoing around them as she approached.

“Cassandra, dinner is in two hours.”

“And?”

“And you said you would take care of the meat. Did you?”

The blonde scoffed at her sister’s widened eyes, then hooked a finger around the chain connected to Cassandra’s watch and clicked her tongue when she saw the time.

“If you insist on carrying this around at all times, you could at least start making use of it. You have around twenty minutes.” Her voice was icy cold, as opposed to Cassandra’s stammered reply.

“Wait, can you stall the cook for a bit, there’s no way I can do two bodies in twenty minutes!”

“Sorry Cassandra, that’s out of my hands.” And with that, the blonde turned on her heels and left the two of them at the entrance of the dungeons, Cassandra damn near seething.

The two wasted no time in hastily descending the stony dungeon steps, Nicole going back to the study while Cassandra went towards the cells. After no more than two minutes, she came in and haphazardly threw a body on each table.

The most logical thing to do would be to go about her chores and not risk attracting the brunette's wrath upon herself. But logic was out the window the moment she stepped foot into the Duke's caravan to come to this place. Besides, staying on Cassandra's good side was far better than mopping the floor in hopes she wouldn't snap one day and throw her in one of the moldy cells.

"Would you like some help with those?" Nicole asked tentatively.

"Can you help?" Cassandra didn't even look in her direction, only throwing a hand in the air and taking out what looked like freezer safe bags from a cupboard.

"...Yeah."

Golden eyes turned to her and the brunette stilled for a second. Skepticism and confusion both obvious on her face at the idea of this small meek maid offering to help out in chopping up a human body. She realized however that the alternative wasn't much better so with a raised eyebrow she put a scalpel and a pair of gloves on the table closest to Nicole.

"Suit yourself. And don't make a mess." Oh you're to talk.

Now, admittedly, performing an autopsy wasn't exactly the same as straight up butchering a human body for consumption. How different would it be though? The organs just needed to be separated and the limbs cut. She tried not to look at the face while making the first incision.

---

It took 17 minutes for both of them to finish. All the bits and pieces were separated and secured in bags just in time for a knock on the door. Cassandra threw her gloves in the sink and went to open it, letting an older woman only vaguely familiar to Nicole inside.

"Lady Cassandra, I didn't know you had help," she raised an eyebrow at the redhead awkwardly standing by the table she had worked at, scalpel still in hand.

Cassandra only grimaced and with mock cheerfulness in her voice said, "Surprise."

The older woman, presumably the cook, motioned for the maids that came with her to take the bags and, with a slight bow of the head to Cassandra, they were gone, only the bloody mess on the tables left behind. The brunette let a sigh escape past her lips and turned to Nicole. Her yellow gaze examined the now bloody uniform for a moment.

"A shame this got dirty," she said, approaching the redhead.

Tiredness and holding her tongue never mixed well within Nicole, so at the obviously fake apologetic tone she allowed an edge of snark into her reply.

"Oh don't worry, the maids are all quite good at washing out blood stains. It's part of the job requirements."

Cassandra just chuckled and rolled her eyes at the sass.

"Just ask the head chambermaid for a replacement. This is seriously ruined," she said toying with the hem of Nicole's white blouse, now soaked in crimson. "Your face however, we can still salvage that."

Nicole furrowed her brows and brought a hand to her cheek, cursing herself under her breath upon realizing that she was still wearing the bloody gloves and had just smeared even more on her face. She took them off and threw them on a cleaner spot on the table to be retrieved later. Meanwhile, the brunette moved to the sink and returned shortly with a damp handkerchief.

She grabbed Nicole's chin between two slender fingers and tilted her head upward. Nicole could feel the metal of the table's edge against her lower back when she instinctively tried taking a step back. She had no way of escaping. Not that escaping even as much as grazed the surface of her mind when she locked eyes with Cassandra, an uncharacteristic sort of softness in her gaze. She took her sweet time passing the damp fabric over the blood stained skin. Then, after she seemed content with her handywork, she dragged her fingers over Nicole's cheek in a caress that sent a small shiver down the redhead's spine.

"There. Good as new," the brunette hummed.

It was a complete lie and they both knew it. The blush now present on Nicole's cheeks was probably just as bad as the crimson stains she was sporting mere moments ago, she was quite sure of that. By some mercy of the crow woman these people worshipped though, Cassandra didn't acknowledge it and simply moved back to her desk, leaving Nicole frozen in place.

After a few seconds of silence, Cassandra chuckled and, without turning from whatever she was scribbling in a notebook, said:

"Those tables won't clean themselves darling."

Oh shut the fuck up.

---

Most staff members preferred to spend their free time in the gardens, be it the inner courtyard or the fenced in garden at the back of the estate. Nicole was no exception to that. When she had time, she liked to grab a hot cup of tea and sit down in this small nook of the garden where a small, almost knee high bench was overshadowed by large rose bushes. Nobody else seemed to come there if the old cracked wood of the small seat was anything to go by, except maybe the gardener for occasional maintenance but she was nowhere to be seen most times.

The quiet was interrupted by a distant set of heavy steps. Steps that Nicole ignored. She wasn't in any off limits area and this was her day off. She wasn't doing anything wrong and, therefore, had no reason to believe whoever was walking around was there for her. Until the steps became louder and the sound of heels clear on the stony path.

"There you are," Cassandra's voice almost made Nicole spit out the tea she was currently drinking.

The brunette laughed at that, in an oddly good mood and stopped to stand in front of the redhead. Cassandra's "good mood" made Nicole highly suspicious given past experience. She set her cup down and, with a cough to clear out her offended airways, stood and addressed the brunette.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, my lady?" Aside from having my one free day interrupted. Again.

She saw Cassandra pout for a brief moment but it was quickly replaced by her ever so characteristic smirk. A smirk that Nicole would never admit was awfully attractive paired with the sharp features of her face. At least not out loud.

"I have wonderful news for you," she said, tilting Nicole's head up with a hand, thumb distractingly close to her lips. "Cynthia, our cook, said she really appreciated the way you sectioned that body last week. So mother decided to give you a ...promotion so to speak."

Nicole had yet to decide whether this was indeed wonderful news or not, but the part of her brain that was seeking some kind of thrill made that decision for her when Cassandra leaned in close to her ear, lips tantalizingly close to the skin.

"Congratulations, from now on you're only working with me in the dungeons."

Cassandra didn't want to kill her did she? She did say that Nicole was intriguing to her and therefore the redhead was somewhat safe from ending up on one of the autopsy tables herself. At least that's what she told that part of her mind still somewhat concerned about self preservation that was screaming at how risky her next move was.

She gingerly placed her hands on the brunette's hips, tilting her head in a way not unlike Cassandra did mere moments ago.

"Does that mean I get to teach you proper autopsy technique?"

Thankfully that got a chuckle out of her, moving back just enough to be able to look into Nicole's green eyes. "Assuming you manage to keep your tongue long enough."

She couldn't do much more than let out a soft laugh at the absurdity of her situation. There she was, in the garden of a castle in the middle of nowhere with the Lady's sadistic daughter mere inches from her. She decided that at that point in her life if she was going to die, she may as well go out in style, and what on earth could top falling for one of the most dangerous women in a village full of horrors. She shifted her hand slightly, bumping into the handle of the sickle strapped to Cassandra's waist.

"May I?" She said barely above a whisper, fingers wrapping loosely around the weapon.

Cassandra gave her an incredulous look, trying to understand what on earth she could want with the weapon. She was aware she couldn't hurt her right?

A small shrug was all the permission Nicole needed. She undid the leather strap that kept the sickle in place and moved back only a bit. Enough to step on the small bench and lift herself. She felt Cassandra's hands placed on her waist for support, almost mimicking the gentleness of Nicole's touch from earlier, when she raised herself on her tiptoes. She took hold of one of the roses above them -a yellow one- and with a quick swipe she cut the stem. The brunette watched her take her sweet time scraping off any thorns before her hood was taken off and that same rose was now placed in her dark wavy hair, right above her left ear.

"Mm… it matches your eyes. And necklace," Nicole added, bending down to return the sickle to its rightful place.

Cassandra crashed their lips the next second, her hands pulling Nicole closer from where they were placed on her hips. After a second of shocked stillness, the kiss was returned, their lips tentatively sliding against each other. "Tentatively" didn't last long however, as Cassandra pushed forward, pressing the her against the stone wall behind them eliciting a small moan from Nicole, who's hand ended up tangled in black locks. She tugged on them slightly once she finally needed to breathe and Cassandra pulled back only a bit. She let their foreheads rest against each other and felt Nicole's soft laugh on her lips.

"Do you even need to breathe?"

"No," the brunette answered simply.

Nicole blinked in confusion, not expecting her half joke to turn out truthful but before she could speak, Cassandra took a hand off her waist and pulled something out of a pocket.

"Here," she pushed a familiar looking object into the redhead's hands.

"Y...Your key to the dungeons?" She was still trying to get her thoughts organized into some sort of coherence when Cassandra rolled her eyes.

"It's a copy. So I don't have to escort you every time you come down there, which," she added with a gloved finger brushing against her lower lip, "is gonna be more frequent now."

Nicole nodded, not really trusting her words. She didn't need any though, as Cassandra simply pushed herself off the wall and turned on her heels to leave.

"See you tomorrow at dawn."

And with a smirk, she broke into a swarm of flies and disappeared down the stony path.

#youre either gonna love this or despise it bc of the pacing #hey i never said i was a GOOD writer #cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #unhinged maiden™ my beloved #double edged scalpel #fanfic

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bikerjongho · 3 years ago

Text

welcoming song | song mingi

genre: supernatural, horror

characters: vampire!mingi ft. vampire!jongho

description: After a millennium of imprisonment for crimes, the dark, powerful, and vampiric Lord Song returns home and catches up with his life that passed him by.

word count: 4.5k

warnings: violence, murder, explicit mentions of a dead body, blood

author’s note: happy birthday mingi and welcome back from your hiatus!! I hope your day is amazing, special, and you enjoy it to the fullest <3 and now onto evil vampires.

taglist: @itsapapisongo @mangomingki @irehlevant @blueprint-han @doievoir

For thousands of years, the Song mansion had withstood the test of time. Nestled in the dead-center of a lush forest, the mansion had proved itself to have incognito techniques as only few ever found it. Lucky travelers and explorers would get to experience the towering and magnificent architecture of the home, the addicting fragrances of the flowers that seemed to never die, and the unnaturally clear pool of water that looked to be the drink of the gods. All of this was available for them to drink in, and yet they were still thirsty, for if the outside was as glorious as it was, surely the inside would prove similar.

No sooner did these travelers step foot on the marble staircase leading to the doorway did the hidden arrows built into the bird feeders release and rob them of life. Wild bears and decomposers alike took delight in the delicacy of human flesh lying quite literally at their front door. When the mess was cleaned by the hungry animals, the stage would again be set for another unsuspecting victim to be drawn in by the beauty of the mansion. Because while the mansion had the looks and was clearly adept at drawing people in, the mansion was not to be entered by anyone other than the owner. And he hadn't stepped inside in over a thousand years.

The travelers were correct in assuming that the inside of the mansion was beautiful. Much like how the outside of the mansion lured in curious travelers to the front porch only to be transported to the doorstep of the afterlife, the inside swarmed with even more beauty. But this beauty was not soft and warm like the outside. It was as sharp as a blade, and just as piercing as an animal's teeth gnawing on meat.

There were over fifty vampires in this mansion, each adorned with fangs and priceless clothing. The vampires had been living inside the Song mansion since the days where it was new, and they worked hard to conserve its attractive looks. Though their hearts didn't beat, they moved with the swiftness of the most nimble humans and worked endlessly for the hope that one day, Lord Song would return.

Every golden piece of pottery was glimmering at all times, and the floors were like mirrors because of how reflective they always were. Cleaning in this household was no issue because of the sheer amount of vampires that were in this mansion, but there was also never anyone to mess up any of their work. The pillows were always too fluffed and the fireplace too kindled, and this was like that because of the hope that Lord Song would return. The mansion had to look spotless and perfect, to tell him that even after a thousand years, his servants were still as servile to him as they had been before he had been taken from them so unexpectedly.

But unbeknownst to the vampires, the anniversary of one millennium had passed and the prison sentence for a man was finally lifted. Black and buckled boots made their way through the forest, a cloak of the same color billowing behind the wearer. The traveler inhaled sharply when he saw the immortal beauty of the mansion, and increased his speed to the front porch. As usual, the sharp arrows shot out from their hiding places to pierce the newcomer, but the newcomer knew of this trick. After all, he was the one that had installed it.

A pale hand shot out and caught the sharp arrow. His eyes swiveled to the left to glance at the point of the arrow that was only inches from his face, inspecting it. Then, with a swift flick of his wrist, the arrow was snapped in two.

Mingi Song had arrived home at last.

His knock at the door sent reverberations across the entire mansion, and every vampire snapped their heads to the direction of the sudden noise. There hadn't been a knock at the door in a thousand years.

A small child with a mop of black hair and eyes as big as tennis balls clung to his mother's dress and stared at the door. His small fangs dug into his teeth and he huddled in close to his mother in fear. "Did the arrows-" he whispered, but his mother cut him off.

"The arrows never miss."

She said this with a shake in her voice, and all of the vampires could hear it. All eyes, red, black, yellow ones, were glued to the door and this mysterious visitor that had somehow bypassed their impenetrable security.

Finally, a vampire woman with long and silky black hair stepped forward towards the door in a move of bravery. Her hand shook as she grabbed the cold handle of the brass doorknob. She turned around and looked at her vampiric brethren. When Lord Song had been taken to jail because of his war crimes, none were given an estimate of when he would return. Many thought he had died. The majority held it within themselves that he would return someday. This person at the door, whoever they were, was not just some traveller. They could have been another vampire from the Song family taking ownership over them, or an entirely different vampire that wanted to kill them all or take them for their own.

But none of them truly expected Lord Song to be at the doorstep.

The all-familiar sight of his crimson red eyes caused most of the children vampires to burst into bloody tears. Mothers and fathers gathered them in a hug to soothe them, but couldn't close their mouths while they gaped at their Lord Song.

Prison had hardened him, but in the same way that polish on metal made the hard material shine even brighter. Despite being immortal, he looked older, but he had a new glint to his sharp, red eyes that suggested that the recklessness of his youth had subsided. His hair had been a tangy orange upon his arrest, and now it was a dark and jet black that rested over his forehead. He was tall as ever with a commanding presence that was frightful to enemies and comforting to friends.

His crimson eyes glanced over all of the vampires in his walkway. Some had been on the second floor and were frozen over the banister at his sight.

"Lord Song," a vampire finally said. "You've returned."

Mingi held out his arms and enveloped a child running towards him, smiling as he spun her around and she giggled with glee. "You all seem well," he said, and many of the vampires began to fan themselves to stop tears from running.

He placed the child back into the ground and walked forward. His knee connected with a small and wooden table by the entrance to the foyer, and the potted plant that had been placed on it tipped and shattered onto the floor.

Mingi's eyes were wide with shock, but this only caused even more tears and happiness within the crowd of vampires.

"Lord Song, I'll clean it up!" a woman cried.

"I will! It's my pleasure!" Another sobbed.

A millennium of meaningless dusting, sweeping, and wiping for anticipation of Lord Song now had meaning. And for the vampires of Lord Song, cleaning was the least they could do to show their admiration and loyalty to him.

A child pushed away from his mother and, disregarding a dust pan and broom another vampire had ran in with, began picking up the glass pieces with his bare hands. Blood prickled on his palms before spilling out onto the floor as he cleaned.

Mingi, surprised only moments ago, was grinning at the child. "Why, thank you," he said softly, then stepped over the child like he was a toy in the way of his steps. His long and black cloak brushed over the child's head without concern. Some of the vampires had fallen to their knees. Others averted their gaze to hide the tears of happiness in their eyes.

"Lord Song," a man sobbed. "I've missed you. You've returned."

"Tell us of your troubles that you faced while you were gone so that we might soothe you," another suggested, wiping away their bloody red tears with a white cloth.

Mingi surveyed all of them with his eyes, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants. "I'd like that," he said after a minute. "You all have kept this home in perfect condition. Let us have a drink while I tell my tales." He smiled with a glimmer in his eyes. "There's much to say. A millennium, however short that is in our lifetime of forever, is still long."

The beautiful and enormous dining hall, which had been bare and dull for a millennium, was waking back up with Lord Song's presence. The vampires cracked open aged blood and ushered Mingi into the hall with the grace of a palace servant. One pulled out his seat for him, while another was unfastening his traveling cloak and black gloves. The rest ogled at him like he was a magnificent piece of art in a museum.

Fancy glasses that hadn't seen light in so long were shining by the light of the chandeliers and candles. The cool, crimson liquid in the glasses swirled around as the vampires amused Lord Song with stories and tales that had been thousands of years in the making. A little boy excitedly told Mingi about the new species of bacteria that had spread around the mansion in the course of six months over three hundred years ago, and his mother told the story of the wild pack of bears that had nearly ransacked the house, stopped only by the mansion's poisonous and lethal breed of ants that lived in the lawn. But it all ceased when the binder of suitors was brought to the table.

A vampire with a monocle and poster straighter than a board dumped a six inch binder in front of Mingi with no preamble. He adjusted his tie while Mingi raised his eyebrows, and the rest of the vampires grinned at him with their fangs expectantly.

"Much time has passed during your absence," the monocled vampire began, and Mingi recognized him as one of the sparse British vampires in the mansion because of his accent. "We had grown bored of boredom during your absence. Days and years passed us by with a wink. Isolation can make you do many things," he said, and tapped the binder with his pointer finger.

"This is a matchmaker binder," he began, and Mingi's eyes widened as the vampire flipped it open and he was greeted with tens of faces on each page. There must have been thousands of pages. "We weren't sure if you liked men or women, or both, so we have everyone," he said casually, and flipped from a grouping of women to a section of men.

"My God," Mingi breathed. "Pray tell, why-"

"She's pretty, isn't she?" The vampire asked and pointed to a woman in the binder with dark hair down to her shoulders.

"Yes," Mingi began, but the vampires were too excited to let him speak.

"I like this one," cut another one, pointing to a man with blonde hair and a large smile. "He's also a Lord. I would marry him if I wasn't so low class."

"This one looks like he could kiss me until the sun rises," a girl sighed and pointed to a man in the binder. "And then we'd evaporate together. That's love, isn't-"

"Enough," Mingi said abruptly, pushing away the binder from himself and silencing the vampires. "Enough," he repeated, rubbing his brow.

"What's the matter?" The original vampire that had given him the binder asked. A hundred pairs of eyes leaned in closer for his response.

"Why did you do this?" Mingi sighed, looking at all of his vampires with contempt. He lifted the glass of blood to his lips and took a long drink. A hundred pairs of eyes watched every last drop dribble into his mouth, and then he set down the glass. "This is childish."

At that, many of the vampires sunk into each other in embarrassment. The monocled vampire coughed. "You are a fine man," he said simply. "We thought it would be a good idea to get you interested in the vampires available so you may extend the Song family for millennia to come. Many vampires of your class in recent years have found that marriage is a wonderful experience to behold in life."

"And as soon as I got back from my imprisonment was your best time to tell me about this?" Mingi snapped and the monocled vampire bowed his head in shame. "I was hoping to share my stories, not engage in some mindless and useless talks about love."

The vampires hung their heads. "I'm sorry, Lord Song," the monocled vampire lamented, sliding the enormous binder off the table and securing it in his arms. "We won't bring it up again."

A little vampire, a girl that looked no more than eight years old, appeared next to Mingi. "Lord Song," she spoke in a voice that was small but had hundreds of hidden years behind it, "tell us your stories now."

The room hushed and chairs squeaked across the floor as the vampires leaned towards Mingi. A thousand years was not even a twentieth of a vampire's lifetime, but it was still long. Eager ears awaited to hear the experience that Mingi had gone through during his time in jail.

Mingi cleared his throat and surveyed them all once again. Jail had been terrible and boring. It was the price he had paid for the crimes he had committed as a younger and reckless vampire, but he couldn't say that he regretted doing any of it. Mingi had taken himself and all two hundred of his servants to town after town, mowing through houses and draining the residents of their blood. The screaming of the townspeople had only made their own blood curl, and blood with adrenaline tasted richer. Despite being a dead being, Mingi had never felt so alive in that moment. It had been a display of power, a display of the awesome and terrible Song family that had roamed for eons.

But no one else had found it funny, especially the supernatural council that had reigned at the time. Mingi's name protected him from the worst of punishments, but not even he could squirrel himself out of an extended period behind bars. His servants had been sent back to his home and had been locked in with no idea of when Mingi would return, and Mingi had rotted in a cell for a thousand years. It wasn't all bad, though - there were vampires like him, burning with the desire to escape but burdened all the same with exhaustion and the cage that surrounded them. Mingi had lots of time to reflect on his actions, and he had come to the conclusion that if he was to do such an event again, he'd have to be much more discreet about it.

But now he was home. Mingi described the bad conditions of the jail to his enraptured crowd, preached about the terrible clothing he had to have on his back and vocalized the terrible treatment that the jail had given him. With every word, the shock on the vampires' faces melted into anger and sadness.

"Lord Song," many of them sobbed, "we are so sorry you had to go through that."

"What's done is done," Mingi murmured. "Stop crying. It's over now. Rejoice that I'm back."

And amongst the sudden cheers that yes, Lord Song had returned, Mingi smiled. A sliver of fear had baked inside of him when he had been released. He had been concerned over the thought that his brigade of vampires had deserted him. After all, a thousand years inside of a house with nothing to do was not an enjoyable time. But his stupidly obsequious servants had stayed locked in the house all the same.

The arrows at the front of the mansion only hurt those coming towards the mansion. They could have left any time they wanted to. But Mingi relished in the idea that they knew fully well of the arrows that were awaiting if they ever decided to come crawling back. His servants were locked in, and Mingi now knew with confidence that the leash he had on them was tighter than a double-knotted knot.

He raised his empty glass and savored the multiple vampires that tripped over chairs and table legs to reach his glass and refill it. He had them wrapped around his finger.

The next week allowed Mingi to be acclimated back into his home. The couches he rested on gave him peace and restfulness that he had forgotten he could feel during his time on the rock-hard floors of the prisons. The constant vampires that were begging to wait on him was also a complete change from before. But while his servants entertained him and kept him company, Mingi longed to talk to someone on his own caliber. So the next day, Jongho was on his back doorstep.

Only friends knew that the back door was the correct door to enter if they liked to keep their brains inside their head, and even then Lord Choi was smart. "Mingi," Lord Choi exclaimed when he was brought to the dining hall by Mingi's servants and saw him at the table. "It's wonderful to see you once again."

Like all vampires, Lord Choi hadn't aged a day since Mingi had last seen him. The only noticeable difference in his features was his now slicked back dark hair that gave him a more mature look, a look he never would have attempted thousands of years ago. He still had muscle on his arms, if not more, and his black and large eyes that seemed to catch every visual in Mingi's mansion had grown softer, more tempered. Something had tethered him down, and Mingi was curious to find out what it was.

The two of them circled one another in a hug, patting each others' backs as they laughed at their reunion. "How long has it been?" Jongho laughed when they broke apart. "A thousand years?"

"A thousand years," Mingi repeated. "What have you gotten yourself into?" He asked as Mingi's servants led the two of them to their seats at Mingi's long dinner table and sat them down. He expected Jongho to launch into a terrible and exciting story about a murder spree - he was famous for those when Mingi had last known seen him.

But Mingi was wrong. Jongho was more than happy to talk about his disciplined and mild travels he had done around the world. While a glass of red liquid was poured out for him and Mingi, he talked about his travels around Europe, Asia, and most recently, North America.

"I was most impressed by the humans' ability to be clean," he said as he took a long drink of his blood. "A bit of a shame because blood was so much easier to obtain when humans threw the carcasses of each other outside of doorsteps when plague raged. And I quite enjoyed the phase of blood-letting. But now, at least there's no more human feces for me to step upon when I stroll through the neighborhoods in London. I call that a win."

"You'll have to tell me about that," Mingi said and raised his eyebrows. Vampires didn't need to use the bathroom or sleep, but Jongho was glad to explain the modern wonder of indoor plumbing.

"And I think Ireland was my favorite place to visit," Jongho continued. "I was there about two-hundred years ago. Met some interesting humans, I had a book written after me as well. You may know of the book."

"Quite highly of you to think that I was allowed to read in prison," Mingi said, not unkindly, and Jongho laughed.

"Just a little book about vampires. Written by Bram Stoker."

"Never heard of it," Mingi said, and Jongho once again shook his head.

"We need to go on a trip together at some point," Jongho smiled. "To get you accustomed to the new world. You would be surprised how much human innovation has happened in the millennia you missed."

Jongho went on to continuing his life story that Mingi had missed, and Mingi was amazed to listen. Prison had been hard. It had been boring and harrowing, but he had survived, in the end. But he couldn't help but feel a pinprick of jealousy as Jongho described his tales and freedom he had, even if his adventures weren't as violent as he would have guessed. Jongho, like Mingi, had taken his vampire servants many times through towns for blood feasts. But Jongho had perfected the art of subtlety and remaining underneath the radars of watchful vampire councils that made sure none of them stepped out of line. He had found a way to let his innate vampire desires tear through himself and never subject himself to the horrors and pain of prison.

Mingi listened, but his ears turned greener as Jongho continued on about his life.

It wasn't until Mingi's servants arrived with that too-familiar courting binder of vampires did Jongho stop talking. Mingi opened his mouth to shoo them off, but the book was placed in front of Jongho and the vampire that had placed it cleared her throat.

"We hope you don't mind, Lord Choi, but we've come up with a few potential suitors, both male and female, that you may be interested in," she said, giving a bright smile to Jongho. Jongho's mouth twitched and he burst into laughter.

"Lord Choi?" The vampire asked, gasping. "Is something wrong?" Mingi looked at his servant and Jongho, equally as confused as she was.

"No, nothing," he said, "it's just that I'm married already."

"You're what?" Mingi choked and the vampire flushed with what little blood she had left in her body.

"Married, like I said, you missed a lot," Jongho said and reached in his coat pocket for a piece of paper. He threw it on the table, and it was a photo of a bright and smiling woman with blonde hair. "This is Analise, my beloved of almost seven-hundred years."

"Seven-hundred years?" Mingi gaped. The female vampire that had given Jongho the binder was already dragging it away from him, her face hidden by her hair.

"Yes, and she's wonderful," Jongho said casually, shrugging. "It's simply the way of life. I'm sure you'll find someone."

Mingi made a mental note to go back to his own binder later. "I never thought you'd get married," he said, and Jongho smiled.

"And neither did I. But sometimes, you just meet someone," he sighed, then looked at Mingi. "I haven't felt the need to go out and ravage towns or humans now that I have her. She keeps me occupied and happy."

Mingi's question as to why Jongho seemed more calm was finally answered, but it was accompanied by bubbling discomfort. "She must be truly amazing," he said through his teeth.

"She is," Jongho sighed, and then went into stories about her. The stories warped back into tales about his travels around the world, and soon night had fallen across the sky. Jongho couldn't have left the mansion earlier because of the sun and he hadn't brought a cloak, but now the moon could aid him in walking back into town.

"Be sure to come with me to Australia," Jongho said and hugged Mingi before he left. "It'll be lots of fun." And then he smiled, and Mingi's heart broke at how soft he had become.

"Of course," he said, giving a painful smile. Jongho grinned and left the mansion through the back door.

Mingi was back with his thoughts. He watched Jongho walking away through a window and retreated to his study. He sat down at his desk to write something on a piece of paper with a quill. When he realized all of his ink had dried up over the course of a thousand years, he begrudgingly took his glass of blood from earlier and wrote one phrase onto the paper using it: never to be sanguine.

It was a phrase that he and the rest of the vampires at the prison had learned and repeated to each other. Because while sanguine meant blood-red, it also meant that a person was blindingly optimistic and cheerful. And Mingi ached to never, ever, become like that. To be optimistic, to be sweet and kind and cheery, was to ignore the inhumanity of being a vampire. It was to align with humans more than vampires, their own kind. He had lost Jongho to the sanguine nature.

"Not like Jongho," he said, his hand shaking as he finished the end of the word sanguine. "Never like him." Because if prison had taught him anything, it was to be patient, it was to be quiet.

It was to be unassuming. Mingi rushed to his vampires. He must have seemed shocked, because the vampires nearly fell to the floor into a bow. "I need that matchmaker binder," he said. "My binder. The one you tried to give me a few days ago."

"But Lord Song," the vampire said, quivering, "you didn't even want-"

"I want it now," Mingi growled and the vampire shook. He left and came back a minute later with the book in his hands. Mingi yanked it from his arms and stormed back into his study.

Analise had made Jongho soft. The vampire council must have seen this, they must have known this. He flipped through the book until he found a page of attractive people.

A partner was exactly how Mingi could keep going with evil misdeeds and remain under the radar of the council that could reprimand him. The council must have had the impression that a partner would tame him, just like Analise had done with Jongho. And even if his partner ended up hating him for who he was and the actions he did, he could pay them a handsome sum to keep quiet. It was the perfect disguise.

"Marriage," Mingi murmured, and looked at his bare ring finger. A ring would allow his greatest diabolical plans that he had thought of in prison to come to life. He stood up and walked out of his study with the proposal of proposing in his mind. "The secret to staying hidden is to hide in plain sight."

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waitingforwinterwinds · 2 years ago

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Game of Thrones - 36 DAENERYS IV (pages 373-382)

Dany and the khalasar arrive at Vaes Dothrak, and Dany (in an act of self-defense) is forced to break their ancient custom of spilling no blood.

It had taken much pleading, and all the pillow tricks Doreah had taught her, before Dany had been able to make Drogo relent and allow Viserys to rejoin them at the head of the column.

Excuse me a moment, I just need to ... kill every man in Dany's life pretty much.

"Viserys says he could sweep the Seven Kingdoms with ten thousand Dothraki screamers." Ser Jorah snorted. "Vserys could not sweep a stable with ten thousand brooms."

Don't think being funny will save you, Jorah. You're still a creep who participated in slavery. (and creeps on a child bride.)

Vaes Dothrak was at once the largest city and the smallest city that she had ever known. She thought it must be ten times as large as Pentos, a vastness without walls or limits, its broad windswept streets paved in grass and mud and carpeted with wildflowers. In the Free Cities of the west, towers and manses and hovels and bridges and shops and halls all crowded in on one another, but Vaes Dothrak sprawled languorously, baking in the warm sun, ancient, arrogant, and empty. Even the buildings were so queer to her eyes. She saw carved stone pavilions, manses of woven grass as large as castles, rickety wooden towers, stepped pyramids faced with marble, log halls open to the sky. In place of walls, some palaces were surrounded by thorny hedges.

That would have been so epic to see on screen. But it also... the sheer scale of the Dothraki history of conquest... are we sure they're not secretly the British? (I'm sorry that was possibly inappropriate.)

As each rider swung down from his saddle, he unbelted his arakh and handed it to a waiting slave, and any other weapons he carried as well. Even Khal Drogo was not exempt. Ser Jorah had explained that it was forbidden to carry a blade in Vaes Dothrak, or to shed a free man's blood. Even warring khalasars put aside their feuds and shared meat and mead together when they were in the sight of the Mother of Mountains. In this place, the crones of the dosh khaleen had decreed, all Dothraki were one blood, one khalasar, one herd.

"You are Wonkru, or you are the enemy of Wonkru." No, but that's an interesting distinction I don't recall being in the show: "to shed a free man's blood" By that rule, they could chop a slave up into pieces and it wouldn't count as breaking the rule, because slaves aren't free men.

"I am the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, not some grass-stained savage with bells in his hair," Viserys spat back at her. He grabbed her arm. "You forget yourself, slut. Do you think that big belly will protect you if you wake the dragon?"

He sounds like such a small and pathetic man who's scrabbling for any scrap of power he can get his hands on to make himself fell important, and he's chosen to pursue said scraps by lashing out. He's an abusive piece of shit but goodness sake does he sound like a butthurt reddit dudebro who's trying to convince everyone that his meat is huge and his three weeding smoking girlfriends love it.

His fingers dug into her arm painfully and for an instant Dany felt like a child again, quailing in the face of his rage. She reached out with her other hand and grabbed the first thing she touched, the belt she'd hoped to give him, a heavy chain of ornate bronze medallions. She swung it with all her strength. It caught him full in the face. Viserys let go of her. Blood ran down his cheek where the edge of one of the medallions had sliced it open. "You are the one who forgets himself," Dany said to him. "Didn't you learn anything that day in the grass? Leave me now, before I summon my khas to frag you out. And pray that Khal Drogo does not hear of this, or he will cut open your belly and feed you your own entrails."

first of all: "for an instant Dany felt like a child again" what 'again,' you're still a child despite what the gross men in your life would have you believe. second: oh no, she spilled the blood of a free man in the sacred Dothraki city of no spilling free men's blood, I hope that's not an omen for anything, haha, that would suck third: hit him again!

(I would like to add the disclaimer that while I do not condone real world violence, or violence between real people whether physical, emotional, mental or virtual, I can and do endorse fictional characters beating the shit out of their abusers.)

This chapter marks the halfway point in A Game of Thrones~ I may celebrate by taking a cheat day tomorrow.

#a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #game of thrones #got #daenerys targeryan #a chapter a day reading

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nagito-kissmaeda · 4 years ago

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Alone at the Edge of a Universe - Komaeda x Reader

Summary: You were in an accident before everything went to hell. You don't remeber how it all started. Now you live in a small apartment with a strange man who seems to be trying his best to look after you, but doesnt know how to take care of himself.

AKA: oh my god they were roommates.....Despair Edition TM

Word count: 7169 Contains: fem reader, no pronouns usage, explict sexual content, unsafe sex, very mild blood/injury, panic attacks, despair era Read on AO3 ミ☆ Please send me a DM or an ask if you’d like me to write something for you!

There’s an explosion outside your window, and something huge tumbles to the ground. Everything in the apartment is shaking, Knick-knacks wobble and fall off the mantle, smashing on the floor, the bed frame shakes and lurches underneath you. Your fingers are digging tight into the quilt, trying to find purchase somewhere in the quake.

It is not your first collapsing building, and you fear it will not be your last. The world outside the apartment is dangerous and frightening, layers upon layers of horror folded together into the culmination of true despair. You don’t remember how it happened. It was some time ago (weeks? Months? Years?) that you woke up in a hospital, weak and emancipated, barely able to walk. You had been in some sort of accident, whatever happened to the world, started while you were still comatose and all the doctors were long gone when you finally came to. The fact that your life support was even still running was a stroke of luck.

There’s another thundering outside, but this one doesn’t make the house shake. Another building? You can't be sure, it was too far away to be of any danger to you so there is no reason to think about it. Instead you pull yourself up from the bed, bringing one foot down on the floor and being absolutely sure that there won't be any aftershocks before standing up properly. There are little broken pieces of glass and china all over the wooden floorboards, you cross the room on your tip-toes, careful to avoid any of the more dangerous looking shards. It is as you feared, your favorite knick-knack had also broken. You drop into a crouch, trying your best to gather the shattered pieces of what had once been a small glass jar full of little keepsakes.

Your housemate (if you could call him that) frequently brings back little presents from his adventures out into the fractured city. But this had been your favorite, a blue jar with a cork stopper, full of buttons, beads, marbles. Any pretty trinkets he could find for you. The shattering of this particular gift hurts something terrible, because you know it took him a very long time to collect it all. You manage to find a sturdier jar that survived the quake (it was once holding three stems of lavender, long since dead) and scoop as many of the shards and trinkets that you can inside. It isn't as pretty, but it will do for now.

He’s been gone for a week now, and you are hoping he will be back today.

When he first brought you to the apartment, you couldn't even stand. Confused and scared about what had happened to the world during your coma, and having trouble remembering what your life was like before either. The apartment was a mess when he first found it, but there was a bed and clean sheets in a closet, so it was fine. He sat with you for hours, barely moving, just watching as you slipped in and out of consciousness, as the world finally came into focus. At first you were afraid of him, of his dishevelled appearance, trembling limbs and wide watery eyes. He never made any move to touch you, he sat there and would answer questions if you asked them, but otherwise just watched.

Once you were able to move on your own, he started heading outside for longer stretches of time. He used to just leave for a few hours each week to bring you back enough food until his next trip, but now he is often gone for days at a time. You wonder how long it will be before you can go outside with him. He is strange, but given the state of the world outside, you can’t imagine anyone else is faring much better.

You manage to salvage a decent amount of the broken trinkets and either pour them into a vacant jar or the trash and are in the middle of sweeping away any remaining shards when you hear a shaky knock on the door. He has a key, but he always knocks anyway. You let the broom drop to the ground and dash over to the door to let him in.

“Hey…” you say, pulling the door open. His red striped sweater has more holes in it than it did last you saw him, his hair curled and messy, more grey than white. His disheveled appearance means little, you are thrilled to see him, “Welcome home.”

His eyes are desperate as he looks you over, crossing the threshold of the apartment and closing the door behind him, “The quake...are you okay?”

“I stayed in bed the whole time, I’m fine.” You attempt to take his rucksack from him, to help him carry it to the kitchen. He pulls it away from you and carries it on his own, “A bunch of the gifts you brought me fell off the mantle, though. I should have been keeping them somewhere safer, I’m sorry.”

He wheezes, giggling under his breath as he starts pulling food out from the rucksack and onto the bench, “Don’t waste such sweet apologies on me. I can find more gifts if you want them.”

With you standing in the sitting room, and him unloading groceries in the kitchen. In a different time, this may have been domestic. Your heart warms at the thought, “No, it’s okay. I don’t want to cause you any more trouble.”

“Trouble?” He doubles over with laughter, the sound is scratchy in his throat, “You could never cause me any trouble.”

He doesn’t look like he belongs in the nice clean apartment. He stands in the middle of the room, all shaking limbs and wheezy breaths, clutching his own arms like it’s the only thing still keeping him together, but you can tell he is trying, he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable around him.

“Are you okay?” You ask, “you were outside when it happened”

He giggles breathlessly, gnawing on the cuff of his sleeve, “you are worried about me?” His knees shake like they're about to give out and he buzzes with manic energy, “Aha! the extent of your hope, it’s incomparable!”

You suddenly notice a line of blood running down from his forehead, curling down past his eyebrow and over his cheekbone. You rush over to him and take his face in your hands. His skin is pallid and sickly, his lips chapped and bleeding. You push his mess of dirty hair away from his forehead and gasp, “you’re really hurt, why didn't you tell me?”

He doesn’t say anything, he’s just staring at you with wet unblinking eyes as a wide smile tugs at his lips. Shuddering under the soft grip of your hands. The gash on his forehead is shallow, but blood is gushing out of it quite quickly and you aren’t really sure what to do. As you look closer at the wound, his eyes flutter shut and you feel him leaning into your palm. Your heart thunders in your chest, he’s cute under all the dirt and grime.

He cares for you a great deal, you aren't sure why. He won't even tell you his name.

“I’ll wash it out for you. Okay?” You say, taking one of his hands in yours and tugging him towards the bathroom. The one gentle tug on his hand is enough that he almost topples over, but he rights himself quickly. His hand is quivering in yours.

“Oh! You don't need to do that!” he protests, but continues obediently following after you, “I’ve dealt with much worse, aha! Don't bother dirtying your hands to fix something that will only break again.”

You grab him by the shoulders and lower him down onto the toilet seat. His big eyes peer up at you from behind the mass of hair now tumbling down over his face, he watches you with a pointed devotion that might make you uncomfortable if you weren't already used to it. He brings his sleeve up to his mouth to chew on it again, you take his hand in yours and lower it before he gets the chance, “I’ll be gentle. Don’t worry.”

His nails dig into the meat of his thighs and he is shivering again. You can feel his legs bouncing as you lean forward to take a better look at the gash on his forehead, he whines when he feels your fingers brush his hair away from his face. You sigh at him, “You know this will get infected if you don't clean it, don't you?”

He whimpers, practically rattling as his tremors get worse, “How kind of you to notice! But I have more important matters to attend to of course.” another bout of laughter boils through him, shaking his bony shoulders,“like you, for instance!”

You drop to a crouch so you can meet his eyes, resting one hand on his shoulder and holding his hair back with the other, “You can't look after me if you’re dead.”

“Oh I won't die.” He breathes, the depths of his eyes shining with a shocking lucidity, “Not yet.”

He really believes that. You can see it on his face, “Either way. I’m going to clean it. Sit tight.”

Sitting tight is not possible. To his credit, he doesn't move on purpose, but he is still shaking intensely as he waits for you. His protruding knees knocking as his legs bounce up and down. You purse your lips and wet a cloth in the sink, the water is a little brown, but all of the water is a little brown so there isn't much you can do about it.

“Okay.” You say, turning back to him and lifting the cloth to his forehead, “Let me know if it stings too much, alright?”

He nods, smiling up at you pleasantly as you bring the cloth down on the gash. There is a lot of blood, the coppery smell is overwhelming but you try your best to seem like it isn't affecting you. If there is any pain, it doesn't seem to be bothering him, his eyes are closed again and he is leaning gently into your touch. Your heart warms for him, and the hand you are using to hold his hair out of his face starts gently scratching his scalp. You hear him gasp, but he makes no move to stop you. His hair is soft, you can feel the grit of dirt and smoke caught up in it, but under that...he is so soft. The blood running down his face is well clean by now, but you don't stop. The washcloth falls from your hand with a splat and his eyes snap open. One of your hands is buried in his hair, combing the mess through your gentle fingers, the other traces the sharp line of his jaw, all the way up to and then down his cheekbone.

“What are you doing?” He asks, you are dimly aware that his shaking has stopped. At least for now.

Your pointer finger runs up the bridge of his nose and over his right eyebrow, now you are the one shaking, “I...don’t know.”

“You’re touching me.” He breathes

Your voice is barely a whisper when you reply, “I am.” you let your hand drop, “I’m sorry. I don't know why i did that.”

He reaches out and takes your hand in his, pressing it firmly to his cheek. His eyes are wild, “You can do whatever you want to me! I don't mind!”

His suggestion raises an unwarranted heat to your cheeks. You gently tug your hand from his grasp, “There’s some vodka in the cupboard. Give me a moment to disinfect you.”

You pick the cloth up off the ground and leave it on the side of the sink as you walk over to the kitchen. All of the food he brought back with him is still strewn about on the countertop, abandoned when you realised how badly hurt he was. You worry about him. Constantly. He was the one who found you half crawling, half stumbling through the desolate remains of the city mere hours after you woke up in the crumbling shell of the hospital. Since then he has been so careful of you, making sure you are well fed, bringing you gifts or clothes, anything he can find out there. He clearly doesn't extend the same olive branch to himself. You stand up on your toes to grab the alcohol from the top shelf, it was already here when he first found the apartment. Half empty. You hope whoever lived here before you had enjoyed it.

“This is going to hurt.” You warn as you step back into the bathroom. He nods loosely and you wring the cloth out as best you can before dousing it in the vodka, “Are you ready?”

“Pain or pleasure,” he starts, looking up at you with a loopy smile, “anything I feel by your hand is exhilarating.”

Oh. You liked that . It made something in the pit of your stomach twist.

You clear your throat and crouch down in front of him, pushing his hair out of the way. His eyes are half lidded, and you can tell he is uncomfortably lucid. He intimidates you a little like this, there is a sharp intellect behind his big green eyes that feels like he is dissecting you with his stare alone. Even though he has stilled quite a bit, his hands are still jittering at his sides. You gently press the alcohol soaked rag to the gash in his forehead, he hisses through his smiling teeth, but the sound teeters dangerously close to being a moan. You swallow, continuing your ministrations.

“Did you get hurt anywhere else?” You ask, purposely focussing on cleaning his wound so you don't have to meet his eyes.

“No.” He says. It doesn't sound like he’s lying.

“Okay.” You reply, “I trust you, but you can't hide these things from me. I have a duty to keep you safe, too.”

A shudder runs through him at your words and his eyes flutter shut. Like he is savoring it, “You are too generous, truly.” his voice is so breathy, and your positioning makes it sound like he is whispering in your ear. You bite your lip.

“It is not generosity.” You laugh a little, your fingers tangling in his hair again, “It’s selfishness. You are all I have and I don't want to lose you.”

He is shaking again, his long fingers grasping at nothing. Like he desperately wants to hold you but knows he can't . His arms wrap around himself instead, fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket as he rocks back and forth, “Aha! A regular Pylades you are, looking after trash like me!”

You have long since abandoned any pretense. Not even pretending to be tending to his wound anymore, your fingers brush through his hair unhindered, “Pylades?” you ask, twisting a lock of pale hair around your index finger. Surprised with how much classic literature he’s managed to remember through all this tragedy, this is not the first time he has quoted one such piece to you.

“From Euripides!” he’s grinning now, lips curled almost painfully wide, “You need me to jog your memory, hm?” He asks, leaning forward. He is very close to you now, and your hand freezes in his hair, “Orestes says ‘it’s rotten work’ and Pylades replies-”

Oh. You do know this one.

“Not to me.” You breathe, heart thumping in your chest and mouth going dry. Your hand slides down from his hair to cup his cheek, you can feel his pulsepoint racing like a hummingbird under your thumb. He is so close now, you can see flecks of gold in his eyes. You can count his eyelashes. You are shaking, “Not if it’s you.”

For a moment, you think you are going to kiss him. For a moment, you want to kiss him. Instead you let your hand drop from his cheek and stand back up, “It’s um...it’s as clean as im going to get it. Might need stitches, but i dont have the means or the skill to do that for you.”

He brings his arms up in a shrug, “No matter. So long as you’re satisfied.”

“This isn't about my satisfaction.” You say, crossing your arms, “You need to take better care of yourself out there. Look, maybe next time i should come with you and-”

He shoots upright, suddenly towering above you, all quivering limbs and sweaty palms, “Nonononono. You have to-” he sucks in a wheezy breath and shakes his head, “-you have to stay in here. For you to be tainted by the world outside, the despair it would-” a breathy laugh escapes his lips, growing and growing in volume, his hands tanging his hair pulling strands out at the roots, “-It would be glorious .” He growls, shaking and panting as he starts hitting himself in the head with his fist and a crescendo of, “nononononononono” is erupting from the cavern of his mouth.

It is frightening, but you are used to it. He gets in these fits sometimes, but has never attempted to hurt you, it’s more like he’s fighting himself. You wrap both your hands around his wrist, holding his arm still so he can’t use it to hit himself anymore before slowly bringing it back down to his side. He is still shaking with a mania that seeps out through every pore, but at least he isn't hurting himself. His mouth runs a mile a minute, arguing with both himself and people you have never met. He talks to them a lot, these other people, you don't want to ask him about them.

“Hey.” you whisper, “I’m here. It’s okay.”

His big eyes turn to you, but he doesn't calm. He is still muttering and shaking, but this is okay. You start slowly rubbing your hands up and down the length of his forearms, “You’re doing fine, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

He whines and brings one of his sleeves up to his mouth to gnaw on it. You don't stop him, when he gets like this it’s one of his less destructive habits. It's preferable to scratching. You keep rubbing his free arm, your other hand curled around his hip. His eyes are slowly growing less wild, drool is dripping down his chin, “Alright. We’re going to move to the couch. Nice and slow.”

You loop his arm over your shoulders and tuck your other hand into his back pocket, slowly walking him over to the couch. This is the main reason you haven't left the apartment, the door unlocks from the inside so if you really wanted to, you could leave at any time. You’re scared though, both of what is waiting out in the city, and of what will happen to him if he comes back one day to find you gone. He is finally starting to calm when you lower him down onto the couch, still chewing absently on his sleeve, but his breathing has slowed a little. A soft smile tugs at your lips, and you tuck some of his hair behind his ear.

“Why do you worry about me so much?” You ask, more to yourself than to him. Stroking his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb, “I am no one to you.”

He is tired now after his episode, his arm is slow and shaky as he reaches out to you, resting his hand in the dip of your waist. The warmth of his skin seeps in through your shirt, your heart climbs up into your throat when he squeezes , “You are hope. You are everything to me.” his eyes are half lidded, and his smile is soft, “The corruption, the despair it...haahaa...it tainted us all, but you-” he takes a deep, shuddering breath, “-you slept right through it. You’re still hopeful...still perfect…”

“And if I hadn't. What would I be to you then?”

“Dead, most likely.” He sighs and it rattles through his chest, “Is there even a point to talking about what might have been? In my experience it has never helped any.”

He’s right. You hate the idea of a reality where you never meet him. This realisation makes your stomach turn. Familiarity breeds comfort, but when what is familiar is a man who is (under dirt and grime and sweat) incredibly beautiful, you find that it breeds something else as well. You give the hand on your waist a pat, and he lets you go.

“The sun is setting.” You say, trying to distract yourself from how much you want his hand against you again, “I’m going to light some candles before it gets dark.”

“Oh! Before you do.” He manages to pull himself up from the couch and stumbles over to his rucksack, bending over and rummaging through it some, “I hm...i found something for you.”

You stand in the middle of the room, the last dregs of daylight are casting an orange light over his shaking form. He comes back over to you, holding out his offering, for a moment you're not even sure what it is.

“Oh my god…” You whisper, turning it over in your hands. It’s a polaroid camera, a little banged up but it looks like it will still work, “thank you.” you smile up at him, heart melting to nothing in your chest, “thank you so much.”

He laughs a little, shaking as he passes another two objects over to you, “I only found two film cartridges, but i can look for more!”

“No! This is perfect, I'm amazed you even managed to find two.”

“My luck may not be worth much.” He says with a sad smile, “but if i’m able to bring you some happiness with it, then i'm glad!”

“Here, just...give me a second.” Your hands are shaking as you fumble with the first cartridge, popping open the back of the camera and clicking it in. Before he has a chance to protest (because you know he will) you lift the camera up to your eye and snap a photo. For a moment he is dazzled by the flash, but then immediately starts wheezing.

“Wha....What?” His knees are wobbling again, his eyes are wide and unblinking.

The photo slides out of the camera and you grab it between your index finger and thumb, giving it a light shake, “I took a photo of you.”

“Why would you do that?” He’s laughing, but it sounds more confused than it does manic, “You only have two cartridges of film and you would waste a photo on garbage like me?”

“I don't think it was a waste.” The photo has just about finished developing, the light from the flash doesnt do his already pale skin any favors, but you smile all the same, “Sometimes you’re gone for a long time, and if i can't come with you then...i dunno, it’ll be nice to have.”

“You...miss me?”

You see no reason to lie, “I miss you.”

He is just staring at you now, eyes slowly examining every inch of your face. Your heart is racing. He takes a slow, shaky step towards you, practically vibrating with nervous energy.

“I shouldn't.” He says, even as his trembling hand rests on your hip, the pads of his fingers slipping up under your shirt to stroke your skin, “I’m disgusting for even thinking about all that I want to do with you.” His grip on your hip grows tighter, and you feel a warmth in your stomach, “If you knew...eheh...if you could see what i was thinking right now.” his breathing has quickened, and the hand on your hip is trembling. So are your legs, “you’d kick me out of this apartment like the...the...haahhaa...the perverted trash that i am.”

Any thoughts within you about resisting or denying him have long dissipated. You do not even hesitate as you loop an arm behind his head, digging your fingers into the back of his hair, “I wouldn't.”

He doesn't say anything, he’s just looking at you and trembling. A whiny moan escaping his lips.

“The things you want to do to me…” You start, fingers slipping under his striped sweater, just enough to feel his skin, “Show me.”

His hand joins its brother on your hips, and he tugs you towards him. Your lips colliding in a desperate kiss, all tangled tongues and nipping teeth. You moan into his open mouth, your fingers tangling even tighter in the mess of hair on the back of his head, he groans when you tug a little harder, slipping one of his hands up the front of your shirt and palming you over your bra. You cling to each other like two lost sailors adrift in the sea, attempting to find purchase in a world long gone. Your kisses open mouthed, wet and sloppy, desperate and needy. He is moaning and shaking, his long fingers tightly squeezing your breast as his other arm wraps around your waist and somehow tugs you even closer. He is so thin, pressed up against him like this you can feel his bones shifting under his skin. You bite his neck so hard you taste copper on your tongue and a moan explodes from his lips.

“Yes... yes! ” He stammers, drooling and shaking. His mouth pulled in such a wide smile that his lips tear and bleed, “hurt me...hng-hahAHA... destroy me !”

Your hands become frantic, grabbing his jacket and tugging it down his arms. His sweatshirt soon follows, ripped up over his head with a tenacity you didn't even know you had. You want to feel his skin, to suck, to bite, to bury your nails in it. Desperation is building inside you, almost ready to overflow. His skin is salty with sweat when you run your tongue over the length of his collarbone, fingers on your left hand running over each jutting rib as you slip your hand down to grasp his hip. The bone is sharp under the soft skin of your palm. Despite all his sweating and panting, his flesh is still cold under your hand, you want to warm him up. You tug your own shirt up over your head, chucking it behind you and unclasping your bra.

A wheezing laugh escapes him, he pushes his hair away from his face but it immediately falls back down again, “You...you’re…” his breath hitches, his pointer finger traces the underside of breast, shaky and cold, “you’re so soft...so warm .” he moans, licking his lips, “my goddess...would you permit me to pleasure you with my mouth?” he purrs. His eyes are swirling with arousal, his hand creeping up to massage your breast in his palm. It feels so good, he feels so good. He looks at you with this endless devotion, like you are something precious to be protected and loved .

“My guardian angel.” you whisper, tucking a wisp of hair behind his ear, “Whatever you want to do to me. Do it.”

His ghostly green eyes are blown wide, and he is wheezing again, “You just...what did you just call me?”

“I would have died out there on my own. You know that right?” You say, leaning in close enough that the tips of your breasts brush against his bare chest and cupping his cheek in your palm, “You saved my life. You are my guardian angel.”

“You are too kind to me, truly.” He whispers, his cold hands moving to your shoulders as he guides you backwards, “I am little more than garbage after all.” the back of your knees hit the couch and you collapse onto it, “Just a bug under the heel of an ultimate’s shoe...but you...hm…” he drops to his knees in front of you, his grin is all sharp teeth and drool. Some people might have been afraid of him, you thought he was the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever seen, “you deserve to be worshipped .” he breathes against your skin, leaning in and wrapping his lips around one of your nipples. His mouth is warm and wet, you throw your head back in a wail, digging your fingers into the mess of hair on his head.

His hand slides up the side of your ribcage, thumb rubbing small practiced circles around your other nipple. A needy moan escapes your lips, and your legs drop open almost instinctively. He scrambles forward to nestle himself between them, the sharp angles of his torso dig into the soft flesh of your thighs and his free arm wraps around your waist to tug to two of you even closer together. A strangled cry rips through you as the bare skin of his chest presses firmly against your sex, hips bucking against him almost involentarily, overcome with a desire to just feel him . He laughs against your breast, sinking his teeth into your flesh as his tongue continues lathing across your pert nipple.

“Mm...you’re so soft…” He whispers, resting his cheek on the plump skin of your breast, “your skin is so smooth…” His other hand is still toying with your nipple, rolling it in between the calloused pads of his thumb and forefinger, “haaAAH...I’m so lucky. You permitting scum like me to pleasure you? Your kindness is...hm, how could I put it?” his tongue darts out to give your nipple a lick, you shiver, “It is inexorable ”

“Wrong again.”, You laugh breathily, carting your fingers through his unruly hair, “This is no kindness. This is desire, unflinching. I want you so badly, selfishly .”

A raspy giggle escapes him, shaking his shoulders as he pulls his arms from you to wrap them around himself instead, “Someone like you getting so riled up over someone like me...eheh…” His hands are shaking when he brings them back down to your waist, gripping the elastic waistband of your sweatpants, “The ideas I have - the things I want to do with my fingers,” he starts pulling your pants down. You lift yourself up a little to help him pull them over your hips, warmth blooming in your cheeks, he moans at the mere sight of your panties, “f-fuck…” he whines, all drool and sweat, “i want to finger you until i die . Oh... oh god… ” he’s kneeling lower down now, you can feel him shaking between your thighs, “you smell so good...i want to eat you until there's nothing left. Like you’re my last meal…” his hands come up and grip your thighs tight, he leans in closer to your center and you can barely hold in a moan when you feel his nose bump against the wet spot on your panties. You don't hold in the moan when you feel his tongue. You aren't sure you could if you tried, it tears out of you, the one swipe of his tongue over your soaked panties is like a bolt of lightning to your cunt.

He continues like this for a while, moaning and shaking as he drags his tongue up and down your panties. Occassionally suckling your clit through the fabric. His bony fingers dig so tight in the soft flesh of your thighs that you swear you’ll have bruises tomorrow morning. After one particularly brutal suck, all you can do is sob, pulling his hair so tight that his lips are torn away from your centre.

“Something wrong?” He asks, playing innocent, but the look in his eye is cool and intelligent.

You heave a shaky breath, staring down at him, “Take them off. Please! ”

You swear you see his hips twitch at your demand. Eyes glazing over and tongue lolling out of his mouth as he hooks his fingers through the legs of your panties and tugs them down, leaving them to dangle off your left ankle. A whimper escapes you at the feeling of his breath against your wetness, his hands are hovering above you, shaking in the air like he isn't sure what to do with them. He wants to touch everything, he just can't decide where to start.

In the end, his left hand comes to rest at your hip, while his right middle and ring fingers push their way inside you. Your head lolls backward and your mouth drops open with a long moan at the feeling. His fingers are longer than yours are. A lot longer.

“I can feel you... twitching around me.” he makes a strangled noise, half a laugh, half a moan and pistons his fingers slowly in and out of you. The sound it makes is obscene , but it seems to only encourage him further. He leans in, and wraps his lips around your clit, sucking gently and occasionally flicking it with his tongue. Your hips buck reflexively, trying to get closer to his mouth.

“Ahh - ah! You taste so sweet...” he whispers against you, his breath cold on your burning flesh, “I - mmph...i feel like adam biting the apple...or persephone swallowing the pomegranate seeds...haah…” he removes his fingers, and his tongue slips inside you, swirling around before he returns his attention to your clit, “But which do you think it will be, hm? Will i be forced to leave you, or will i be bound to you for all eternity?” his eyes meet yours, boiling with passion and desire. He looks godlike between your thighs, grinning up at you with sharp teeth and the sheen of your own slick all over his chin. All you can do is shake and moan, quivering for want of him, “Care to try your luck answering the million dollar question, my goddess?”

“Never leave me…” you say, chest heaving. You reach down and cup his face in your hand, “I will never ask you to leave me.”

“Never?” he asks, his smile growing manic and his nails digging into your thighs. You hiss at the pain, “A dangerous promise.” His tongue enters you again and he moans sinfully against your skin, slowly thrusting the wet muscle in and out of you. His hands slip down under you and he lifts you up by you ass, pulling your sex even closer to his face. You whimper and moan and grind against him. Fingers tangled in the mess of his hair as he tongue fucks you into oblivion.

He’s whining and groaning, devouring you like a man starved, and when you feel the couch lurch, you realise he is also desperately grinding his cock into the front of it. You tug on his hair again, weaker than last time as the wobbly feeling of pleasure has overtaken you. He slowly draws back from your sex, licking his lips and staring up at you with his intimidating eyes, “Mm?”

A shaky breath rattles through your lungs and you lean forward to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips, “I want you inside of me. Would that be okay?”

“I was already inside you.” He says, smirking and sticking out his tongue as a reminder.

“You know what i mean.” Your eyes flit down to the tent in his jeans, making what you really want even more obvious than it already is.

“You spoil me.” He breathes, pressing a wet kiss to your jawline, “You couldn’t possibly know how desperately I want to sink myself inside you...but I- haaahh ...I am not worthy of such an intimate act.” His fingers reach out, and slowly begin circling your clit, you choke on a moan, “I am more than happy to pleasure you like this...no need to worry about my satisfaction.”

“But I want to see you come undone.” You hiss as his index finger circles you entrance, “I want you on top of me, inside of me. I-“ his finger pushes inside and your breath catches, “-I want you to fuck me. Please .”

A giggle bursts from his lips that quickly grows into a cackle. His shoulders shaking with its intensity, a line of drool dripping down his chin, he throws his arms wide and shoots you a manic grin. All teeth and gums, “If that is what you truly desire, then it would be pointless to deny you any further!” He clambors up from the floor, stumbling a little as he struggles to remove his jeans, “After all, I want you as well.” He purrs, his jeans and boxers dropping to the floor, “More than that…” he breathes, lowering you by your shoulders until you are lying back on the couch and nestling himself in between your open legs. Your heart is racing, he is hovering over you now. His lips barely a breath from yours, and the head of his cock brushing against your sex. He groans, “My goddess, I hunger for you.”

He hisses a breath in through his teeth as he starts pushing himself into you. Hips shaking as he resists the urge to shove himself in with one long stroke, his eyes roll back into his head and he moans. The feeling of him slowly entering you, combined with watching the strangled ecstasy on his face, it’s the most aroused you’ve ever been. You can feel yourself clenching around him, your own hips quivering as he finally bottoms out inside of you with a raspy groan, “So wet…” he hisses, “You feel so good around me…” he slips one of his hands down between the both of you, rubbing gentle circles around you clit. You keen loudly at the feeling and his hips stutter into yours, “Y-you like that, huh? I felt you tighten around me…”

You nod loosely, struggling to speak through your moans, “Please...move…”

He visibly shudders at your request, slowly inching his hips backward, and then forward again at full force. A moan that shifts to laugh halfway through escapes his lips, and he finally sets his rhythm. His hips snap against yours with a desperate fervor, he whines and mewls above you, his hair bouncing delicately with the movement. Eyes half lidded and drool slowly dripping down his chin. You look up at him in absolute awe, he looks and sounds like an angel . Covered in grime, twisted and tangled, but an angel all the same. His fingers return to your clit and you moan again, digging your nails into the skin of his back, tracing the protruding vertebrae with your fingertips.

A particularly deep thrust causes a choked sob to break forth from his lips, his head lolls forward and he nuzzles into the join between your shoulder and neck, “You’re perfect .” he breathes, hips still pumping, “I’m throbbing...can you feel it? Can you feel what you are doing to me?”

You can . You can feel the warmth of his cock pulsing inside of you. His arms are trembling and his breath is a rapid staccato, he’s trying to maintain his composure, “You feel so good, sweetheart.” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair. He breath hitches when you call him sweetheart .

“You are so kind to me…” He wheezes, his breath warm against the column of your throat. You shiver, a strangled moan escaping you as his dexterous fingers circle your clit even faster. Your thighs tighten around his narrow waist, hips grinding against the meat of his palm and deeper onto his cock. All you can do is shake and moan, the muscles in your stomach tight and only growing tighter. He looks at your face, visibly euphoric, “are you close?”

You nod and he drags his tongue up the shell of your ear, “Jeez...I can’t believe trash like me is going to make you cum.” His eyes are wide when they meet yours, lips pulled tight in a grin, “You’re going to cum for me!” His hips move against yours at a frantic pace, his hands groping any part of you he can reach, a laugh in his chest building to a crescendo as he hits deeper and deeper inside of you, “You’re going to cum around me and I’m going to feel it...I-haaaaHAAAAA-“ he can’t speak any more, he’s laughing and moaning and fucking into you with an unbridled desperation.

“You need to...cum...Ah~ I want you to cum too…” you swallow, words catching in your throat when his fingers start working your clit again, “Cum inside me, angel. Please .”

“In-Inside?” He stutters, breath heaving and teeth clenched as he grows closer and closer to climax, “You would permit me to soil your insides with my filthy seed?”

“I don’t just permit you. I’m begging you! ” Your hips are canting up to meet his, wanting to feel him as deep inside you as possible. Drawing yourself tantalisingly close to orgasm, “I want to see you, to feel you. Come undone for me, please.”

His breath hitches, and his eyes grow dark. His fingers begin circling your clit at a brutal pace, his mouth collides with yours in a desperate kiss, all tongue and clicking teeth. You moan loudly into his open mouth, legs twitching underneath his frantic ministrations. His fingers on your clit, his cock pumping in and out of you, his tongue tangled with yours. The heat in the pit of your stomach is boiling, your breath is coming in gasps. It feels so good.

“You’re mine.” He whispers against your lips, and you swear you hear a sob catching in his throat, “accept me, please. Cum for me, my love.”

With those words, he kisses you firmly, thrusting deep and slow inside of you, and the coil in your stomach finally snaps as you cum with a strangled moan. Dragging your nails down his spine and curling your toes, warmth settles through your entire body and it feels like a perfect finality. He whines against your lips, grinding and writhing as you walls clench around him, then his eyes flutter closed and his mouth drops open in the most beautiful moan you’ve ever heard, and he cums .

His face softens in that moment, and for just a second, he looks normal. Like someone you might pass on the street or sit next to in class. You see him , and your heart turns to butter. You love him. Slowly, the speed of his thrusts peter out and he heaves a breath, eyes half lidded, giving you satisfied (albeit sleepy) smile. You return it, brushing your fingers down his cheekbone.

“Thank you.” He whispers, eyes moist with what will soon be tears.

You curl your hand around the back of his head and tug his forehead down to your lips. His skin tastes like sweat, “No. Thank you .”

He leaves the next morning. Unlike all the other times before, he never comes back.

#komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #komaeda nagito #super danganronpa goodbye despair #danganronpa x reader #i just keep busting these out huh?

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ninnodesu · 4 years ago

Text

“Can I See You?” ch 4 || Modern!Thomas

HEAVY trigger warnings for gore in this one. Don't read if you're really not into the cannibalistic portion. Butchering and shit. And eye stuff and yeah. It's somewhat heavy on the gore.

“Tommyyyyy… I’m bored.”, he shoves you off, probably for the fourth time in just ten minutes. You’ve been leaning over his bulky back for the good part of those ten minutes, getting on his nerves.

It’s been around four weeks since you’d gotten stranded in the middle of nowhere in Texas, ending up in the Hewitt’s household. Slowly, slowly, you’d gotten more comfortable with them, and them with you. You’d contacted your work, telling them you wouldn’t show up for a while due to an accident, explaining everything, except where you were currently staying. You’d gotten chores that could be done sitting down, and best of all; you’d grown closer to Thomas.

You’d had a lot of trouble adjusting to their way of living, however. Many dinners you resorted to not eating, or only eating pieces you saw weren’t meat. But after about a week of doing this, you couldn’t stand the pain in your empty stomach anymore, and you caved. You had to eat, the small amounts of potato and the occasional vegetable not enough to fill you. But you did stay away from Thomas when guests or trespassers came to the house. You knew what it meant, and even if you knew what kind of meat you were eating. You never wanted to see how it was made.

Right now, however, you were bored. And since Thomas was the one who was pretty much around you, or closed by every waking moment of your day, he was also the poor person who had to deal with your boredom. During these weeks, he’d taught you a few words and phrases in sign language. Mostly ones he felt were the most necessary, together with the alphabet. Today, he had transported you up to his upstairs bedroom because he was going to work on touching up one of his masks that had gotten ripped at a recent scuffle with a particularly feisty dinner guest. Apparently, he didn’t trust you to be alone for more than five minutes. He was sitting at the foot of his bed, with you laying next to him, supporting yourself on your elbows.

Pushing you off did nothing to keep you from poking him at his side with your good foot. “Tommyyy…”, he slowly turned his head to glare at you, and you gave him an innocent smile, trying your best to look like an angel who would definitely not do everything in her power to get on his nerves.

‘What’

His hand was slow as he spelled the word out. He was getting annoyed.

“I’m bored.”, you whine.

All he does is shrug and give you a sarcastic thumbs up. You groan and proceed to just lay flat on your back.

The only ones at home today were you, Thomas, and uncle Monty who were probably snoring on the porch. Charlie was out doing god knows what and Luda Mae was tending to the gas station she worked in. So, here you were, harassing Thomas. You pout behind him, fingers tapping on your stomach as you try to figure out what to do. Then an idea strikes.

You shoot up, thankful for the fact that your leg isn't as painful anymore, making it way easier to move around, even if you couldn’t fully support your weight on it yet.

Another attack on Thomas had you grabbing the mask out of his hands and carefully throwing it on the floor. You giggle as you see him just staring at his empty hands, trying to figure out what had just happened. The action was fast enough to shock him before he lifts his head to look at you. You grin like the devil at him and bursts out in laughter when he glares at you, eyes filled with annoyance, but one eyebrow raised in slight amusement. Again signing slow letters towards you. One at a time.

'W' 'H' 'A' 'T'

With his attention, your plan is set into motion . You knew he was really careful with you, meaning he would never hurt you or barely even use any strength towards you. You clumsily climb into his lap, straddling his thighs, making him tense like a statue, hands hovering and fingers twitching nervously making you laugh before attacking his sides with your own. His reaction is immediate and he bursts out in a barking and deep laugh, a wheezing sound sometimes escaping his lungs and he falls down to lay on his back.

Bingo. You thought.

As quickly as you can, you grab hold of his wrists and pin them down under your thighs, making sure they’re trapped between you and his abdomen. Previous knowledge dancing in your mind that despite his strength, he’s a gentleman, and never has he shown any violence towards you, especially not in your current condition. So pinning him in a way that at first glance looks sexual, would make him lose any and all strength.

And you’re correct. You watch him as his eyes shoot open, lips pressed into a thin line, at the realization where his hands are and he squirms. Another devilish grin appears on your face as you lean in close, making eye contact with him before you utter one simple word.

“Talk.”

His eyebrow furrow and his lips turn down and you feel him tug on his arms, trying to get them free to well… talk to you before he shrugs. “No, nonono, big man.”. You sit back up and clench your thighs hard around his hands.

You want to hear his voice. The idea being that if you pinned him hard enough or long enough that he would cave and actually speak to you. You’d heard him laugh just now, so you knew his vocal cords worked. Besides, he’d told you that himself. He can talk, he just chose one day to never do it anymore. So why not take advantage of your boredom and torture him into speaking. It wasn’t like you had any place to be.

“I want you to hear your voice.”, he raises one eyebrow but keeps his mouth shut. “I want to talk to you.”, again, he tugs at his arms. And again, you clench your thighs hard. Thanking whatever power there was that you had good thigh muscles, his response to this action, however, is a firmer tug and you see his biceps flex. But still, he refused to use his full strength, and you knew he was having fun halfway roughhousing with you.

“Can you stop? You’re not getting your hands for this!”, you laughed at him as he pouted up at you. Leaning forward, you poked his lips the pad of your index finger. “All you have to do is speak to me, nothing more.”, he playfully snapped his teeth at you and you nearly didn’t have time to pull back before your finger got caught and he laughed heartily at your reaction, looking really proud of himself at nearly biting your finger off. “THOMAS!”, you slapped his upper arm but laughed with him before you felt a pain in your cast up leg making you slump down next to him to relax it. “You’re no fun.”, you mumble up at him as he just turns his head to look at your own pouting form next to him.

A yawn escaped you, boredom had transformed into sleepiness.

“Hey, dummy.”, you say jokingly and pokes his masked cheek. He makes a face at you that screams “really?” and you giggle. “Nap with me?”, you continue. He shakes his head and spells out “mask” with his left hand, pointing out that it still needed those repairs. “Oh, come on. It’s not like it’s going anywhere, Tommy.”, he still shakes his and you relent. “Fine! Don’t then,” closing your eyes, you only feel the bed shift as he carefully climbs over you before falling into slumber.

--------------------------------------------

Thomas lands rather wobbly on the floor after climbing over you. He pulls the thin duvet cover over you before he - as discreetly as he can - clears his throat and leans in close to your ear. His voice is just above a whisper. Deep, like distant thunder, as he says two words.

“Sleep tight.”

He picks the mask up that you had thrown down to the floor next to the bed and trudges over to his desk, slumping down into the chair to fiddle with it. Occasionally he glances over to your sleeping form with your back turned to him. He shakes his head at your persistence to make him speak to you. He didn’t understand your sudden fascination with his voice, but he shrugged, and honestly? It was kind of endearing that you wanted to hear him speak so badly. It was also a plus to have someone to roughhouse with, so he would keep this charade up and keep his mouth shut for a little while longer.

Checking that you had truly fallen asleep, curled up on his bed, he sneaks down to the basement. He had the rest of a body to cut up together with some cleaning to do. Plus sort a few stray pieces into a scrap pile of usable meat. Tying his apron around his waist, he docked his phone into a small shoddy speaker system he was lucky enough to snag from some travelers a while back. Not long after, music streamed through the basement.

He unhooks the most recent victim and grunts as the man is laid down on the table. Thomas looks over the parts he had yet to cut up to inspect for damages, finding none, he hums in delight, this meant there would be more meat for food. He starts the process by cleaning the body, scrubbing away dirt, and caked blood.

It’s a fast process, and it was a joy for Thomas to cut this man up, he had a good ratio of fat, and it had marbled really well. He nods as he inspects the meat, and makes sure to put this man in the “ special occasions ”-pile. He knew mama would love to have this man for special dinners. He did get disappointed though, as this poor victim didn’t have much around his ribs. Sadly, there wasn't much of a grillable rib on this man, he did save them of course, but they would most likely join the pieces for ground beef in the end.

He wrapped the pieces he got off of the body in packaging paper and wrote the day's date on them, and what parts they were from, and put the packages in the freezer box. Even if the poor man’s face was too beat up to make a mask off, Thomas did find joy in the fact that he could get some, nice and long pieces from the legs. Finishing his work, he picked up a slightly sharpened spoon. Despite his big fingers he gingerly stuck the edge of it under the man’s eyelids. Careful, as not to pop the eyes, he scooped them out, letting them both hang by their respective optical nerves. After snipping both optic nerves off with a pair of sharp scissors, he carefully rinsed them under some cold water and put them in an airtight container. His mother had perfected pickled eyes over the years and he loved them, that, and her beef jerky.

He cleaned up and tossed the leftovers of the body into a crawlspace he’d constructed that led out into the forest, knowing scavengers came to clean the remains he put there so he thought of it as killing two birds with one stone. Returning to the table he tossed a bowl of water onto the bloodied table and wiped it off.

When he finally felt he could end today’s work, he climbed the stairs and headed straight into the kitchen, fingers moving in the air, deep in thought, stomach rumbling. The munchies always hit him hard when working, and he always tries to push them aside. On the rare occasions where he was mostly home alone, he broke the “ no snacking ”-rule his mama had made for him.

Hence, Thomas goes on a hunt through the kitchen. Opening the biggest pantry, he grabs the first box of crackers he can find and basically inhales the entire box. Unsatisfied, he attacks the fridge and finds something he’s been craving for a long time; the beef jerky. Something he also devours like a ravenous animal, he took a few with him into the living room, munching as he went to slump down on the couch.

He loved being alone like this. It was quiet. No Charlie to pick on him, mama wasn’t constantly on his ass for something he had yet to do. Even with uncle Monty home, he didn’t make a sound, probably dead on the porch but most likely not. Knowing no one is there to scream at him for it, he props his feet up on the coffee table and basically lays down across the table and half of the couch, and lets out a deep sigh, almost deflating like a tire. Leaning his head back to rest at the back of the couch, he looks up at the ceiling through half-lidded eyes, his left fingers tapping slightly at his phone in thought, thoughts that seem to slowly topple over to the forbidden kind.

Fuck it. He thought to himself. And pulled his phone out of his pocket only to head straight for his gallery, he did feel gross for saving that one specific video you'd sent him though, he never asked if he was allowed to or not. He just did it. Looking over his shoulder out to the rest of the house he made sure he was really alone, listening for any movement from you upstairs, or any sign of Monty coming back in.

He quickly swipes for the video, his other hand coming to just rest over his crotch at first. Finally finding the video he was searching for, he presses play and sinks down a bit lower in his seat. It doesn't take long for him to grow and harden under his palm and jeans. His eyes raked over your form in the video. He hasn't watched it since you came here, nor has he touched himself since you sent it. His pants quickly became uncomfortable and let out a sigh of relief as he unzipped and let his erection spring free. Your voice sent chills down his spine, as it rings out from the phone’s speaker, he'd forgotten just how nice you sounded, and he wrapped his free hand around his swollen dick.

A shaky breath escapes him as he slowly drags his hand down himself.

Watching when you pump the toy in and out of you in a steady rhythm made a tinge of jealousy spike through him, his fist gripping harder, a finger dragging over the swollen, angry tip to gather a stray drop of precum. A choked groan escaped him as he nudged his barbell. His eyes went out of focus from his phone screen as he looked up in the general direction of his room. Where you were. Thoughts wandering to how your pussy would feel around him, moving his hand as far up as he could without letting go, he squeezed it as he slowly dragged the hand down. A desperate attempt at imitating how tight you must feel around him. His eyes fluttered shut as a particularly lewd moan from you echoed from his phone.

Thomas was desperate. It was so warm. He'd put his phone down as he let his fantasy take hold. Bucking into one hand, the other massaging his balls.

Glancing down at his lewd activity, he imagined your lips around his cock. Your eyes locking on to him as you let his dick spring free with a 'pop' and how your tongue would dance over his head. It was all so sudden. He tensed up, hand slowing down slightly when he came hard as he heard your climax echo from where his phone lay on the couch with a low moan that transferred to a whine, a slight wheeze escaping his lungs. His cum coated his thighs and hand. He just sat there. Hand still around his cock, hectic pumping exchanged for a slow, lazy stroking motion as he caught his breath.

Eyes half-lidded, the post-orgasm grin on his lips slowly fading into a frown as the realization that he now has laundry to do came to the front of his mind.

God damn it.

--------------------------------------------

You slowly turned over to your back and stretched, a tired sound escaping your lips, sitting up, you noticed you’re alone in the room. Looking around you search for the old, shabby clock on the wall across from the bed.

Whoops… two-hour nap, you grimaced as your nap had become longer than you planned.

“Tommy?”, you called out. No reply. You groaned as you knew that meant he wasn’t in earshot and not having your phone with you upstairs, preventing you from texting him or calling him, meant you had to either support yourself against the walls and closest furniture to get down to the main floor, or to scoot on your ass. “Stupid… fucking… dumdum…”, you muttered as you scooted on your ass out to the hallway. Finally reaching the stairs landing you clung to the railing and hauled yourself halfway up it. “TOMMY!”, you screamed and pouted at him when you saw him poking his head out from the kitchen, you just hung over the railing and glared at the big figure who started to emerge around the corner and stalk towards the stairs, his whole demeanor screaming sarcasm and smart-ass, as he sauntered closer. Your pout growing more and more as you saw his shoulders bouncing in what you could only assume was laughter. “Can you just help me?”, you raised your voice and started flailing with your hands that were hanging over the railing, your eyes went wide as he shook his head before that familiar male voice rang out through his phone.

Get your own ass down

That’s the point where you burst out in laughter.

“Fine!”, you burst out between laughs and proceed to sit down flat on your butt again, preparing to just scoot your way down the stairs. You shot Thomas a look that clearly said “watch this”, as you started thumping down the stairs. One at a time, while Thomas just proceeded to stand in the same spot, now leaning on the door frame just shaking his head at your antics.

Thump Thump Thumpthumpthump Thump

And there you were, now laying on your side on the floor at his feet, rubbing your now sore behind with your hand, crocodile tears clear as you look for sympathy he clearly wasn’t giving you as he just took a step over you. Seeing your opportunity, you grabbed one of his legs the second it landed on the floor, your whole body jolting towards him as he stopped suddenly. You laughed hard as you hugged his leg. He turned halfway and looked down at you, a sigh heavy enough you almost felt your hair moving, you looked up at the giant and just grinned at him.

‘Let go’ he signed, but you could see his own grin even if it was hidden behind his mask and you shook your head.

“Let yourself go”, you joked. A yelp escaped you as you felt him lift his leg just like you weighed absolutely nothing and started shaking it to get you off his leg. Your laugh echoed in the house. An action that just caused you to clamp on to his leg even harder. It wasn’t until the main door opened and you both heard Charlie’s angry voice ring out that you finally did let go. The atmosphere changed straight away. “What the fuck is goin’ on?” You didn’t meet his eyes.

During these weeks, Luda Mae had warmed up to you. Her view of you had changed during the period, and by now, you were one of them. At least to her. Charlie still viewed you as a literal piece of meat. Cattle. The next one up on the dinner table. “I was sitting on the stairs to rest.”, you mumbled as you took a hand Thomas had reached out to you to help you stand and you leaned upon him as he helped you walk over to sit down on a chair in the kitchen.

Charlie just grumbled and waved Thomas over to him, saying something low you couldn’t hear. However, you usually knew what that meant; unwelcomed company. Something that was confirmed by Thomas as he visibly tensed up. Hands clenched into fists.

He was getting himself ready. Your Tommy was gone. Replaced by a guard dog ready to attack, he turned to you and you couldn’t help but shrink under his gaze. His whole appearance had changed in your eyes. You knew it was time to go up to his room and lock the door, and you nodded to him. As you stood he swiped you up in a bridal carry and headed towards the stairs. You gulped. You hated when this happened. No matter how well you knew they ate people, or… how you ate people, you never wanted to see nor hear it. It was easier to eat and continue surviving if you just pretended. Pushing that part away and hiding it behind the good times with Tommy.

But every time, you worried. You worried for Thomas, worried something might go wrong, worried that these people might be the ones who take him away from you. You’d had nightmares about that a few times. How you wake up alone in the house one morning, the entire family gone, taken by the police, or just plain dead. Those nights were always horrible. Those nights, you always called Thomas asking him to come down to the basement bedroom. Because those nights, you just needed to feel him close to you. Those were nights you curled up and cuddled around his arm.

Since you’d seen who Thomas really was, since you’d seen the ugly truth about him, you’d deny your feelings. Strictly holding it on a platonic level. But you couldn’t do that anymore. It was time to admit, not only to yourself but also to him.

--------------------------------------------

Thomas stopped suddenly as he felt your hands tug at the neckline of his t-shirt as he went to set you down on his bed. He grunted slightly and took a soft hold of your wrists to try and pull your hands off. You didn’t move. He pulled his body again, no reaction. At least not more than his body going further downward. His brows furrowed as he started to get annoyed. He didn’t have time for this, not now. There were people coming, which meant he had to go to work. Not play your stupid games.

His grip got harder, but when he heard his name being uttered every so slightly by your small voice, he relaxed.

“Tommy…”, your voice was so low. You sounded so small, so… different. A tinge of worry tugged in his heart and he knelt down in front of you, he reached out a shaky hand to cup your cheek and lifted your head up so he could look you in the face. What meets him has his heart do a double-take. You're glossy-eyed, tears too close to be welling over for comfort. A stray strand of hair that had fallen forward is tucked behind your ear, and he looks at you with questioning eyes.

He slowly raises and spells out "yes", wanting you to continue, knowing he doesn't have much time to stay.

Your breathing sounds as shaky as he feels. "I…", he follows your eyes with his own, desperate for you to look him in his eyes. After avoiding his gaze, he relaxes slightly as you finally relent and meet him. But the next two words make him tense up, in a different way. Just as low as before, you whisper them out. "Kiss me." His breathing becomes ragged, still, as a statue, he looks at you as you lean towards him, but stop just inches from the hole in his mask. Breathing hot against his lips. He's nervous, scared, anxious… in love, but his body won’t move. It’s not listening to him. "Please…", the word a mere breath on him. He gulps, and just as he feels the feathery touch of your lips only brushing against his; he's up on his feet.

Footsteps are heavy and hurried. He closes the door to his room and locks it from the outside, something he only does when there are guests coming to the house. Afraid they’ll find you.

His heart is beating so fast, he’s shaky and sweaty. Suddenly his t-shirt feels even more clingy and cramped. He knows he can’t stay like this any longer. He got work to do. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he steps out of his body to let it do what needs to be done. Gone is Tommy, and all that’s left is the shell of a deranged butcherer. A maniac with a chainsaw.

He still has time to change. When he still had his job at the slaughterhouse, he had a green and red striped shirt. A shirt he still chose when they had guests over. With heavy footsteps, he heads down into the basement. After buttoning the shirt up he looked into the mirror, eyes dark and brows furrowed. When things were bad, he never even recognized himself when he looked it, during these bad days his arm guards were the heaviest things he had to wear. His apron was slung over his neck and tied neatly behind his back and the mask he mostly used during these events snugly pulled over his head. The killing mask, as he liked to call it. The one he had to use to distance himself from this.

While waiting for his signal from the main floor, he sat down at his desk. Making sure everything is secured, making sure nothing will get in the way. And most importantly; making sure his chainsaw is in working condition. Which, of course, it is. He took great pride in how he managed it. Always giving it a good clean after every dinner party. He’d memorized every video he’d found on the internet on chainsaw maintenance, since he knew they couldn’t afford a new one if this one happened to be damaged, one time coming close to it. But that was no concern of him at this moment of time.

Suddenly, he heard voices from the floor above him, voices and footsteps. And he figured; it’s almost time. His grip on the chainsaw hardened as he rose to slowly and carefully ascend the stairs, sneaking and making a conscious choice to skip the parts that he knew made creaking noises. Stopping at the top, he peered into the eye hole, installed at one point, to check how many he could see.

Two… two here. Charlie said at least three.

These ones look scrawny, not much to make use of. Shame, he really did want some nice ribs one evening, making him hope the third one had more. But maybe these had enough to make ground beef for burgers… He snapped out of his food-driven daydream as he heard his uncle Monty screaming for him from outside the sliding door. Three hard knocks on the floor were his call sign. And only seconds after the third one had echoed, he burst out. Chainsaw roaring, drowning out any other sound in the house.

At that, the chase began.

He managed to get one of them in the leg at one point, and she went down like a tree. Screeching high enough to pierce the mechanical roar, making his ears hurt enough for him to land a fist on her face to make her shut up.

One down, two to go.

Hauling her inside, he just threw her down the stairs to the basement, where she would have an abrupt awakening at some point, he’d learn that it was best to take care of them as fast as possible. It did taste better in his opinion. And so, he went off to get the other two.

Adrenaline is shooting through him. He’s hungry and wants dinner. And if a man wants to feed, a man has to hunt.

--------------------------------------------

You heard screaming and clamped your hands over your ears. Your own screaming desperate to shut it out. It didn’t help. Putting your head under the pillow and squeezing it around your head didn’t help either. Nothing helps. They were still there. That screaming… That roaring. And the running.

You jumped when, suddenly, someone collided with the door. Desperately tugging the handle, making the door rattle. You had you press your hands over your mouth to keep quiet, to not scream, to not alert them you were in here. Some sick part of you never wanted to leave Thomas. You couldn’t leave. And especially not this way. When you heard his heavy footsteps stomping towards the poor person trying to get away, you started crying. When you heard a squelching, mushy sound, you wanted to puke. And you actually viciously gagged when you saw a crimson stream under the door into the room.

You didn’t want to think about what he had done to the person outside. You didn’t. You closed your eyes hard enough to see white spots dance across blackness and scooted further up onto the bed, hiding behind the pillow, in pure hope that you would disappear from this madness.

It really did feel like days… months, even before you heard the door make a sound. It sounded like a key was pushed into place, and then it clicked open. Lifting your head towards it, you saw him. Thomas. At least it had his body and his eyes. But it wasn’t him. Not Tommy. You started breathing harder, heavier.

Was he really going to see you? Or was he going to see… cattle?

He was drenched in blood, pieces of skin and flesh hanging off belts and buckles around his arms. His face… Not his own. This was not Tommy. This was the monster you’d imagined when you first woke up in the basement. The murderer. The butcher of Texas. And for the first time since you’d woken up bolted down on a table, you were scared. You didn’t want to look at him like this, didn’t want to see this.

“Please…”, you started and followed his eyes as they flicked all over the room, he was looking around. At nothing, and everything at once. Breathing heavy. Hands twitching at his sides before they clenched and unclenched. You tried again, tried connecting to him. “Tommy, please.”, his nickname seemed to make the eyes of someone else snap towards you. “Come back to me.”, even if you were shaking like a leaf, you needed Tommy right now. He looked directly at you before shaking his head, and a dark rumble erupted from him. “No.”, and with that. He left again. Bloody boot prints trailing after him. “Tommy, wait!”, you yelled after him, hoping to once again connect to him, to get him to come back to you.

But to no avail.

-------------------------------------------- It had been an easy fight for him, barely even any fighting back. They seemingly had just given up as they realized what was going to happen. Something Thomas was grateful for. He wasn’t in the mood for fist fighting or getting stabbed again.

His movements were slow and methodical as he cut them up. Loud music echoed through the basement. He was alone, and the cattle dead. So he seized the opportunity to work without his mask. He wanted to breathe free air. It was really rare of him to actually do anything except shower without his mask, even with the one that only covered half his face, but sometimes. Just sometimes, he wanted to.

His prayers were answered though, as the third one did have more to work with. Meaning; he would get those ribs he wanted one night. By the time he started to feel done for the evening, he’d managed to get a whole heap of good meat from the third victim. He wrapped them neatly in package paper, wrote today’s date on them, and put them at the bottom of the freezer box.

After working for the most part of the night, having three dinner guests to take care of, meant it was late. Really late. His mama had come down a few times, reminding him he had to eat, telling him she had checked on you. At one point, she had come down and told him you’d fallen asleep. But you hadn’t touched your food, and she told him she was worried. All Thomas did was tell her not to worry. Hours later, he was done. And finally, he could relax. Finally, he could let go of this persona. He could return to himself again. Very few things made him feel this happy. Every piece of his working attire that came off him felt like a stone leaving his shoulders. He was the only one who could keep the entire family floating, and he knew that.

After hanging the apron upon its hook, after he’d put the armguards down on their table, and after putting his mask back on, he ascended the stairs with heavy steps. He was tired.

And he missed you.

His mama had been a true angel and cleaned the puddle of blood up from under his bedroom door and the whole upper floor smelled of lemon. Just as he reached his door, his brain wandered back to what you had told him earlier. What you had done. What you wanted from him.

And when that thought came back, Tommy was thrown back into his body again, and he opened the bedroom door. His mama was right, you were sleeping, curled up with your broken leg sticking out from under the blanket . You, hugging his pillow with your face buried in it. Usually, when there's been a dinner party, you would sleep in his upstairs bedroom and he in the basement.

But now, things felt different for him.

He checked the time, you'd slept through supper, he just didn’t eat more than a few snacks while working, so he decided it was time for bed. Maybe he could gather enough courage to do what you wanted him to do earlier. Closing the door silently, the lock clicked. Boots were kicked off, jeans were left to fall as they were unbuttoned. The heavy clinking seemed to make you stir, and he saw you slightly opening your eyes. "Come here…", your voice was low, and it held something he'd never heard from you before, causing a small shiver to run through him, but he obliged and shuffled forward.

--------------------------------------------

Here he was, Tommy. Your sweet, sweet giant. His body loomed over yours, his hair tickled your face as it fell forward making you giggle, something that was met by a dark chuckle as he wiggled more hair on your face. “Tommy, stoop!”, you laughed out quietly, but he shook his head in a mocking “no” and just continued swiping his dark locks over you if only for a few seconds more. You couldn’t help but laugh at his dorky behavior. All traces of the terrifying man you saw earlier, blown out to sea. When he finally did stop, your left hand reached out and cupped his right cheek as you tucked some hairs behind his ear. When you saw how he leaned into your hand and let his eyes flutter close, your heart did a double-take.

He stayed like that, seemingly relishing the feeling of your hand on his masked cheek and the way your finger brushed behind his ear, before he finally opened his blue eyes again, meeting yours. You saw how his eyes quickly flickered down to your lips. Where a small smile tugged, and you repeated the same words you had done earlier when he had left you. Voice low, whispering, words only meant for him to hear;

“Kiss me.”, this time, however, he didn’t run away. Your heart picked up in rhythm as you saw him lean in closer to you, his forehead resting against yours. Eyes intense, yet soft. He acted like he was scared, you could feel how his breathing was slightly ragged, you guessed he was nervous. Craning your neck towards him, to reach, he leaned back slightly. Yeah, he was definitely nervous all of a sudden, the thought of this big giant man, who the same day had killed people being nervous about a kiss, was nothing short of adorable. Again, you stopped just short of your lips meeting his, and breathed out that same word; “Please…”

You looked at him through half-lidded eyes, how his own slowly closed, and then you felt his lips land on yours through the mask. It was soft, not rushed nor forced. You ignored the chappy parts of his lips and relished in just feeling them on yours. Wrapping a hand around his neck, you pulled him down with you so you could both be more comfortable as the kiss deepened. You could easily tell that he was inexperienced, but he did seem eager to learn more, to feel more, and to taste more.

You caressed his neck and back of the head with one hand, the other carded through his hair.

Suddenly, he seemed to have gathered enough courage to take risks, and you felt the tip of his tongue graze your lips, kindly asking for an invitation. An invitation you gladly accepted, a moan escaping you as you finally felt his tongue meet yours. You couldn’t focus on how he tasted, he just tasted like Tommy. He was masculine, and dominant in nature when he wanted to be, and right now? It seemed like he wanted to be, his tongue strong and demanding against yours as he mimicked your movements.

--------------------------------------------

Tommy happily drank in every moan that came down his throat as he danced his tongue over you. He loved this, he loved this so much. The way you reacted to only feeling his tongue against yours, made him braver. His right hand moved from its place by your head and started traveling over your left arm with featherlight touches. He gently grabbed your hand, pulling it up and over your head, opening up for easier access to your side, from where he slowly moved it upwards, he knew where to go, but then his body stopped listening to him. You whined slightly as his hand stopped just right under your breast, hand pulling back again as his thumb grazed the soft plump underside.

His brain caught up to him and he pulled away from your lips and sat up. Face warm and blushed, and he knew you could see it over the edge of his mask and down his neck because you giggled.

“Tommy, c’mere.”, you whispered to him and he saw how you reached out for his hands, he let you take them, but when he saw that you pulled them towards your breasts again he tugged them out of your grip and shook his head. He wanted to, dear god how he wanted to touch you. He wanted to hear your voice sing for him.

But he was scared. Nervous. The only sexual experience being a halfhearted blowjob from one of Charlie’s ugly hookers out of pity, something he figured she’d done because Charlie had talked about him in his drunken state.

But here you were. He just looked at you shyly. His breath hitched, however, when you suddenly rose up and pulled your shirt off. Bed bouncing lightly as you let your body fall down back on to the bed. Tommy’s eyes went wide as he saw your breasts jiggle softly as you lay back down. You were so beautiful, and he was just a big giant blushy mess who didn’t know what or how or why, if he spoke, he would probably just be a blubbering mess as well.

Again, he saw you reach for his hands, but this time, he shakily let you take them to their rightful place. He gulps as his hands are planted right under your breasts, your own hands helping him cup them gently, yet firmly. His eyes shot up to your face as he heard you sigh deeply at his touch. Your head lolled back, exposing your neck, the sight making him wet his lips with his tongue, an urge to hear more from you hit him.

Leaning down to where your neck met your shoulder he tested his waters and slowly dragged his tongue over your skin, his mask making so he couldn’t envelop his entire mouth over your skin as he wanted. The response he got from you, however, made him truly desperate.

Sitting up, his hand flew to the back of his mask but stopped right as he was about to unbuckle it. Anxiety hitting him hard. You seemed to notice it, though, as you followed him up into a sitting position.

--------------------------------------------

His nervousness was clear as ice. But you could see in him that he wanted this. So you took his hands in yours and brought them down from the back of his head. “You don’t have to remove it.”, you whispered to him, you saw one of his hands come up, guessing he would spell something, you turned your head towards it.

‘Want’

You hummed at it and smiled. Turning back to look into his eyes, you asked;

“Want me to do it?” You dragged your fingers tenderly through his hair until you felt the buckles. You knew that taking the mask off to snap a photo must have been hard enough for him, so now? Taking it off in front of you? It has to be a real-life nightmare. He sighed deeply, then exhale being ragged and shaky. Yet still, he nodded. You felt his hands coming to rest on your waist.

“Okay…” You said before carefully and slowly unbuckling it. His eyes were closed during the whole removal. Finally getting it off, you cupped his naked and scarred cheeks, kissing the worst parts. Giving him the love he deserved, the one he most likely never got. His lips met yours again and you pulled him down with you. It seemed like he had gathered up more courage as you felt his big hands wander over your body, still shaking, they returned to cup your breasts. As one of his thumbs gently grazed over a nipple you lolled your head back at the sudden contact.

That’s when his attack came.

Lips and tongue made contact with your neck and you moaned . A sound that seemed to awaken something in him as he even bit down where your neck met your shoulder. He continued his adventure on your neck until your sounds had begun to die down only so slightly, but it seemed enough for him to go on a quest to hear more.

His mouth found one of your hardened nipples and decided to give it attention, in between gasping and your eyes falling close, you found and took his hand not occupied with anything and led it down… down across your body.

When it seemed he felt where you had led it, his eyes came up to your face to look into your own. His eyes filled with lust, and want, pupils were blown out, the blue of his irises a stark contrast.

--------------------------------------------

“Tommy… Please.”, you sounded so desperate to him, so needy for someone like him. Who looked like him.

He brought his face back up to yours and as he gingerly pushed his hand down into your shorts, he himself made a needy sound as he felt how wet you’ve become because of him, he pressed his lips to yours the same moment his fingers made contact with your wet slit.

A way to cover up the now loud sounds you made as to not wake his family, and because of hunger, he didn’t know he had to swallow every bit of moan you made.

Burying his fingers deep inside you, his thumb rubbed massaging circles on your clit, he panted against your neck, the other hand clamped over your mouth to make sure you didn’t make too much noise, as he moved his fingers in and out of you. At the same time, he slowly ground his erection against your thigh. He wanted to feel you climax around his fingers, he wasn’t entirely sure why, but he needed to. He’d seen you do it to yourself, and a part of him wanted to replace any memory of your fingers with his own.

He grinned when he saw a shaky hand come up in the corner of his eye and he guessed you wanted to tell him something, but the hand he held over your mouth hindered you, so using your hand would suffice. When he saw you couldn’t fully concentrate, he pulled his fingers from you to give you time. Hand dragging your own slick over your breast to mess with you as he cocked an eyebrow in question.

Your breathing relaxed as you used the alphabet to give your word;

‘clit'

It was simple, a request, guidance, and Thomas were more than happy to please. You looked sweaty, but he happily obliged as his hand gingerly returned to massage gentle, but firm and methodical circles around your most sensitive part.

--------------------------------------------

You pant into the palm of his hand as you felt your stomach clench, the muscles in your broken leg tense up. You were close, oh so close, and you wondered if he really was new to this, or if he was just lucky and really curious about everything.

Grasping at the arm wedged between your breasts that held the hand over your mouth, you opened your eyes, only to find his burning gaze locked on your face. He was looking at you like a hungry animal. His eyes sent full body shivers running through you. The familiar pulsing around your clit became worse as his lips parted slightly, his tongue running over his dry lips, removing his hand from your mouth, he captured your lower lip between his teeth lightly and pulled. A deep but raspy rumble came from his throat as he pushed two fingers into you while still rubbing his thumb over your sensitive nub, your eyes went wide and all it took for you to snap completely was one single, vibrating word coming from his throat;

“Cum.”, and you did. You came hard. Your whole body shaking under his. Arching off the bed. You tensed so hard, no word could escape. The only sound being wheezing breathing from your lungs. You went limp, but you knew that this wasn’t the end. You felt his broad hands slide over your thighs in a calming motion, a finger tapping on you got your attention and you opened your eyes.

He just smiled down on you, raised a hand, and signed;

'U ok'

You breathed out a laugh.

"Yeah… yeah I'm alright.", you reached out for him and he happily put his own cheeks into your hands and nuzzled into one of them. You pulled him close to whisper; "I want you, Tommy.", he sighed softly as he pressed his forehead to yours. "I've wanted you for so long." You kissed your way to one of his ears, gingerly biting down on his earlobe, he shivered at it. "Please, fuck me, Tommy.", you said in a sultry voice and he groaned.

You cursed your leg since it hindered you from climbing on top of him. You wanted to trail your lips down his muscles, over his abdomen, and to explore the wonderful trail of hair that ventured down from his belly button into his boxers. Pushing him off the bed so he could stand in front of you, however, worked. The angle was perfect. His height putting your face just above the edge of his boxers. Your hands ventured from his thighs, slowly up his abdomen, a small almost unnoticed gasp left his lips as your fingers brushed over his nipples as you reached his pectorals.

Sitting up, your hands groped over his pectorals. You're stunned at his physique. He was soft where you liked it, muscles strong and firm where it mattered the most. You felt a finger under your chin as he lifted your head up to look at him, a grin danced in the corner of his lips, seeing it almost made you forget how to breathe. His grin made you braver and you let your hands travel downwards again while looking into his eyes. He made one sharp inhale as you slowly run your palm over his clothed erection.

Hooking your thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, you left a trail of kisses across his happy trail, leading downwards until you felt the part of him that seemed to silently beg for you. Neither photos nor videos did him any justice, and you moaned around his dick as his fingers tangled in your hair. His breathing was heavy, snarls and growls emanating from above you the deeper you managed to push his enormous cock down your throat.

Hollowing your cheeks as you drag your lips and tongue up and off of him, your tongue pressing on the underside massaging lightly at his silver jewelry, something that made him practically pull your mouth off of him with a pop. A clear snarl escaped him when you looked up at him with lips wet and swollen, and you couldn’t help but grin like the devil at him . He snarled at how you looked up at him, lips wet and swollen, and you couldn't help but grin like the devil at him.

--------------------------------------------

Pushing you back down into the bed, he helped you off with your shorts before carefully putting your damaged leg up on his shoulder, something he had seen on the internet. Looking down at you, you looked so small and innocent, compared to him. An angel; undressed, needy, wet. And all of that for him. His heart was a drum, dangerously close to escaping his chest.

He felt like such a creep, a pervert who just stared down at your naked form. Hands groping your thighs and giving each of them a delicious squeeze before caressing your abdomen. One part of him was scared that he would damage you, the other part of him, laying over your mound and throbbing in pure need, wanted nothing more than to imprint himself into you. He jolted out of his reverence as he felt your hands wrap around his length, slowly moving over his head, making it wet with precum before you said the words he wanted to hear;

"It's okay, Tommy… I want you.", he nodded and pulled back slightly, letting you help guide him home.

A whine and a haggard groan came from him as he felt you slowly wrap around him, and his head fell backward. Warm, wet, and tight. All he wanted at this moment was to keep pushing until all of him was hilted inside you , but a small whimper from you pulled him out of his trance and he was quick to pull out before you stopped him.

"No! It's okay!", Thomas looked down at you with worry in his eyes, but a few reassuring “okay"s and "it's fine"s managed to convince him, and slowly he pushed further in.

Thomas was soaring at this point. Your walls hugging him in all the right places, your moans and gasps sending shivers down his spine and exploding in his cock. A groan left him as he felt your walls clench when his tongue entered your mouth. Slowly, he started thrusting.

The first one had you gasping into his mouth. At the second, you broke the kiss. The third, a particularly loud moan left you, making him have to clamp his hand over your mouth again. When the fourth thrust hit, he saw your eyes roll back and you arching off the bed, and he took that as his sign to go to town.

--------------------------------------------

You were a total mess. Your head was bleary, your eyes blurry with joyful tears. Your ass is moist from your own arousal that streamed down your thighs as Thomas' fucked into you as a man starved.

He had hurt first, his dick big enough to split you in two if you were unlucky. But as soon as the pain had subsided, you begged for more.

For "harder" and "faster", words that only spurred him on, his thrusts became deeper, hitting parts inside you you didn’t know could feel good. Making you a blubbering mess, his name tumbling out from behind his hand every time the lewd sound of his hips hitting your wet thighs reached your ears. So here you were, a hand tightly clamped over your mouth to keep you from alerting the family of your activity with tears of pleasure streaming down your face.

Suddenly, you felt even more pleasure as he started rubbing your clit with his other thumb. All you could do was look down at the mess he had made of you and up to his eyes.

Him, just as much of a mess as you, huffing and puffing, hair sticking to his forehead, chest coated in sweat, pupils blown wide and brows furrowed, face contorted in pleasure. The sight made your cunt clench around him, squeezing a wheezing sound from his throat.

His attention to your clit quickly brought the familiar feelings of your orgasm. Wiggling your upper teeth free you to bite down on his hand as you looked into his eyes, your own pleading for release. One hard press and a few circles with his thumb made you snap. One hand gripping the sheet until your knuckles turned white, the other clawing at his arm, you had to force yourself not to scream behind his hand as you came on his dick. His hips started moving in pure desperation, and you figured he was close. He leaned in, and you felt his lips and tongue brush against your neck before that deep, baritone voice of his came out in your ear again; "Haaahhh… fuck." How he managed to make one word feel so filthy, you had no idea. What you did know was that you wanted to hear it again. And again. And again . Wrapping your arms around his neck, one hand entangling in his hair and grabbing a fist full of his dark locks to pull at it to pull his face to yours, your action earning you a delicious sound from him. Tommy is an absolute mess, he’s trembling above you.

And you can’t help but smile at him.

“Are you close, baby?”, you whisper to his lips and he nods fervently as he desperately chases his release. Pulling his hair again, you expose his neck to you. The neck you’ve wanted to taste since you saw his face for the first time. Whimpers begin to tumble from him, adorable desperate sounds of pleasure escaping as you slowly drag your tongue over his neck.

But it’s when your teeth sink into him that he breaks down.

--------------------------------------------

Thomas pushes himself as far as he can as his release crashes into him like a tidal way, pushing you further up the bed. His groaning voice loud but choked, doing his best to swallow the sounds he makes when his cock finally fills you. The pain from the bite shooting through his body and mixing with the euphoric feeling of your walls clenching around his pulsing cock. He shivers as he feels your tongue lap over the bite mark. Somewhere inside of him, he hopes it won’t leave a mark, though right at this moment where he’s in the process of marking you as his, he doesn’t really care if it does leave a mark.

He’s shaking as he looks down at your equally exhausted form. He gives you a tired smile, an exhausted one, and leans his forehead against yours, your breathing a cold refreshing gust of air at his sweaty face. He could stay in this position his entire life. Pure bliss. But his muscles start complaining, and he hisses as he pulls himself out to collapse next to you, chuckling as you bounce slightly because of his weight dropping all at once.

Poking your cheek to get you to open your eyes, seeing as you’re well on your way to a night of deep sleep, he spells out a question;

‘U ok?’’

He lets out a sigh of relief as you nod tiredly. Even if he had just fucked every drop of energy out of both you and himself, he’s surprised to see you cuddle up into his sweaty chest. Unsure of what to do, he relaxes just a tiny bit as you laugh before taking his arms and wrapping them around yourself. It takes a while for Thomas to relax to the point of falling asleep, but as his brain is slowly registering that you’re not leaving him, and that you actually have fallen asleep in his arms, he lets sleep take him, with his face buried in your hair.

#CICU #Can I See You #modern!thomas #modern thomas fanfiction #thomas hewitt #thomas leatherface hewitt #thomas hewitt fanfiction #tcm: the beginning #tcm #tcm fanfiction #modern au

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heresathreebee · 4 years ago

Text

Bloody Mess

[Ralph Lamont X Female Reader]

AN: ok 1st of all this got Nasty and also I wanted to try a different format

Warning(s): +17 | Hemophilia, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it), mentions of abuse, dead body (he deserved it), little rough, sub!Ralph Lamont, cum eating, hair pulling. Masterlist

Alright so I was dragging my feet to watch the episode of Blue Bloods with Alex Brightman in it and I'm glad I did because I got some cool ideas. I don't watch cop centric shows anymore but I thought Ralph would be a cool Italian mob type: turns out he's some dickhead twitch gamer who murdered a girl for stupid reasons I can't remember.

So fuck cannon, he's a 90's mobman now.

**YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED**

Imagine Ralph Lamont is a one man clean up crew. He's the go-to guy for any jobs gone wrong, gone messy. Body needs disappearing without a trace? Ralphie's your guy.

Kinda like The Wolf from Pulp Fiction (Tarentino, 1994)

Hydrochloric acid, latex, bleach, bone saw: all he needs is a few hours and it's like there was never a brutal murder here. (Sometimes this is accomplished with a distraction, a staged robbery or shoot out a few counties over if there were too many witnesses)

So Mr. Clean I mean Mr. Lamont gets a job at your home.

It's a cute little 3rd floor apartment with a Mr. and Mrs. Andersen living in it.

Mr. Andersen is– pardon, was– a bookkeeper for Dr. Coolidge (friend of Ralphie's; they both like sterile environments), so it's a favor. Dr. Coolidge mentioned over the phone he expected something "like this" to happen sooner or later. He asked Ralphie to be delicate with you– the late Mrs. Andersen.

You buzz him in without a word.

He finds you leaning against the kitchen island, putting out the cherry of your cigarette. You put it out right on Mr. Andersen's ugly yellow tie (or he thinks it used to be yellow)

It's a fucking blood bath in here. Mr. Andersen was a bleeder. Red splashes and streaks cover the counters, the toaster, the oven door, the fridge. There are bloody footprints on the floor and an honest-to-go pool of it dripping off the counter right next to Andersen's final resting place. You left the steak knife in his throat and he must have sat down in that island chair never to get back up again. His eyes are listless and grey.

Ralphie walks around you, careful to keep you in his peripheral just in case you weren't done "expressing yourself." The linen of your frock is stained, your feet are bare, and your eye is black and swollen. Some of your bruises are old.

In his sweep, he finds three bloodied knives in the sink: a bread knife, a fillet knife, and a cleaver.

"Mrs. Andersen," he says as he turns back to you, "if you wouldn't mind moving to the bedroom for me? You've made quite a mess and I'd hate for you to have to see anymore violence."

"You gonna fight him for my honor? He's already dead."

Ralphie chuckles. "No ma'am. I'm gonna cut him up into pieces so the gallons of acid I brought with me dissolve his corpse efficiently. I'll need to borrow your bathtub for that, and you don't want to try getting cleaned up after the fact. It's no good for the skin."

He's circled around the white marble kitchen island to stand before you. He's calm. The smile on his face is easy and it soothes you. You drop your eyes and catch an unexpected sight.

"Are you…" you wipe at your mouth a accidentally leave a crusted red streak. "Do you get off on this?"

Mr. Lamont shifts his stance; no doubt you've seen the light tent in his pants. "What can I say except I admire your handiwork, Mrs. Andersen. I imagine you may have wanted him to die slowly and painfully. Was it all that you hoped for?"

You turn sheepish (incredible, really, surrounded by such admirable evidence of your own rage) and nod. "It was…"

"Glad to hear," he says softly. "Now, if you wouldn't mind..."

He places a gentle hand on your shoulder but you step away from the island and change his distant, guiding gesture into an intimate embrace. He looks at you in surprise when he feels you wrap your hands around his back beneath his blazer.

"I seem to suffer a similar affliction," you tell him and press yourself into his erection. "You wouldn't mind giving a girl a hand, would you?"

Well it certainly wasn't part of the job, but he was eager to please.

“As you like it,” he whispered, pulling you into a soft kiss.

Your blood sings in your veins. You’ve just killed your no good louse of a husband and now you’ve got your tongue down a stranger’s throat. And a handsome one too, so polite (you were still wary of him but if Dr. Coolidge sent him perhaps he couldn’t be all bad)

You tug at his tie as if it would make him any closer to being inside of you. The smell of copper is a never ending assault on your senses, but you also smell wood smoke beneath it on his collar.

Mr. Lamont’s cheeky hands find your hips and a second later he’s helping you sit up on the kitchen counter. You can see your husband from the corner of your eye, his mouth hanging open in eternal anguish. It just serves to intensify your lust for life.

You give Mr. Lamont's belt a meaningful tug and slip back down to the floor to turn around

You mean to ask him to help you with your zipper, but instead you feel his lips at your neck just before his hand grips the back of your head and pushes you down, face first into the counter inches away from the pool of blood.

Your hand slides through the sticky essence and you feel Lamont draw your skirts up and your underthings down.

You gasp with a shriek as you feel something hot slide up your slit and over your other hole. Did he just lick you???

The living man growls in what sounds like pleasure, pulling at his sleek tie just enough to loosen the constriction at his throat and then he’s shucking his pants down.

You’re not sure if you want him to work you up slowly or take what he wants but you hold your breath and let him lead. You’re far from disappointed when he massages the meat of your rear and leans over your back.

“You can still change your mind, doll,” he whispers, “not too late to go shower and forget today.”

You consider it but you don’t want to forget. You want the feeling of Georgie’s life slipping through your fingers to soothe you to sleep every night. You want to carry the pleasure of giving your former husband a reason for his rampant jealous streak and know that for once there was nothing he could do about it. You want this living man to make this strange and terrifying day to end in bliss and solidify everything like lightning striking sand.

You lift your head and run your dripping red hand through his pristine locks. He locks eyes with you and a shiver runs through him as a droplet lands on his nose. “I don’t want to stop, Mr. Lamont. Now be a good guest and fuck me.”

“Call me Ralphie please,” he breathes, and he’s all too happy to comply. You feel his cock slip between your folds and as he enters you as he promised, you lick your lips and taste cherry and rust.

“Ralphie… Ralphie…” He loves the sound of his name on your lips, the squishing sound of your lovely womanhood taking everything he gives it. He puts a single hand on your hip leans back to take it all in: the bloody kitchen, the stiff, the lecherous moans, the sweat making his shirt stick to his back, the misleading cleanliness of the back of your dress…

Mr. Lamont runs his hand through the slime in his hair but that blood is already drying. He splashes it into the pool next to you and leaves a bloody print on your back, holding you down to the counter by your shoulder and driving his hips into you harder.

He can hear you’re close by the crescendo of your voice. He’s close too, and ever the gentleman, he slips out of you and flips you onto your back, pulling up a dainty leg in your daze so he can re enter your heat like he belonged there. He’s resumed fucking you in mere seconds and he likes this position because now he can see your eyes roll back into your head.

“Where do you want it,” he grunts out. He’s trying not to come but he doesn’t have the willpower to slow down. He needs your answer, and fast...

For a moment your eyes go hard. Mr. Lamont gulps and worries for a second you’re going to pull the steak knife out of your husband’s throat to slit his, but instead you take a hold of his hair and pull his head back into an awkward but commanding angle.

He feels your breath ghost over his neck. “My house, my rules. Make me see stars and I’ll tell you when to stop.”

You sink your teeth into his neck and reach down to circle your pearl. Mr. Lamont does as he’s told, hissing and grunting but he holds off his release to give you exactly what you want.

He has to stop thrusting when you start those delicious rhythmic tremors. He has to hold you up as you throw your head back and lose your balance, dependent on him to keep you upright. He takes over rubbing your pearl with a similar pressure as the one he watched you give yourself, and eased you back down from heaven into the bloody abyss on earth.

For a second Ralph fears you’ve got too much control. What will he do if you tell him not to come at all? He’ll do as you command, of course, but how cruel were you going to treat him now that you’ve gotten what you wanted? He’s seen your handiwork all around, remember that.

But your eyes turn soft and he’s worried you’re about to cry, that is until he watches you slip down to your bruised knees and ease your dress down your shoulders. Now you look positively debauched, breast bared and eyes turned up with a pleading look.

“Finish on me, Ralphie.” You bit your lip and hope to god he’s still listening. “Right over my heart.”

Ralph Lamont has never whimpered before. He’s doing it right now. How the fuck did he end up like this?

He strokes his cooling cock, taking everything in from his position above you and feeling his drumming heartbeat in the throbbing of his member. The only word going through his head is yes

Ralphie gives one of you tits a squeeze, then gets an idea

It's a little awkward trying to get you to understand, but you catch on and there's this eager glow in your eyes

You help him slot his cock between your breasts and continue to jerk him off, using your hands as necessary to assist

He's not far now seeing you-- feeling you like that

Ralphie comes with a groan, a white rope painting your chin and splattering cockeyed down over your neck and onto the tops of your breasts. He has to catch himself on the counter as the next rope dribbles lower, half slipping into your cleavage and the rest staining the neckline of your ruined dress. His hips jerk once, twice. You let him slip from your embrace and twist your hand over the head just to milk whatever he has left into your mouth, and then he collapses into a heap beside you.

You let him catch his breath for a minute, then grasp his jaw and turn his head towards you. You’re looking down your nose at him again and his vulnerable eyes beg for more.

“Now look what you’ve done,” you gesture to the milky essence covering your skin in mock annoyance. “Clean it up like a good boy.”

Eyes half lidded, Ralphie leans towards you in a trance, tongue swiping over every pearlescent trail and stray droplet until you’re ‘clean’ again

Completely spent, the man rests his head against your shoulder. Your hands come up to cradle him, stroking his matted hair as if you've not a care in the world

When he's ready he helps you stand up and straightens his clothes

Instead of helping you back into yours he strips you of them

"These will have to be burned, I'm afraid," he tells you. "Go on now, take a nice long bath and I'll call Kevin to see if he can take you somewhere for the night

You have to clear the tub and run it again to get truly clean. All of that grime builds up thick on your skin while you were having your acts of catharsis.

You slip into a satin frock in your favorite color and let Kevin whisk you away to a movie for the night

As you fix your earring in the rearview mirror, you catch sight of Ralph Lamont on your balcony. He waves down at you leaning against the ledge and unbothered by the state of his clothes. From this far down, it doesn't look like blood

But you know better, don't you?

@hoodoo12 @escape-your-grape

#Ralph Lamont x reader #Alex Brightman #three bees writing #🐝🐝🐝✒#smut #tw blood #black reader insert

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years ago

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EARLY BIRD

Angel Reyes x Reader

Anon asked: could you write an imagine with angel Reyes in which you think he’s gonna break up with you because he’s been distant with you.

Word Count: 1.9k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @starrynite7114 ✨

Author comments: I'm sorry it took me so long! I just needed some time away from my phone, 'cause I was feeling somewhat sick, but I'm back! I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon @mara-mpou @sammskellington @gemini0410 @1-800-imagines @briana-mishell24 @sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

Another morning, waking up in an empty bed and the next side to yours totally cold. You snort turning your body above it, pulling your hair away from your forehead with a hand. There's any noise outside of the bedroom, the one you were supposed to share with Angel because, probably, he left the house stealthily some hours ago. You don't know what's going on. You don't know what's happening between you. And at any time you have tried to talk with him about it, he only says that everything is okay and you're just a little paranoid. You want to believe him. You really try with all your efforts, but there's a bunch of insecurities getting stuck inside your chest oppressing it, that doesn't let air through.

✉: “hey, early bird”

You haven't thought about it, grabbing your phone to know if he is still alive, leaving it on the pillow where your head is resting. Some minutes laters, when you're almost falling asleep again, the advice dings turning on the screen.

✉: “eh”

That's all. And he keeps saying that nothing has changed. For sure.

✉: “you free 2nig?”

✉: “i think so”

“y?”

✉: “we could have a night in”

“dinner and movie”

“hang out for beers”

✉: “am into first”

✉: “k! 7? 8?”

✉: “8 good”

✉: “k! ily”.

✉: “back”

You know he's not going to come, but at least you try it.

When the night is about to fall down plunging Santo Padre into the darkness of the desert, you begin to set up ready in case a miracle happens. Putting the steaks you bought at pops, in the pan with some oil and salt over low heat, you leave the kitchen to change your clothes. Wearing nothing but his favorite shirt, you spread on your neck and collarbone that fruity and fresh perfume he loves the most. And picking up your hair in a ponytail, you walk barefoot back to the kitchen. It's flooded by the delicious smell of the meat cooking slowly, turning them to the other side when it's getting golden. Leaving the food in the background, you go next to the freezer checking that the cold beers are ready to be drinked. You have popcorn, candies and chocolate for later. Everything is on point, even if you don't have much faith that he's going to come.

You weren't wrong.

At half past nine you're sitting on the couch, eating the cold steak you cooked and drinking the third beer. Angel didn't answer any of your messages, nor your calls. So, after trying to contact him for almost one hour, you decided to have dinner alone.

Another night.

The desire to cry floods you with leaps and bounds, grabbing the last piece from the fork in a bad mood before leaving the dish on the table and drinking your beer till it's empty. You fall asleep on the sofa some minutes after with your eyes filled with tears.

Although the door closes silently, you open your eyes getting up, stretching once you sit up. Angel looks like shit, tired and upset with his hair made a mess. Noticing sideways that the sun is almost shining, you don't say anything when he's about to apologize. Leaving him alone with the word in his mouth. You don't even pick up dinner stuff, going back to bed and throwing away the shirt you're on to wear yours. Covering your head with the blankets, you can hear Angel's heavy steps following to the bathroom to get locked in. The water running down the shower.

A fist hitting the marble.

And finally, a weary snort when the mattress sinks a little next to you.

“I was arrested.”

No words from you. He knows you're awake. Once your eyes are opened, it's impossible for you to fall asleep again.

“I really wanted to spend last night with you, mi amor.”

Nothing.

You don't even move.

“I'm so sorry.”

You try to get up, pulling away the blankets tired of hearing bullshit. Not understanding why he just doesn't tell you it's all over, assuming he doesn't because he hates loneliness and no matter how much he despises you, that you're going to come back once and again like a beaten dog faithful to its master. He never was like that, he just changed from nothing. From being the loveliest man to a ghost in your life. Angel grabs your wrist, stopping you from leaving him alone, but you can't look at his face.

You can't fall again.

“Stay, please.”

“I needed you to stay a lot of times, and you weren't even here.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, you already said that.”

With a heavy snort being spitted by your lips, you sit on the edge of the bed rubbing your face with both hands. Getting up and holding your phone in a hand, you guide your feet to the door looking for some coffee in the kitchen, to serve it inside a big mug.

“Emily is back and I am just trying to save EZ's ass. I didn't see I was abandoning you.”

Sounds like an explanation, but you don't really care. This hole between you two isn't going to get closed with some apologies and some kisses. He's going to have to make it up to you.

Hard.

“And when I’m saying I’m sorry, it's because I'm really sorry (Y/N).” He takes three steps closer towards you, with his hands keeping down inside the pockets of his short sweatpants. “I fucking love you. Nothing and nobody could change that. I swear on my mom.”

You have a sip of your coffee, closing your eyes when he names his mother for the first time in that way.

“Listen, I got to be back at the scrapyard in four hours. But this afternoon we're gonna go to a place.”

“Which place?”

“You'll see. And I know you're gonna like it.”

“But?”

There's always a ‘but’.

“But first I have to pick up a buddy, I promise him that he could stay with us”.

“What the fuck, Angel?!”

You're drowning in coughs, leaving the cup to hit your chest with a palm.

“(Y/N), trust me, okay? You will love him.”

“You're a fucking jerk.”

“Mi amor, listen.” He grabs your forearm, stopping you. “Trust me”.

“I can't fucking trust you. Not today. Not after telling me you were fucking arrested, and now telling me you're gonna bring a ‘buddy’ to our fucking house without asking me.”

“You're gonna regret those words this afternoon.”

“Yeah, but for that, you have to be here and you're not gonna come.”

Letting go yourself, you walk away from him. You can't believe this is truly happening, getting worse as the minutes go by.

Driving through the desert, you don't know where the hell you're going, hoping he's not bringing you to Vicki's place because one of the girls needs to hide. Even if he talked to you about a guy. Angel is giving you the directions you have to take, making your blood boil whenever you ask him about it and he just smirks at you with that kind of smile you would like to punch out.

And yes, it's a surprise when you reach Grace's kennel. Frowning at him as you stop your car, you try to keep calm.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Am I a fucking joke to you, Angel?”

“What?”

“I'm not gonna fucking bring a junkie to my house!”

“We're n— We're not he—”. He can't even talk, breaking into laughs stirring on his seat. “Step out of the car, mi amor.”

“No! You know what? We're fucking done! I can't! I can't handle it!”

You're getting so nervous you don't know what you are saying. Collapsing. Exploding. But seems like the oldest Reyes doesn't give a fuck if you are on the verge of an anxiety attack, when he takes off your seat belt before grabbing the keys of your car. Angel doesn't say anything, getting out of it and walking to your side. After opening your door, he holds your hand pushing you into him. And you just let him do what he wants with you.

“You ok?” Grace asks you somewhat confused and worried, looking at your pale face. Pursing your lips, you shrug your shoulders.

Seems like you're in shock, not understanding anything that is going on around you while your boyfriend guides your steps to the backyard of the kennel. You find a big black dog lying on the ground with a plastic cone covering his head from his neck and some bandages on his paws and his tail. Tail that he begins to move full of happiness walking with some difficulties close to Angel.

“See, buddy?! I told ya I was coming back for ya'!” Your boyfriend squats towards the dog to hug him, whilst the animal is crying a little, stirring and trying to lick his face.

“What? What's that?” You point at the dog with a finger.

“I was driving on my way back home, and I saw a fuckig shithead dragging him by the paws with a bike. I was arrested because he ended up unconscious”.

Pursing your lips, you can't help but cry slightly bending over the floor and stretching a hand on air, just wanting that he can smell you to see you don't want to hurt him. The dog brings his snout closer, sniffing your fingers for some seconds taking two steps next to you. His tail starts to move again, imagine that he's also smelling Angel's scent on your clothes.

“Hey, buddy. Nice to meet you”. Using a soft and low tone, the dog shortens the distance licking your face without expecting. That makes you laugh loudly.

“I know you feel alone when I’m riding and he doesn't have a home.” Angel says, waiting for you to finish spinning the matter by yourself. “See? I knew you were gonna regret your words.”

“Ugh, shut up.” You growl, drawing a smile to your new friend with his head rested on your chest, as you caress one of his sides.

“Is he okay?” Your boyfriend asks Grace, getting up as he does, being followed by the dog.

The women nods.

“He's strong. But I'll give you some pills for pain, in case he complains. And you should change the bandages every day. Bring him back next week and I'll check him.”

“Done. How much do I own you, sweetheart?”

“Nothing. Just take him to his new home.”

“Thank you, Grace.” You say before hugging her tightly.

“Call me if you need anything, okay?” She said then, nodding at her.

“So, what's his name?” You ask Angel, walking back to the car with the dog practically glued to your legs.

“Caco”. He answers holding your hand, leaving a kiss on the back of it.

“So, I'm assuming the place where we’re going next is a pet shop, to buy him a lot of things.”

“Shit, mi amor, I got fucking horny every time you show me how smart you are.”

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes

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bisluthq · 3 years ago

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If anyone wants a good read, I would say that Miles Teller’s profile is as chaotic and messy as Tom’s. And I don’t throw that without meaning it because we all know his pasta and fighting for love at 5 A.M. are very iconic pieces of gossip history. You can tell the reporter is so fed up with him and she is constantly dragging him, and it includes highlights like:

You're sitting across from Miles Teller at the Luminary restaurant in Atlanta and trying to figure out if he's a dick. You've just told him, by way of making conversation, that according to legend the champagne coupe in your hand is shaped like Marie Antoinette's left breast, and he tells you the highball glass is modeled after his cock. Then he tells the waitress the same thing.

He recounts a direct message he—a twenty-eight-year-old actor still trying to find his place in his profession—sent to five-time NBA champion Kobe Bryant through Twitter: Kobe, watched your Showtime documentary. Really related to what you're talking about and striving for greatness and how it can oftentimes be an isolated journey, and how relationships can be a weakness in a way, if you're really kind of going after it. He says he wants to contribute to the body of great acting in the world, to the . . . shit, he can't find the term—cache? catalog? canon? Whatever, you know what he means. He thinks he has something to offer.

After the waitress leaves, shrugging off his comment about the highball glass, you ask him about his hair. He's brought up how nice it is in more than one interview. It's a little defensive, like maybe he's making up for not being the best-looking, or sometimes even the third-best-looking, guy in any given movie he's in. "I was thinking about that today, how I probably think I'm better-looking than the public thinks I am," he says with a laugh, like it's funny that he's willed himself into a higher tier of male beauty through limitless confidence. "I was in one of these forums about a film I did, and it's like, 'This dude is so ugly! How does he get fucking parts?' 'Well, he's not, like, traditionally handsome, but . . .' And that's kind of what it is. Maybe it's because I came from a small town, but I always did well for myself."

It gets better:

He's appealingly attainable, a good-looking guy who shouldn't know he's good-looking, who should believe the commenters, except that he dates a twenty-two-year-old model/aspiring swimsuit designer/professional girlfriend who thinks Teller is attractive enough to have permanently monogrammed her perfect ass with his initials.

My personal favorite:

The waitress delivers the entrées, scallops for him and pork belly for you. The pork looks great and you offer him some. "I'll take a little bit," he says, sawing at it. Then: "I can't cut this." You have to cut his meat for him, a man who ten minutes earlier showed you an iPhone photo of his back muscles to prove how strong he is. He wants you to cut it small. "I don't have back teeth. I literally have four teeth." Not true. He's right, though, this pork belly is really hard to cut. But still. "What are you, bullying me now?" he says. His goading is a habit, compulsive, almost athletic. "I didn't know they fucking put marble on top of their pork belly."

He goes into an animated rant about Leo and Bradley and Jake Gyllenhaal and Vince Vaughn, and how it's almost impossible to win an Academy Award as a man under thirty, and Tom Hanks, and Ryan Gosling, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Jeff Bridges, Dustin Hoffman. "But if I'm really homing in on the dramatic performance right now, it's probably Christian Bale or it's Joaq." Oh, for fuck's sake. Joaq? “I just said Joaq. Joaquin Phoenix. I don't know him, but my publicist has repped him since he was, like, seventeen. She repped River, too. So I just hear his name."

And also because, well, now he's famous. Despite his penchant for light confrontation, he knows he's always being watched now. A bunch of people in the restaurant looked a second longer than normal when he walked in. He's recognized every day, he says. "I don't give a shit," he says, tough guy. You wonder how much he really doesn't give a shit. Because it kind of seems like no one gives more of a shit about what he does. Enough that, yeah, he has to be kind of a dick about it. How can you not like that?

This. Is. Everything.

Every fucking Pulitzer ever for this reporter.

#nat talks celeb gossip

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trojc-rewrite · 4 years ago

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The Rise of Jimmy Casket Rewrite, Chapter 2

Warning - Blood

———————————————————

After the agreement at Dunkin, the group left later that night. Toast drove, Colon in the passenger seat, while Spooker played music from the back. Mostly indie with the occasional rap song. But as the day got darker, the three grew more and more tired.

Toast checked the clock on the dash, 12:01 AM. His entire body was stiff and his eyes felt heavy. He looked around, seeing the tall pine forest loom around them for miles. He didn’t feel like pulling over and resting for the night would be a good idea.

“There might be bears, or raccoons.” Spooker said.

Colon gave him a confused look, “But you like raccoons.” He pointed out.

Spooker retorted. “NOT IN THE CAR!”.

Toast gave them both a tired look and they both shifted away. “I think I saw a motel sign a few miles ago, it might be up ahead.”

They drove for a few more miles until they spotted it. It was a run down place not too far away from town. It was old and browned, but you could tell it used to be an off-white color. A sign that once was a light up sign was now broken with one fizzling bulb. Broken stairs climbed the sides of the building, several steps rotting and mold covered. But, it would have to do for now.

Toast booked a room and the three shuffled into the small place. The inside looked about just as bad as the outside. With a pull out cot in the living room, a love seat, and a small kitchen with a stove that looked like it hadn't been used in years. Everything had a weird acrid smell to it, like it was damp. “The wonders of mold!” Colon had joked.

Toast decided to take the love seat with stiff, hardened cushions and let Colon and Spooker take the cot, which looked like a new king size mattress compared to the love seat, which made crunching sounds when you shifted on it.

Toast sighed, and stared at the ceiling while Colon and Spooker chatted. His anxious brain whispered to itself, making him upset, “Is this really worth it? Do Spooker and Colon think I'm the world's biggest idiot? I wouldn’t blame them if they did, I’m making them go on a goose chase for one of my stupid hunches.”

He turned over on the rough love seat and stared at his phone screen, no calls from Ghost. Not even a text. Toast blinked tiredly; why did his eyes sting? Ghost did say he wasn’t sure if he was going to come back, and he obviously didn’t want to be around him or the rest of the P.I.E gang.

“I failed him.” Toast thought sadly. He put down his phone, blinking away his tears. Why was he crying? Toast shifted his gaze to his golden wedding ring that stayed on his necklace. He delicately picked it up, reading the inside of it. “Till death do us part.” Toast could almost taste the irony.

He took a deep breath. He had had enough of having pitiful thoughts today. He took off his necklace and set it down beside his phone. Before closing his eyes, Toast watched as Spooker showed Colon a funny video on his phone. The two laughed and smiled, genuinely happy. Toast couldn’t help but smile at that. At least not everything about this “vacation “ was horrible. It made Toast happy when they were happy.

He closed his eyes, inviting the dark to consume him.

————————————————————————

Toast was in a white void, it smelled like freshly fallen snow. It was refreshing to his senses, not having to look at ugly greens and muddy browns like the inside of the motel.

He looked around, “Hello?”, he called out. A soft breeze flew over him, ruffling his hair. He then heard a familiar voice call out to him.

“Johnny?” A soft voice returned. Toast’s heart leaped in his chest, the voice both seemed to calm him and send him into a frenzy. What a weird effect.

He ran towards the voice, his shoes made a tapping sound on the floor, like high heels on marble. “Mary?!” He cried out.

His late wife’s figure became more visible as he approached, she materialized from the white. Her curly brown hair bounced off her shoulders as it did when she was living. Her soft hazel eyes gazed warmly at him. The breeze made the rim of her long red dress wave in the wind. Toast crashed into her, breathing in her familiar, yet forgotten scent.

“Johnny, it’s been a while.” She murmured to him, smoothing his hair. Toast fought the tears that welled in his eyes, but it was no use. He let out an ugly sob, which shook his entire body. Mary gave him a sympathetic smile, her own eyes filled with tears.

“You’ve come a long way since we last hugged.” She said, still combing her hand through his hair. “I miss you, my love. But I’ve come to warn you, and I’m afraid that I cannot stay for much longer.”

Toast looked up at her, her hazel eyes filled with a fierce love. He then heard yet another familiar voice through the misty white.

“Johnny!” Toast turned to see the outline of his friend. Ghost. Toast's eyes widened and he reached out for him.

“He’s not really here, I’m afraid. Just the powers of this realm making him appear here.” Mary said, taking his hand in hers.

“But that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Johnny.” She turned him towards her again. She took both of his hands and looked at him.

“Is, is he okay?” Toast asked, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. She nodded.

“If you mean is he alive, yes. But there’s more to worry about than if he’s alive.”

She turned serious, her hazel eyes boring into him with desperation.

“Protect your friends, Johnny. You are all in great danger.” She said. Mary’s figure became more distorted and transparent, but Toast didn’t want to let go of her.

“No, Mary. Please don’t leave me alone!” He cried out, still holding onto the fuzzy static of her hands. Mary’s hazy face smiled.

“Oh my love, I’m always with you.” She whispered. And then, with a gust of wind, she was gone. Leaving Johnny alone.

A sob choked Toast, getting stuck in his throat. He bent down onto his knees and sobbed, his black hairs falling in front of his eyes. He stayed there for a while, sobbing out.

And then a smokey scent filled the air, washing over him like a toxic blanket. He looked up from his hands.

A winged figure stood yards away from him, long black hair waving in the wind. Four wings sprouted from it’s back, feathers dancing. It’s face was also guarded with tinier wings, moth's wings creating eyes. It stared at him. Toast felt vaguely threatened by it.

He got up shakily, walking towards it cautiously. As he approached, ringing filled his ears. And then his dream exploded into fire and black, shattering like glass.

Toast lurked upwards, panic filling his chest. The smell of smoke filled his lungs and he looked around. Colon and Spookers' horrified faces filled his vision, Colon's hands were around his shoulders shaking him.

“Toast we have to go! Come one get up!” He yelled. The room felt hot, making them all sweat.

“What’s going on? What happened!” Toast asked, getting up. He grabbed his wedding ring and phone and put them away on himself.

“The building’s on fire! C’mon we have to go!” Colon yelled, fear filling his voice.

A large pillar fell into the room, slamming on the floor. Flames engulfed it, reaching the cot and setting it ablaze. Orange and red danced in Toast’s vision.

The floor cracked under everything's weight. “I saw a fire exit down the hall when we got to this room! That’s our exit, let’s go!” Toast felt his anxieties in his brain but forced them down. Now was not the time to be having second thoughts.

The blistering flames grew and ignited around them, smoke filling the room. Spooker coughed, shaking his head.

The floor made a loud crack sound, and the large pillar sunk through the wood. A hole grew in the floor, the wood blackened at the edges.

Toast leaped over the hole, dodging the flames that licked and jumped at his legs. Sweat and smoke filled around him. He could barely see, feeling light headed. He reached out for Spookers hand.

“Come on Spooker!” Toast yelled. Flames roared like lions around them, screaming and wailing in Toast's ears. Colon nodded to Spooker, hesitantly, the young red head reached for his hand and jumped. Toast grabbed his hand and pulled him over. Spooker tumbled awkwardly onto the planks and reached the door. Toast ushered him out into the hallway, then turned to Colon.

The hole in the floor was wider, hot air and tiny flames growing from it. It gaped at him, taunting him. One mistake and his friend would be dead, falling into a pit of embers and coals. Toast shook his head, he wouldn’t let that happen.

The smoke was strangling him, making him cough and search for any clean air. He reached out his hand. Colon narrowed his eyes and got ready to jump.

Then, with the speed of a snake, a flaming piece of wood swung from the ceiling at Colon. His friend tried to swerve away from it but it floundered his jump. He landed on the crumbling wood, hanging over the pit opening below them. Panic surged through Toast and he bent down.

Toast hauled him up, the cloth of his friends shirt was rough and hot. Another piece of wood struck out angrily from the wall as it crumbled. “Colon, look out!” Toast cried, and pushed his friend out of the way.

The flaming wood dug straight into his leg, going into it like a knife through meat. Toast cried as the splintered wood buried into his flesh, awkwardly hanging out of his skin.

Colon looked at him horrified, but Toast limped out. Cinders spat at them, like the flames were cursing them. The two ran to the fire escape while Spooker waited by the door, looking anxious. The youngest swung open the door, and the three ran down the crumbling stairs. They ran to the street, and Toast’s leg couldn't handle the weight of himself anymore.

He fell down the cracked cement, scraping his knees on the jutting rocks. Pain surged through him again. “If they don’t use our taxes for fixing these damn streets then what do they use them for?” He cursed angrily about the road's condition. Spooker and Colon lifted him up and dragged him across the road, lying him down on the soft wet grass.

The three breathed heavily, watching as other civilians ran out in different directions. Toast's leg burned, begging for the wood to be removed from his flesh. The oldest coughed, wheezing for the night air.

He sat upwards, studying the injury. It was buried half way into his skin, blood seeping through his clothes. The wood was blackened and damaged, splinters hanging off of the sides where it had split from the wall. It hadn’t hit any bone or anything, but he knew he needed stitches.

He tried to block out the fire and calm down. His adrenaline rushed through his veins, screaming for his body to move. But he took a few deep breaths, the fire was starting to dissipate anyways, flickering still but weaker. “We’re okay. Colon and Spooker are okay. And Ghost probably is too. Everyone is okay.” He thought.

He bit his lip and took the fractured wood in his fingers, and began wiggling it out of the wound. His arms felt weak, and he grit his teeth. For what felt like a gruesome forever, he finally got it out.

Spooker and Colon watched as he took the piece of jagged wood and threw it into the street. It thudded on the broken cement, his blood splattering under it. Now, Toast needed a way to stop the bleeding.

“Guys, do me a favor and rip off one of my sleeves, please.” He said through gritted teeth. Spooker leaned over and ripped off the white sleeve on his button up. Then, handed it to his boss. Toast tried his best to smile at him, but the pain in his leg was too great. His eyes were welled with tears, and there wasn’t a doubt in Toast’s mind that he was crying.

He tied the white cloth around his leg, trying to slow blood flow. The red fluid stained his sleeve. It wasn’t great by any means, but it was better than nothing.

They stayed there for what seemed like forever, watching fire trucks put out the fire. No paramedics were in sight however, which wasn’t good. Toast would just need to power through until the morning.

The three stayed silent, staring at the rising smoke in the sky.

“Watch us survive all this and then we can’t even find Ghost.” Colon joked. Toast weakly laughed, feeling tired.

Spooker and Colon turned to him. “Thanks for not letting us die back there.” Colon said. Toast nodded, the pain in his leg starting to ebb away.

“No problem, that’s what good friends do.” Toast said. His eyes felt heavy, begging him for sleep. Toast gave into it, sighing.

Colon and Spooker watched him silently as he closed his eyes, their concern hanging in the air.

“Ghost, please be out there.” Toast silently thought, before falling asleep.

——————————————————————————

Whips and nae naes!!! Longest chapter!!!

Hope yall enjoyed! Next chapter will be out soon!

#p.i.e #paranormal investigators extraordinaire #venturiantale #johnny ghost #johnny toast #fred spooker #colon ghostie #mary toast #jimmy casket

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fletchphoenix · 4 years ago

Text

He’s Helpless

so i saw @betrayedtraitor ‘s post about Donella being the ultimate mom at the varigo wedding and couldn’t resist writing some supportive Donella :)) enjoy! I’ll try to link the OG post but ya!

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Donella was happy.

Sure, Hugo had fucked up royally and betrayed her in order to help his boyfriend open the Eternal Library and, consequently, get possessed by her old partner, but he had found his happiness. She wasn’t one for sappy shit like soulmates or changing yourself at the last minute for the one you loved in order to make them happy - she used to despise it and think it was some bullshit trope for lonely people to indulge in, but somehow her son had well and truly proved her wrong.

She’d trained him up since he was a child to be the exact model of what she was - a thief. She taught him how to defend himself from attackers if he had to, how to steal and remove any trace that he was ever there, hell, she’d even trained him that the world was cruel and unforgiving, and that any hope you had would be crushed in an instant. She taught him love was simply something that people used to build you up and make you think you had purpose before they revoked it almost immediately. She really thought he’d accepted her ideals fully.

And then Varian came along.

Of course it would’ve been Ulla’s son to change her son’s mind. He’d inherited the moonstone blue, wide and curious eyes that his mother had, and her obsession with alchemy that she’d also passed on to her son. Maybe that’s why Hugo had gotten so attached to him, having someone so similar to his age and with the same interests, of course after years of having just Donella around him who was interested in alchemy, he’d instantly connect with someone else with that very interest.

It didn’t surprise her when Hugo had told her that he and Varian were together romantically. In fact, she had a bet going with Cyrus to see how long it was taken (which, by the way, she’d won, thank you very much) and supported the couple endlessly. They were adorable together, the pair clearly loving each other more than anything else in the universe and willing to do anything for each other.

What did surprise her was how long the proposal took. It took far too long for the pair to finally decide to propose, Donella was sure she’d turn to ash before they even decided to bring up the option to each other. So when it happened, needless to say she celebrated silently and tore into Hugo as though she were a starving animal and he was a piece of meat.

“I am very disappointed in you, Hugo. Very very disappointed.” She declared, pacing across the marble floor in the hallway, the heels of her boots clicking against it as her son gripped onto the hand of his now-fiance. They must’ve been scared, both boys shaking in each other’s arms before she turned her head to look at them. “I mean, really. You’re my son and you didn’t even propose first! I seriously can’t believe it! You seriously took so long that he had to take matters into his own hands!”

“Oh my g-Mom, you literally had me terrified!” Hugo complained as he leant forward, frowning at Donella and kissing Varian’s forehead as Varian cackled from laughter. Donella smiled softly and subtly as they held each other, nodding in approval towards her son-in-law before turning her back to them.

“All jokes aside, I really am happy for you two. I’m just disappointed it took you so long considering how many hours I’ve sat through you gushing about Varian and how he’s the ‘only person in the world for you’.” Hugo’s face flushed at that comment, his fiance smirking as Donella chuckled. “Anyway, get back to the party.” She ushered them back in with a smile before the widest grin in her life appeared on her face and she headed back in.

It was her proudest moment for her son to come to her for advice about her vows, though she’d never expected for his original draft to be so...long. She swore he’d been going on and on about the boy’s freckles for a whole month before finally moving on to something else. It was her fault - she’d tried and tried and tried to stop the boy from talking too much when he was a child, though it was a habit he never broke out of. He made a massive deal about a lot, and though it was useful in their previous line of work, they were good, (mostly) non-thieving people, and the need for an overbearing and..very weirdly specifically detailed explanation of something was no longer a necessity.

“You’ve been talking for 40 years about freckles, Hugo. Just-come here and let me show you how to do it.” she complained, leaning forward and taking a quill, dipping it generously in some ink before proceeding to examine the speech. Editing and crossing things out left,right and centre, she finally settled back with a sigh and looked at her son. “I know you love him, Hugo. I can tell. But seriously, some of this is just...not needed at all.”

“What do you mean?” the blonde asked cluelessly, sitting beside her and fixing his tie, “I think all of it is quite relevant.”

“You talked about how he snorts when he laughs and how many freckles he has, followed by a detailed description about their shapes, sizes and if they join together to make a constellation. That..it’s sweet but I felt like slamming my head into a wall and praying that it knocked me out completely for three days. Just...try something like this.” She began, picking up some parchment from the table and beginning to scribble down some notes, handing the sheet to her helpless son. “That can be your starting point.”

Hugo took a glance at the paper, cringing at the monotonous words on the page. “I...okay, these are truly something else. I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” He muttered, before something flashed over his face. “Oh ma. That reminds me. Me and V have been talking and uh..we wanted to know if you want to officiate the wedding. We thought you’d be the best pick for it so...what do you think?”

Donella’s heart soared at the prospect, though her face would never reveal the true extent of her emotions. Her son was really giving her the honour of officiating the wedding after everything that had happened between them. A tear must’ve welled in her eye, as Hugo’s face shifted into a frown. “Ma, are you okay? You..you don’t have to do it.”

Hesitantly, she pulled her son into a tight embrace, the boy seeming stunned before reciprocating the hug and holding onto her. “Yes-yes I’ll do that for you, Hugo. It would be an honour.” Donella declared, her face buried in her son’s shoulder as she let a few stray tears loose.

She was so proud of him when he read out his vows without a hitch, the abridged version of the original speech was marginally better thanks to meticulous planning from their combined efforts. “Are you crying, ma’am?” Cyrus questioned as her son stood hand in hand with his husband at the altar, their fingers intertwined and looking picture perfect, almost as though they were in a dream.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Cyrus.” the woman declared as she raised a tissue to dab at her eyes while the ceremony continued in front of her. Hugo’s eyes shone with pure joy, matching his husband’s gleeful expression as they finally exchanged rings and shared a kiss with each other. She could even hear their friends, notably the Queen, King, Star princess and Firecracker (as Hugo had declared them) cheering and laughing out loud as they finally tied the knot.

And though she would later deny it, she still indulged herself in a few glasses of wine and rambled on and on about how Hugo was as a child, despite his pleas and begs for her to stop. She couldn’t help it - she was a mother after all and she was sure Ulla would’ve done the same if she were here.

Still though, as she looked at her son and the way he shared his first dance with his husband, he knew the pair were destined to be together, and that fate truly did exist as well as soulmates and all that lovey dovey shit she had been so quick to deny prior to their meeting. So as Donella leant back against the body of her once-henchman Cyrus, whose other arm was wrapped around his wife, she accepted the fact that she was content with whatever the future had to hold for the pair.

Donella was happy.

#varian #varigo #tangled varian #varian tangled #tangled hugo #varian x hugo #hugo tangled #varian and the seven kingdoms #hugo x varian #rapunzels tangled adventure #tangled the series #tangled donella #donella tangled

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itsuki-minamy · 4 years ago

Text

“K - THE FIRST STORY”

CHAPTER 4: BLACK OR WHITE (Complete)

* K - The First Story (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

There is a system that has never been used in a formula. It would have been better if he hadn't used it, but now is the time to move it.

"All eyes and ears."

Awashima agreed with Munakata's instructions.

"Yes. If it can't be handled, we need eyes and ears. We have to handle it properly."

Munakata smiled at her, she is his right arm, who had a straight face and praised her as an evil executive.

"You are a wonderful person, Awashima-kun."

Munakata looks at the puzzle at hand.

The complete picture of the puzzle is visible. No matter what kind of puzzle it was, Munakata never wondered which piece to put where. What should be to where it should be. By doing that, messy things are put together in the right way. So Munakata enjoys the puzzle.

But now, the full picture of the incident Munakata is facing is not seen. Also, there is only one piece left in Munakata's hand for Suoh.

He picked up one of the Sansui painting puzzle pieces scattered on the office desk, and Munakata looked at it through the lens of his glasses.

++++++++++

Kusanagi received several report calls and made some instructional calls inside the HOMRA bar counter.

"Oh, Bando. Are you aware? Yes, then join Dewa and head to the location on the map that I just sent."

"That is the seller's hidden store."

"Oh. It's the one with the mobster who was in charge of the arms trade. It seems like he died about ten days before Totsuka was killed."

Kusanagi's words made Bando groan over the phone.

"So that damn guy killed him and Totsuka-san?"

"No, that's not the case. The vendor was used by the criminal and murdered... there is a good chance. And recently, there have been a number of other mysterious misconduct."

"Ah, I'm sure you suddenly heard those rumors. Strange urban legends have become popular, like the fact that there are criminal groups that hold people and sell them, and where they meet gods."

Bando suddenly makes a hasty voice.

"Kusanagi-san, do you think the criminal who killed Totsuka-san is involved in the disappearances?"

"The story is a possibility. At least, there is no doubt that the arms dealer who disappeared this time did come into contact with the criminal in some way. Anyway, check the dealer's hidden warehouse and look for clues."

"Understood! I'm heading there now!"

"Okay, be careful."

As soon as the call hangs up, the Kusanagi PDA announces a new call as if it were waiting for it. When he answered, it was Chitose, who is currently in charge of providing information and gathering information online.

According to his report, the video of the criminal on the network has already been removed and appeared to be treated as a naughty video. It seems that people's interests are turning in another direction after rumors that the murder video was fabricated and posted were stopped.

It would be the instruction for "Scepter 4". Kusanagi is impressed that the work is quite fast.

However, at the time, the video was viewed by many people in various parts of Tokyo, focusing on Shizume. Some of the videos themselves have been uploaded to the "Jungle" site. There should be a reaction in the future, as it can be a prize.

Kusanagi hung up when he said in a casual tone that there was no problem. He stared at his hand a bit, thinking that the PDA would start ringing, but it seemed that the PDA in his hand had finally decided to rest, and he remained silent.

Phew, he takes a little breath.

The situation is not good. Although the criminal appeared once, he disappeared again, and also...

"It's finally becoming a hassle to get to that fox."

Miwa Ichigen, the predecessor "Colorless King", said that he only had two clan members in his life.

One of them was born nearly ten years ago, and Kuro Yatogami was the only remaining vassal.

Since Miwa Ichigen basically lived a life as a retreat in the mountains, Yatogami Kuro rarely appeared in the village, but it is said that his power as a clan member and the dexterity of his arm and swordplay, which he has shown several times, that is perfectly maintained.

It would be difficult for Kusanagi to cross evenly when he suddenly appeared and saw how he was treating Yata like a child.

However, he heard that he would not use any other power other than for Miwa. That is why it bears the name "black dog" with the meaning of loyal black dog.

He wonders if Kuro will move with the will of Miwa, who died, or something like that. After dying, serve the next "Colorless King"? Either way, it must be a hindrance for them.

"Uh, I don't have much time."

Anna, who was sitting at the table in the tent, turned to Kusanagi in response to the words that had come out of his mouth.

Anna spread the map on the table, rolled a marble on it, and continued searching for the criminal with her sensitive skill. Kusanagi laughs at Anna inadvertently, acknowledging that he has cut off his focus and probably worried Anna.

At that moment, the door of the bar opened with a loud noise.

"Gah! Yata-san!"

"Sorry! You said something stupid!"

Kamamoto and Yata rushed into the bar as they broke into a fuss. Yata, in the form of bright red rage, hurls Kamamoto's plump giant.

A large body flew into the air towards Kusanagi, hitting the counter.

It was unfortunate because the quality of Yata's small body, Kamamoto's heavy weight, and his stone-hard head were all combined.

Kusanagi's beloved bar counter is chipped by a head shove similar to a Kamamoto missile. Kusanagi screamed.

Yata attacks Kamamoto, leaving behind the broken counter. Kusanagi moaned low, "Guys..." while shaking.

He grabs the head of the slowly moving person who hurt his beloved counter with his right hand and the other with his left hand, and squeezes them mercilessly.

"Sorry it was not my intention!"

"Kusanagi-san! It will seriously break! My head will break!"

"Huh? Guys, what is this counter? It's expensive because a British pub gave it to us. It's a historic gem drenched in the scent of beer and cigarettes, and the hustle and bustle of drunkenness."

With both of them screaming and hanging from their hands, they scream and preach the weight of their sins.

"What is the cause of this fight, guys?"

Looking into his eyes, Yata complained as he hovered.

"It's because of Mikoto-san!"

"What is Mikoto-san doing?"

"This guy said that Mikoto-san gave up on the blues! Kusanagi-san, you should also punish him!"

"Oh, no! No! I wonder why our king was captured without any resistance!"

"Hey! Isn't that a turning point?"

"It's totally different!"

That's it.

The appearance of the two people making noise is like a fight of elementary school students, but it is not clear how they feel.

Kamamoto's doubts are natural, and although they are not mentioned, many of the "Homura" members are probably thinking. Yata himself, who is angry with him, must have the same anxiety and doubts.

Suoh must have an idea, and since he told himself that he shouldn't hesitate, he was so angry at Kamamoto that he raised his doubts about Suoh.

Kusanagi laughed a bit guiltily, saying they were too honest, and then deliberately laughed out loud.

He lets go of the two surprised heads, hugs them and whispers in the ear.

"Do you want to know?"

"Eh?"

"Why was Mikoto-san caught on purpose?"

Yata was confused and said "Yes."

Alright, Kusanagi released them from his arms and made them "repent" on the counter that they had hurt, so that they could first reflect on them.

Kusanagi was pleased with the appearance of the two people bowing his head towards the counter in silence, in the atmosphere of a completely scolded elementary school student, and decided to take a seat.

"Well, that guy is kept as that natural disaster all the time. In some cases, the 'Blue King' must be clear about it. What if that happens? Will it make it easier for us to move? He got caught to free us."

He can see Yata's face bright and clear. Seeing the expression, which seemed overwhelmed by anger, anxiety and dissatisfaction, repainted with joy and pride, the guilt ends in Kusanagi again.

Yata stretched out his chest, smiled boyishly, and shook Kamamoto's shoulders.

"Hey, you said that! I'm going to find that rotten outer path and the fox again! I'll live up to Mikoto-san's expectations!"

Yata, who is completely fine, urges Kamamoto to leave the bar.

Kusanagi encouraged him slightly, saying, "I charge you, Yata-chan."

When Yata and Kamamoto noisily exit, the bar fills with suffocating quiet.

"Liar."

Anna said that like a slap. Kusanagi smiles bitterly at her painful words who silently heard the exchange between Kusanagi and Yata.

"Well I'm not saying… there are some aspects like that."

The words he just said to Yata and others are not lies. However, for that reason alone, Suoh would not have chosen a way to chain Munakata.

Kusanagi glances at Anna. Anna looked at the map in front of her with a doll face.

++++++++++

Inside the lunch box, alongside the white rice, the colorful and well-balanced garnishes are well packaged. The boy thinks it's like being full of "happiness".

The boy loves it because it looks like the treasure chest with an unbalanced brown lunch that is filled with "special" items like meat and fried foods that are always blessed with recommended side dishes. However, he was impressed by the desperate lunch that Kuro prepared as a harmonious world.

From the lunch box, the boy takes a plump, beautiful yellow egg with chopsticks and puts it in his mouth. The sweetness spread through his mouth. He asked Kuro to do it yesterday, the rolled egg was delicious too, but the sweet flavored egg grill is good too.

While trying with a smile, he heard a clear voice next to him.

"Shiro has his own lunch with side dishes!"

Kukuri opened her eyes and looked towards the shrine that surrounded the lunch box with Kuro and Neko in the coffee shop. For whatever reason, he have two lunches on his hands.

He decided to advance through school with his own face, saying he was a "transfer student."

This school is located on an island, isolated from the outside, and basically he cannot enter the site without a pass. However, probably because they were relieved by safety, the people on the school island were enthusiastic about the safety aspect. Even the seemingly suspicious Kuro and Neko are accepted as "I'm a school person because I'm here with a natural face."

By the way, he managed to calm down Neko, who doesn't like clothes, and put her in the Ashinaka school girls uniform (when the boy praised Neko in uniform like "cute!) However, Kuro is still in his uniform. Also, even though he had a sword on his waist, the people around him naturally accepted Kuro's existence, probably because the boy was with him.

Kukuri looked at the contents of the boy's lunch box with a surprised look, and the boy put his hand on his cheek.

"This time it is my beloved wife's lunch."

"If you just say stupid things, I'll stick my tongue out at you."

Kuro draws his sword threatening to cut off the boy's tongue.

As for Neko, he has already eaten Kuro's lunch, and she looks at Kukuri's lunch and makes a voice that waits, "Are you hungry?" Kukuri opened the lunch box and asked, "Do you want to eat?" She opened the lunch box, but for some reason there was no main food, such as fried or roasted salmon, and various kinds of vegetable side dishes such as slow-cooked dishes, salads, and hot vegetables were packed in the lunch box. She wonders if she is on a diet.

Despite the interaction between Kukuri and Neko, the boy looks towards a PDA.

"Oh, what's up? It's different from the school's designated PDA."

Kukuri said, paying attention to the boy's PDA.

The boy's PDA has disappeared, therefore he borrows Kuro's. By the way, a handmade plush doll hangs from Kuro's PDA. When he told him that he thought it was a hobby that did not suit his face, it seems that it is a doll that he made himself, imitating the appearance of Miwa Ichigen, and from there he began to sigh the story of how wonderful Ichigen was. So sorry to ask. Frankly speaking, Kuro's emotion when he talks about "Ichigen" is very disgusting.

The boy squeezed Kuro's PDA and made another comment.

"It's from my wife."

"Do you really want to separate yourself from your tongue?"

Kuro draws his sword again threatening to cut off his tongue. He's not sure if he's unexpectedly good or if he's really mad, because he can't even pull a joke, but his reaction when he hit him is a bit funny.

After a little tantrum, Kuro regains his mind and turns to the boy looking at the PDA.

"Did you find out something?"

"No, it is an unclear image..."

What the boy sees on Kuro's PDA is that video of a person, who looks exactly like the boy, killing a person.

This was transferred from his classmate Mishina. He said he found this video on a website. With the curiosity and drive of a healthy high school boy, Mishina is good at watching erotic videos and images, avoiding the security restrictions placed on school-designated PDAs. Some of his classmates also have part of the videos that Mishina found. Yesterday, Mishina intercepted the boy in an uncrowded corridor and told him a secret story: "I found a bad video yesterday."

Although the boy does not have a young and perky sex drive like Mishina, he looks at Mishina's PDA with the feeling of "Well, if he wants to show it, I can't wait to see it." But, it was not an erotic video.

It is the video of a murder that was shown on a huge monitor in Shizume.

However, Mishina believed that this video was false. It seems to be treated like a naughty video even on the net. However, the criminal's face looked exactly like the boy, so he became interesting and came to show him.

Mishina laughed mockingly, saying, "If you did something wrong, should you be selfish?"

In fact, the boy cannot tell if it is a fake video. But if the person was actually killed and this was false, it would probably mean that the real criminal had redesigned the footage to replace himself with the boy. However, this video was taken by the murderer himself, and from what the video looks like, it appears that it was taken with a retro camera rather than a PDA. The video itself is also owned by "Homura", whose partner is the murdered person. Could the criminal have tampered with the video? If that is not possible, is it the crime of a person with the appearance of the boy? Is that possible?

The doubts have no end, but what the boy must do is not pursue the truth, but prove his innocence.

The boy never does. The boy who lives in the dormitory has rarely left Gakuenjima except to run errands these days.

The boy looks at the picture. It says "12.07 23:45". It's been a week. Of course, the boy does not remember leaving Gakuenjima at that time.

"Are you seeing it multiple times?"

Kukuri looks mysteriously at the boy's hands.

"Hmm, this is a mysterious video delivered by Mishina."

"Eh, Mishina-kun?"

Kukuri overreacted to Mishina's name. The cheeks are slightly tinted red. The boy suddenly remembered the incident that would save himself at Kukuri's appearance.

++++++++++

Fushimi snorted as he watched the scenes projected on the many monitors in the information room.

Each image in each location is displayed one after another on the monitor. Not only the city's surveillance cameras were collected and analyzed, but also all kinds of data such as personal camera images of PDAs and the content of private communications.

Knowledge of the system. As long as the system is up and running, there will be no privacy for the people of this country.

It was a system that prioritized investigations into people's human rights, which could be triggered by the special "Real Level" information disclosure request issued only in emergencies where an undetermined number of lives are in danger. Since the approval of the activation also requires the permission of the Prime Minister, the order of the "Golden King" Kokujoji Daikaku has also been obtained.

He doesn’t want to activate it to find a child.

Fushimi was alone in his heart and ironically distorted his mouth while looking at the private lives of strangers.

"It is quite a masterpiece."

"Help me if you have free time."

Awashima takes Fushimi's words as dislike without raising her eyebrows.

"I am not free."

Fushimi looks back at his desk and slides his finger over the keyboard.

On Fushimi's desk monitor, there was a video of the murder posted by "Homura." A bullet was fired into the roof of the Hirasaka building, in the Western District, at 11:45 p.m. on December 7.

Tatara Totsuka was not good for Fushimi. When he was in "Homura", even if he showed that he didn't like that Fushimi didn't get used to it, he didn't care and felt like he would stop him and see through the line that he really didn't want to step on. He saw it with his eyes. It was not good for those eyes.

He was a man of the opposite nature to Fushimi, and he always laughed with a face that everything he saw was funny.

"Totsuka-san, you are dead."

A whisper came from Fushimi's mouth.

Fushimi stared at the image of the man whose face was always smiling, falling on the concrete without force.

Suddenly something happened. Akiyama, who was doing the compilation work, called out to Awashima in a whispering voice, "Lieutenant Awashima!" The voice turned the eyes of everyone in the briefing room towards Akiyama.

There was a child on the monitor that Akiyama showed. The facial recognition matches the criminal boy that Fushimi just confirmed. Fushimi's expression also tightened slightly.

"Do you know where he is going?"

"Yes, please wait a moment."

Akiyama immediately responds to Awashima's question and runs his finger across the keyboard. Review the points on the web in chronological order. He was at the foot of a bridge where he is captured by Shizume's surveillance camera, an ordinary PDA camera trying to capture the confusion caused by "Homura's" people, and finally the boy.

A connecting bridge that spans from Tokyo Bay and leads to an artificial island. The boy goes over the bridge and enters the island. That was the last appearance of the boy found by "Yuishiki" (Wisdom).

Awashima looks at the map of the place where the boy was last seen.

"The Ashinaka school island?"

It is a gigantic school that is very independent and does not allow outsiders to enter easily, partly because the whole island is one site.

He hears Awashima mutter under her breath, saying it was troublesome.

++++++++++

Anna finally did.

Yata was running. Anger and fighting spirit burn the flames of the body. From that day on, he couldn't find a place to hit and was swirling in his stomach, turning Yata into a fiery bullet with the target he should be heading for now.

A motorcycle gets next to him and they run side by side, they seem to fly in the landscape around them. There was a huge body that he knew on the motorcycle.

"Yata-san! What's wrong?"

"Oh, Kamamoto! Very good, you are coming too!"

"Where you go?! What happened?!"

Yata looked down the road and told him to sharpen his eyes and growl.

"We're going to the school island."

"Gakuenjima? The school island in Tokyo Bay?"

"Just a moment ago, Anna's skill finally found out where it was!"

Kamamoto took a deep breath.

Anna is a member of the "Homura" clan, but has more power as a Strain than the power of fire. She has always been searching for the criminal's whereabouts with her sensitive ability.

It finally showed results.

Yata remembers the bar just before. Anna spread the map on the table and stared at the many red marbles rolling on it. Its responsiveness detects the criminal's signal, and the marbles move and gather towards a point on the map. Beneath the bright red marble is an artificial island in Tokyo Bay.

“Here.”, Anna's transparent voice said like a decree. The criminal is there.

Yata holds his hand tightly in his fist. That night, it was a hand holding a bloody body. This hand knows the cold body that fell on the rooftop in the middle of the night and the warmth of the blood that was spilled.

Yata gritted his back teeth tightly and said, "Kamamoto, take me." He put his hand on Kamamoto's shoulder and jumped into the back seat without slowing the skateboard propelled by his skill. At the same time, he kicked the skateboard and lift it to catch it in the air.

"Speed it up! I'm going to Gakuenjima to kill that damn guy!"

"Hey!"

Kamamoto twists the throttle grip to accelerate the motorcycle. Grasping Kamamoto's thick back, Yata puts his strength into his arm holding the skateboard.

"Wait, you fucking bastard!", he whispers into his mouth.

++++++++++

In the locker room, which was simply installed by pulling a curtain in the classroom, the boy dressed in a khaki kimono and looked at the borrowed PDA. The video plays on the PDA.

“The date shown in that video that was shown in the city was at 11:45 p.m. on December 7th. Given the distance between the school and the crime scene, it is not possible to move in an hour."

"And so..."

Kuro was also dressed in Japanese clothes. With a short sleeve and a hakama, the original long black hair hairstyle collected and the sword attached to the waist match, and it looks like a samurai.

The boy wears a yellow garment over a khaki kimono. It's a hand-sewn costume for a female student, but it's pretty cool.

"Yes. If it is proven that I was at school around 11:45 PM on the 7th, my alibi will be established."

"But you're in a single room. If you slept alone in the room, it wouldn't be an alibi."

Kuro turned his eyes to Neko. Neko also wears kimono. Although she was wearing it, she didn't seem to know how to wear the kimono, so he could see the white skin with the front wide open.

Neither the boy nor Kuro did not change their complexion because they got used to seeing Neko naked. Perhaps he couldn't see Neko playing with the obi in her hand, and when she approached him, he wrapped the obi around Neko's body with one hand as if he was gathering an old newspaper.

"I'm telling you! I don't accept this testimony as an alibi!"

"Kurosuke, you are stupid! Shiro has been with me since I met him! Wagahai's Shiro is a good Shiro!"

"Shut up. You're saying you don't trust me. If I find out you were responsible for this, don't worry. I'll be prepared."

The boy opened his mouth sweetly, looking at Kuro and Neko as if they were really like a dog and a cat.

"Well, it's my fault. That day was the day that preparations for the cultural festival were allowed at night, and as I recalled earlier, it was a day where there were many incidents."

"Incidents?"

The boy trusted the mysterious Kuro.

"So there must be someone who can prove that I was there too."

The boy used a bird hat to finish. A beard is also attached to the mouth.

"Hmm! How many times do you change your clothes while chatting!"

Feeling free to open the curtains on the simple wardrobe, Kukuri stuck her face inside.

"Oh, it looks good! Shiro-kun, you are a valuable person to look good like Ebisu-sama even if you are not fat at all."

The boy, Kuro, and Neko were forced to try on the costumes they would wear to the main event of the school festival. On the night of the school festival, they will wear these costumes, carry a sword and pull a horse to parade to the shrine behind the school.

The Ashinaka school school festival has a mysterious flavor, in part because it overlaps with the annual shrine festival.

Kukuri was in a good mood when she saw the three people wearing costumes, and while saying to Neko, "Wagahai-chan is a beautiful woman!" On the first day, Neko who hated wearing those clothes and had trouble with the boy's hands, was also happy to be told that she was a beautiful woman.

Well, the boy changed his expression.

He has been living at school almost normally for the past half day, but his life is involved. He has to ask someone to testify that he was at this school that day.

The boy saw Kikuri. The girl who started the confusion that night.

Yes, it started with a runaway boy who fell in love with her.

--- Testimony of the classmate, Sota Mishina.

Oh sure, it was around 11:45 PM on December 7th. There is no doubt that the preparations for the night of the school festival had just finished.

He climbed the stairs of the clock tower with the determination of a generation.

His heart was making a loud noise and his hands were sweaty and slimy. Still, he did not stop climbing the stairs. He is also a man. He will do what he has decided to do.

When he climbed to the top of the clock tower, he could see the view of Gakuenjima. Everyone is working hard to get ready for the school festival, which is coming up two weeks later, and the huge objects that he put in the yard look pretty good from the top, and the fire from the PDA that he plans to use at the night festival is beautiful.

He was thinking about that as he watched the situation below and was blown away by the cold midnight winter wind, he saw Yukizome coming. As a student council officer, she tells them to finish getting ready for the night. His reading that the last time she would come to the clock tower would be about 15 minutes before the date changed was correct.

Yukizome spoke a word or two with Inaba, who was pulling a rope, and came to the front of the clock tower. A moment before she tried to give instructions to everyone around her, he took a deep breath and yelled from the bottom of his stomach.

"Yukizome Kukuri-san! It's true love at first sight! Please go out with me!"

Everyone in the place fell silent and was looking towards the clock tower where he was.

Yukizome had the same lazy face as everyone else, but gradually her face turned red and she started to panic. It was cute, but she was so nervous that she was ashamed, so it wasn't the case.

After making a panicky movement, Yukizome turned to him and bent her head with force and bend her waist at a right angle.

"I'm sorry!"

He knew it. He was honestly thinking there was no pulse.

But he liked her for a long time, all year long. When he entered the school for the first time, he got lost because the school is big, Yukizome called him and accompanied him to his destination.

It's too big here, but she's so cute and kind, she was love at first sight. After that, she was nice to him.

Perhaps he misunderstood and thought she also liked him a bit. Yukizome is a kind person to everyone. He knew it wasn't just for him. Even so, he still wanted her to turn around. He wanted to hold her hand and dance together at the festival that night.

The dream was shattered and he was slightly shocked and unconscious. He was sad because he was totally sorry, he was sorry for Yukizome, who shrugged with a bright red face and ran away, and was not surprised by the eyes around her. He cries and stumble back. A strange laugh escaped his mouth, although it was not strange.

What he saw was a mountain of fireworks that was scheduled to be launched from the top of the clock tower at the school festival.

Filled with sadness, shame and apology, he wanted to blow away those feelings that swirled in his chest, so he approached the fireworks with a quick movement and lit them.

"Another love has fallen!"

The fireworks went straight up the night sky and the light flowers bloomed in the black sky. It was a memorial service for his love. He is reflecting on that now.

"You mean, what is it? Why do you suddenly want to hear about my sad night?"

"Huh? You wanted to ask if I saw Shiro at the confession? Would you mind the details of the confession if you heard that?"

"Oh... I don't know!" He could only see Yukizome in his eyes.

"That's right. Mishina-kun, were you watching everyone from the clock tower? You must have seen his figure when you were crushed!"

The boy lowers the end of his eyebrows and touches Mishina's arm.

The boy, accompanied by Kuro and Neko, caught Mishina, who was the party to the incident that night, in the corner of the classroom looking for someone to testify that the boy was on campus the night of December 7. He was listening to the story. As his costumes were still being tried on, Mishina was surrounded by Ebisu, Benten, and the Samurai.

Mishina was crying, perhaps because he remembered how he felt when he lost his love as he spoke.

"Don't say crush clearly! Why are you trying to smear a person's wound with salt?"

"Because even if I ask Kukuri, it's not so much at the time, and I don't remember if I was there..."

"Did you ask Yukizome-san?"

As Mishina cries with the urge to hold his head, the boy feels a little sorry and tries to comfort him.

"But Mishina-kun, shouldn't you have made the confession a bit more normal? Is it okay? Isn't it a problem for the other person?"

He thought he was worried, but the amount of tears that had accumulated in Mishina's eyes increased.

"At first, I approached her more normally! I tried to tell her that I casually liked her! But it was amazing to feel the goodwill!"

"Ah! Kukuri, that seems pretty boring."

The boy laughed inadvertently.

"So, as impressive and dramatic as possible, a confession aimed at the suspension bridge effect..."

As he said that, Mishina held his chest as if remembering the pain of a lost love, and was screaming.

Kuro, who was listening to the story with his arms crossed at his sides, punches Mishina's back to strengthen him.

"Don't be so depressed. I think your way of declaring yourself is wonderful."

"Oh, yes. I respect the love and action of passionate young men like Mishina-kun who can make such a confession."

"You guys never comforted me, are you stupid?"

"That's not the case. I was looking at Mishina-kun, who loves a girl so much, thinking it was really amazing."

While raising his hands and calming the approaching Mishina, Kuro looked at the boy with half-eyes.

"But there seems to be no evidence that he was at the site where Mishina was."

"Eh, huh? You actually saw Mishina-kun's crush site, can you talk about the details?"

"Many students will have witnessed Mishina-kun's crush site. You can acquire as much information as you wish later."

"Crush site... stop saying crush site!"

Mishina cried out in a sad voice. Neko laughs.

"Fireworks, sunrise! It was so beautiful!"

While innocently laughing, Neko expresses how the fireworks could be seen with both hands open. When she looked at it from the side, it seemed like she was thinking, "Did you see it too...?"

The boy doesn't remember if Neko was with him at the time (after all, he didn't know that Neko was a human girl at the time, he thought she was just a kitten), but Mishina was sad and urged him to lose love. The beauty of the fireworks launched remains in the boy's memory.

"By the way, it was the people from the student association who stopped the fireworks that Mishina continued to fire, right?"

Mishina shook his face with a bitter bite.

"Oh! They were there, the people from the student association."

--- Secretary of the student association, testimony of Sakura Asama.

She arrives on the scene just as the date changed from December 7-8.

It took about 15 minutes before the first fireworks were launched. At the time, she and President Hyuga were working in the student council room. President Hyuga is an excellent student president who is also known as a teacher with abundant intelligence and ability to execute. She was a little nervous when she was alone with the president in the student meeting room at night.

Suddenly, there was a loud noise and the outside of the window suddenly lit up. Many bright fireworks were blooming in the night sky. It was romantic watching the fireworks with the president, but that's not the case.

"What's wrong? There shouldn't have been an app for practice shooting fireworks, etc."

The president squinted through the back of her glasses and immediately contacted a student council officer who was supposed to be looking around the clock tower where Mishina was setting off fireworks. The president knows exactly where and what the executives plan to do and everyone's work schedule. That is why she can immediately give appropriate instructions and verify the situation. (Is that amazing? You're longing for it, right?)

Well, the PDA didn't connect. It's not unreasonable because the student association officer who should be looking around the clock tower was Yukizome.

She was unable to reach Yukizome, but soon another officer contacted the president.

It seems like second year Mishina Sota confessed to Yukizome from the top of the clock tower and was hovering around in despair and burning fireworks.

The president immediately ordered other officers to rush to the scene to stop the fireworks launcher. Sakura quickly got ready for office with the president. She took the wire cutter out of the toolbox and prepared to open the door even if the caster locks the clock tower and stands up.

Glancing sideways as she was ready, the president turned and walked out of the student council room, continuing to speak into the PDA. At that time, the president's clean hair was fluttering and smelling pleasant. The president's hair goes well with her image, and has a refreshing scent that is not sweet but fascinating.

It was midnight when she joined the other officers from the student association and arrived at the clock tower.

The area around the clock tower was full of gathered students.

The area around the clock tower was full of gathered students. Everyone just opens their mouths and watches the fireworks that are launched one after another. There were so many people, so she couldn't help stopping someone. Well, there are people who cannot move easily unless someone takes the initiative. That is why someone was needed who had the power to make decisions and act as the president.

The students around the clock tower noticed the arrival of the president and said: "The student association has arrived!" They raised their voices. It is an air that is safe if it comes from the president. The crowded students quickly cleared the way for the president, who was like Moses.

When the president observed the surroundings and understood the situation, she gave instructions in a clear voice. "Stop this!"

"Ah, the president was great!"

"Eh? If did I see Isana over there? I don't know. He's small so I didn't see him."

The boy was drowning.

It was good to visit the student council room with Kuro and Neko, see the first-year girl, Sakura Asama, and hear the story from the night of December 7, but it emphasized how wonderful the student council president was that day. He was unable to obtain any testimony that she saw the boy.

Asama is a fluffy, mature-looking girl who looks cool with braided hair that's tied sideways, but when the story reaches the student council president, the picture shows the heat dissipating.

Chiho Hyuga, the president of the student council in question, is processing the documents in question without paying attention to the boy, whether she is listening or not. Hyuga is a beautiful girl with straight black hair on her back and red-rimmed glasses. A talented person who stands at the top of the student association, rumored to be more powerful than teachers, and manages various school events. It has gained overwhelming popularity.

The boy sat down and asked Hyuga.

"I... should have been there, don't you remember?"

"I don't know. It wasn't work to see if a fool was in the place."

She replied coldly without raising her face.

The boy let out a disappointing voice in response to the blunt answer.

"It was really difficult at the time. What if the president didn't deal with it quickly? Do you have the article at the time?"

Asama presented the school newspaper to the boy as her cheeks turned slightly vermilion, perhaps in contradiction to Hyuga's attitude at the time. "The flower of love that bloomed in the night sky!" Below the caption, there were many photos from the scene from that night, including a photo of Mishina, who was captured by sympathetic students' association officers with both arms clasped. But…

"I am not here."

It is not far-fetched because he does not recall jumping into the camera to appear in the newspaper photos, but he is disappointed that there is nothing to prove his innocence.

Kuro looking at the newspaper next to the boy also looked rough. Only Neko has a mysterious appearance, as if the situation is still unknown.

"If you want a picture of the riot, why don't you ask the journalism club? Because they were filming a lot that day."

"Yes. The president should have dealt with the incidents that happened in succession, and her activities should have been photographed."

Asama leans her body enthusiastically. Hyuga raised her face without paying attention to Asama's situation, and finally turned her attention back to the boy.

"More than that, guys. No matter how much you are preparing for the culture festival, don't wander around campus in a playful way. Especially you, long accessories are forbidden."

Hyuga's eyes were on Kuro's waist.

"Ah, this is for accessories...!"

Kuro was upset, but Neko laughed happily, perhaps because he was angry. The boy wanted to confiscate weapons that were aimed at his own life if possible, but thought that trouble was more likely to occur because of that. He immediately left the student council room.

"What was that, did she say that 'Kotowari' is a prop?"

"Okay. It means your samurai style suits you too well."

The boy treats Kuro, who bites his teeth while walking down the hall, with appropriate words that move only half his head. Kuro looked at the costume he was wearing, and then turned his eyes to the boy and Neko.

"But, well... like this outfit, the school festival here has a lot of excitement."

"Also, under the initiative of the students, the members of the student association will divide so that everyone can do whatever they want and work together to do and prepare various things. Like December 7, there are days when you can prepare until the evening and there are many free places in this school."

The boy looks out the window. Students wave a props mallet in the yard, talk about how they are decorated, and laugh happily at each other. The scene seemed somewhat defeated and the boy narrowed his eyes.

"It's because it's peaceful that you can do this and work hard at it. I think it's amazing, very nice."

Speaking of stubbornness, Kuro opened his eyes a bit, looked at the boy's face suspiciously.

"Don't say something like an old man all of a sudden."

"Eh? Are you intrigued?"

"And don't forget that your situation is not peaceful at all."

"Ah! That's..."

The boy was drooling. Maybe she thought he was depressed, Neko hugged the boy's arm and encouraged him, "Shiro, cheer up!"

Kuro took a deep breath and crossed his arms in thought.

"By the way, that girl said the incidents happened quickly after that..."

"Oh, that's right. There was a crushing incident, and while the student association was going to capture Mishina, there was an uproar."

"What is that?"

--- Testimony of colleague Sumika Inaba.

About Mishina's case, she thinks it was tough. She thinks the time was around 0:15.

She was moving the horse that was going to guide the gods at the school festival.

He is a good and calm horse. He has beautiful brown fur, round black eyes, and is friendly. The riding club usually takes care of him, but that night they loaned it for the event.

"So, I was about to return the horse to the riding club stables, but that idiot Mishina made that confession, right? That guy is really useless. That kind of thing should only be done by a kid who has a pulse and that he's sure she likes flashy surprises. I think about Kukuri's feelings that she has to reject him in front of the public. Well, in Mishina's case, he wouldn't have had such an upset spirit to pressure her to say "yes". It's just stupid."

"When I looked at Mishina's feelings from the end, I knew it completely, but Kukuri was so bored in the love relationship that she did him no favors, so she desperately tried to make him notice it for himself."

"But I never heard about Mishina from Kukuri, but I understand that she has no more feelings for Mishina than she does from friends. There is a possibility that Kukuri likes him, no, not at all."

"Well, what was the story? Oh, the story after the confession case. Mishina was turned away and set off fireworks, so the horse I was leading was excited. I was desperate to calm him down. Normally he's quiet, but it seems like was surprised by the sound and the strange atmosphere."

Everyone around her was in awe of the fireworks that continued to increase with the momentum of today's school festival. Among them, there was a guy who had a PDA, but he always forgot that he had a fire and watched the fireworks. It seems that he was experimenting with the tatami used in the evening festival, but he was told to be very careful when using the fire, but he neglected his hand and looked up at the sky, so the fire was next to him. It burned the object that was there. It was an object stretched out with paper glued on a wooden frame, so it burned vigorously. The scene was in a panic.

Then the horse she was leading, which was already excited, saw the flames and panicked. She started running all the way so she was about to get dragged off the rope. The horse was running with a force that seemed to bounce off the people around him, and she was half crying and chasing him. Thanks to the fire and the raging horse, the people around her screamed.

"Really, that night was hard, right?"

"Huh? See Isana at the scene? I don't remember. Why is that important?"

The boy dropped his shoulders in front of the lonely Inaba.

"Hey... I'm looking for someone to prove that I was there..."

The boy, who found Inaba right in front of the clock tower at the scene of the incident, recalled that Inaba was in this place with a horse that night, but the result was also lost.

"Isana Shiro-kun has an image that is not strange wherever he is, so he doesn't leave much of an impression no matter where he is. It feels like he's not there, even though he's there..."

"That's..."

Inaba put her finger to her lips and tried to remember for a while, but finally shook her head.

"No. I can't remember. After the horse ran away, I couldn't even look around."

"I see. Yes… thank you…"

He couldn't hide his disappointment, but with a slight smile, the boy raised his hand to Inaba and thanked her. Inaba watches the boy's face closely.

"By the way, Kukuri said, "Shiro-kun looks like he's going to disappear somewhere when you take your eyes off." When I heard that, I didn't understand at all, but he was there. I felt like I couldn't remember what he was doing and I felt like I could understand what Kukuri said."

Inaba is a good friend of Kukuri. The boy hesitates a bit, wondering what they were talking about.

"Eh...? Am I that overshadowed?"

"That's all. He is a popular person who is loved by everyone. Somehow... well, I can't trust his existence... I can't express it well..."

Inaba turned her head several times, but quickly stopped giving an answer and returned her gaze and interest to Neko sitting on a bench and dangling by her legs in her spare time.

"By the way, are you Neko? It's an interesting nickname. It looks cute on you, doesn't it? The costume looks great. I'll give you a candy."

"Hurrah!"

When Inaba took out the candy wrapper from her pocket, Neko who was bored jumped up with a bright expression. Neko, whose head is caressed with candy in her mouth, looks like a little girl with a full forehead.

"Good girl, Neko-chan. Should I buy a delicious Daifuku later?"

"Really? Food!"

Seeing Neko loved like a younger sister is fun, but it's not the case when the boy smiles at her. He already felt at a dead end when searching. Feel the spicy skin next to her, with a haunting aura.

She wishes she could remember who the boy spoke to that night, but sadly she doesn't have such a clear memory.

"You…"

"Ah, wait! Oh, look! Asama-san said that a lot of people in the journalism club were taking pictures that night, right? I'm sure if you ask him…"

Upon detecting Kuro's signal that he is about to draw the sword, the boy asked Inaba who was with Neko, quickly.

"I am also a journalism club. Do I ask the director?"

Inaba simply takes the PDA out of her pocket and calls the manager.

The director of the journalism department appeared to be taking pictures of the school festival preparations and came with a beautiful single-lens reflex camera hanging from his neck.

Upon hearing from Inaba, the director took the tablet from the PDA and searched for a photo from the night of the incident.

"It's a photo from December 7th, within an hour from 11:45 PM. Right after Mishina made the confession until the fire was extinguished and the wild horse was captured. At that time, there were many incidents at the same time, so several people took pictures at random."

"Wow, help!"

Looking like a god of salvation, the boy jumped on the offered tablet. Kuro also looks seriously.

While looking for the reflection of himself in a large number of photographs, Inaba went away saying: "See you later. I'm going to the classroom.", And the director of the journalism club began to photograph the traces of burned objects in front of clock tower. Neko who seems to be free begins to play with the cleaning robot, type Tsukumo 99, which was passing by.

In the idyllic afternoon sun, the boy and Kuro kept looking at the images on the tablet one by one.

Fireworks strewn across the night sky. The horse looking at them. The student council president who arrived in a hurry. A student association officer who opens the door of the clock tower. An object that begins to burn.

Dismay, come and go, run away, fire extinguisher.

Students who run with them. A horse that begins to raze and run. Those who run away from the horse, those who pursue it. Mishina is captured and taken out of the clock tower. The student council president who sees the noise outside and quickly begins to give directions. A student association officer who brings down students desperately trying to put out the fire with a fire extinguisher and pulls a hose from the fire extinguisher. Discharge of water that starts strongly. A member of the riding club runs in. A member that stops chasing the horse and keeps them away. A horse that moves through the school grounds. Students who coordinate and monitor. A flame extinguished by discharge of water. Guys who are full of soot and rejoice in putting out the fire safely. People around her clapping. A boy who starts crying. The student council president scolds him. However, after that, the vision of putting her hand on his shoulder as if he was happy he wasn't hurt. In a calm and warm mood, a horse that has run and calmed down slowly returns, and a member of the riding club and Inaba gently catch him. Robots that appear to "clean up the mess."

There were so many photos. The boy kept rushing to see the images appearing one after the other, but gradually the movement of the fingers when swiping the images weakened.

"No..."

Involuntarily a helpless sound leaked out. Many of the photos show a large number of other students who are not the protagonists of the case, but the boy who should have been there is nowhere reflected.

"I think I was wandering around here."

When he lowered his eyebrows, the director of the journalism club, who was pointing the camera around him, looked back with a look of surprise.

"Ah, really? There are so many photos from that day, so if you were there, you could find them somewhere, right?"

"No..."

Family views and rushed friends appear one after another, but he can't find the essential boy.

Kuro made his badass look even sharper and turned to the boy.

"You, after all, weren't there!"

"What happened? Is it important that you were there?"

The boy smiled a warm smile, suppressing the director of the journalism club, who bit a strange place and said: "No, it's nothing."

After all, unable to find a photo where it appeared, the boy returned the tablet containing the photos to the director of the journalism club and thanked him.

The boy, who had been unconcerned by the memory and the confidence that he was there that day, began to feel a gradual impatience.

"Hmm, I'm in trouble. I'm sure of it."

Although he made an effort to have a carefree voice, he painfully feels the disturbing signals emitted by Kuro getting louder and louder. Look sideways. Kuro with his eyes on his sword, seemed to have come to the realm of murder out of suspicion and anger, and looked at the boy with cold air. Partly due to the disguise he was wearing, he had the feeling that he was a samurai trying to behead the enemy. It can seriously cut it.

When the boy was in a cold sweat and faced Kuro, a bright and refreshing voice broke through the tense atmosphere.

"Oh, Shiro-kun!"

Kukuri, holding a luggage in his arms, was puffing out his cheeks when he saw the boy.

"Everyone is busy, but what are you doing?"

Before the boy made an excuse, he withdrew the murderous signal from the sword that had leaked just now, walked over, and scooped up the heavy luggage stuck in the cardboard box from Kukuri's arm. When asked, "Where are you going to take him?", Kuro has grown into a young warrior who is kind to girls and children. In a short relationship, the boy knew enough to say that he was basically a very caring man.

Kukuri happily thanked her and smiled.

"So can you bring it to the staff room? I have to take this to the student council room."

"I get it."

The moment he heard the exchange between Kukuri and Kuro, an inspiration ran inside the boy.

"Oh, that's right... the staff room..."

The boy gently raised the edge of his mouth.

"The student's departure record? Daimon?"

"Yes."

The old teacher who is in charge of literature has a rough and very laid-back personality. He is the perfect person to make this request.

The literature teacher turns his head mysteriously.

"Good, but... why again..."

"No, it's not a big deal... just that I could die."

The boy turns to the literature teacher and tells him the situation in a whisper. The teacher said, "Oh, yeah." If it was troublesome even though it seemed like he didn't understand why.

"When?"

"December 7th."

Check-out for December 7th was provided by a former literature teacher. When the boy succeeded, he laughed at an angle that did not look like a fox.

The only entrance to Ashinaka High School, which is an island, is the gate in front of the connecting bridge that connects to the mainland, commonly known as Daimon. To pass, the door sensor must be made to read the school-designated PDA, which also serves as a student ID card. Basically, all the times of entry and exit of people are recorded.

As he left the staff room and walked down the street in front of the research building, the boy analyzed whether the student's check-in and check-out from December 7, which he had just received, is endorsed to prove his identity. Start going through the list.

"Torisawa, Ariyoshi, Iida, Ikuno... Next is Inoue! Look! Isana Yashiro is not here."

On the paper, the names of the students who passed through the door that day are listed in the order of Aiueo, and the transit time is recorded next to each name. Students who go to school are basically on schedule to get in and out of school, and students who do not live in the dorm are on time to leave and return to school.

There is no boy's name on the paper, which means that the boy who lives in the dorm has not left campus one step that day.

The boy killed the tension and listened to Kuro's reaction with a casual face.

Kuro doesn't look at the recording paper the boy is showing, and walks with his gaze down with a calm expression that makes it difficult to tell what he's thinking.

"Shiro, Shiro! Wagahai is hungry!"

Neko who was not interested in what they were doing, complained innocently.

The boy does not care about Neko's comment, and pushes the recording paper to force him to see Kuro, who is looking down.

"This cleared your suspicions, right?"

Still, Kuro doesn't move his expression or his gaze. While the boy gulped and waited for Kuro's behavior, Neko feeling ignored clenched her fist with both hands and screamed.

"I'm hungry!"

Both the boy and Kuro stop at the scream of Neko's angry girlish look.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm relieved, so let's have a snack slowly."

"Yahoo! Snack! Kukuri has delicious senbe! After that, Kukuri's friend should buy Daifuku! Oh, I'm thirsty! Buy something, Shiro. Let's go!"

Neko, who is excited about the snacks, moves in a good mood and romps.

However, in contrast to Neko's high enthusiasm, Kuro still looks at the boy coldly.

The boy sighed and said in a tone reminiscent of the confused.

"That's why everyone who enters and leaves this island is controlled by the automatic gate. It is a pip. The fact that it is not on this list means that I have been on this island the entire time and could not have gone to the crime scene. Right?"

Kuro still hasn't opened his mouth. The boy left him and turned to Neko who was waiting in front of the vending machine.

"Wagahai should have juice!"

"That? Not enough coins."

When the boy clenched his pockets in an attempt to respond to Neko's pleas, a beep was heard. So, there is a sound of the juice Neko wanted.

When he raised his face, Kukuri, who was holding the PDA over the vending machine, turned her dismayed face towards the boy.

"Don't you have the PDA again? It's a rule, so you have to have it correctly. I mean, it's a pass."

An eerie air fell over the place. It can be understood without looking. There is a sign of anger that crosses the skin of the person in charge.

"Kukuri. Are you saying this boy never carries a PDA?"

Kukuri is unaware of Kuro's disturbances. The boy raised his finger in front of his mouth and desperately sent a gesture that he wanted to keep a secret, but Kukuri didn't notice and took it easy.

"No matter how much you tell him, he will forget."

"You can't walk through the door without a PDA, right?"

"He always manages."

The boy covered his face with the palm of his hand. He thinks he did, and it was at the same time that Kuro touched his sword.

"Kukuri. From now on, something unpleasant will happen here. Leave us alone."

"Wait, wait! I'm serious! I'm seriously looking for evidence!"

"Okay, I know you are a dishonest man."

In response to Kuro's threat, Neko stood up with a threatening voice and stood in front of the boy. Kuro keeps Neko in a sharp line of sight.

"Go away, or are you still this guy's partner? Do you want to get cut off with your master?"

"Wagahai is a cat! I'm Shiro's cat! I won't give you Shiro, Kurosuke!"

Neko hugged the boy with a desperate face and tried to be the boy's shield. Neko is hideously self-taught, but like animal cats, she is sensitive to danger. She exposes herself to Kuro, who is about to draw his sword, and strongly appeals over misaligned issues.

"Shiro is a good person and we eat delicious rice and sandwiches together!"

"Easy, Neko. You're making things more complicated."

The boy calmed the watery-eyed Neko and pushed her behind him.

She is innocent about the murder case, but it is true that she tried to ridicule him. The only one he should be mad at is the boy, who cannot involve or hurt Neko.

As soon as the boy took a position to hold Neko on his back, he rolled his eyes as if confused. Kuro, with a sad look, loosens his hand from the sword's handle as if he had lost.

"Sorry, Kuro. I'll take it seriously from now on! There were still a lot of things that day! Sprinkler destruction incident, toilet flooding incident, gym ceiling penetration incident, etc. I must have been somewhere. That's it! "

As the boy said, Kukuri, who had been left vacant with a face that until then could not swallow the situation, responded to the case of penetrating the roof of the PE warehouse and said, "What?"

"I ran into Shiro-kun at the gym that day, right?"

The boy opened his eyes to Kukuri's words, which seemed casual.

--- Testimony of the classmate, Kukuri Yukizome.

That day, she had the incident with Mishina at the clock tower... She was shocked and embarrassed. She did not know what to do and ran away.

She felt sorry when she learned later that there were several difficult things after that...

When she escape to the school building, she could hear loud voices and sounds from the clock tower all the time, and the people in the school building also noticed the noise and looked at the situation towards the clock tower. "I ran towards, I... I mean... it's also the cause... I felt like I didn't have a place to hide..."

So when she walked through the school building and down the high street, she heard something loud in the gym. She went to see what happened.

"It really was a terrible noise..."

When she opened the gym door and looked inside, she found Shiro. She was surprised because she didn't think there were people.

("Isana-kun! What are you doing here? Hmm. You were skipping the preparations for the school festival, right?")

"Shiro-kun disappears and takes a nap somewhere. Oh, but it was time to get ready for the night, so maybe it was a nap. If it makes him sleepy, I wish he would at least rest in the bedroom."

When he was talking about it, she suddenly realized that the moonlight was coming from a strange angle into the gym, which should be dark, and when she looked up, there was a large hole in the ceiling of the warehouse.

"Shiro-kun, you were also surprised when the ceiling suddenly fell, weren't you? I'm so glad you didn't hurt yourself."

That's why she went to the staff room to report. After all, it seemed that the roof was quite damaged, and it seemed that something flying in the wind had fallen. It is an old warehouse and it looks like they are going to demolish and rebuild it.

"Hmm? Shiro-kun, why do you look so happy?"

The boy who moved to the gym with Kukuri, and they looked up at the hole in the ceiling. The hole was repaired by putting a wooden board in its shape, but sunlight shone through the gaps in the board.

This is the scene of the "PE Warehouse Roof Penetration Incident", which is a relatively small incident among the many incidents that occurred that night. The discoverers are Isana Yashiro and Kukuri Yukizome.

"Oh, that's right. Hey, do you remember exactly when it was?"

The boy looked at Kukuri with a face that couldn't hide expectations and joy.

Kukuri operated the PDA in her hand to display a single photo. She had to report the hole in the gym to her teacher. The image clearly shows the boy looking at the hole in the ceiling.

The date and time data in the photo are...

"It was at 12:30."

"Less than an hour from the time of the crime."

The boy sighed with deep relief.

Kuro muttered with a complicated expression that seemed unhappy, but somehow relieved.

"It is impossible to return from the scene of the crime at that time."

"This time, the alibi is established!"

The boy jumped for joy. Even though Neko doesn't seem to understand the meaning, she jumps out with a face that makes the boy happy.

"What? What are you talking about?"

Kukuri looked at the boy with a clean face.

"You are my lifeline!"

The girl who proved the boy's innocence blinked slowly.

++++++++++

He was confused by himself, that somewhere in his heart he was relieved that an alibi was found.

He may not have been a bad "King", but the boy is a dishonest man. He try to pray for Kuro with a sigh. However, in front of Kuro, who was about to draw his sword, the boy kept Neko behind his back. If he is a coward, he will escape with a woman as a shield, he can cut him off without worrying about it.

When he saw the boy hiding Neko, the memories of the old days returned to his mind.

It was a memory from when Kuro was ten years old. There was an incident where a man who was Kuro's brother and Miwa's disciple, requested a battle from Miwa and raised his sword. Kuro, who was still young, wanted to protect his beloved master while confused, and trembled while holding a stick.

That brother, he was terribly strong. That person was offensive to Miwa. That fact scared him and made him think that he had to keep Miwa safe even if he replaced him.

However, Miwa gently put his hand on his head and smiled gently, appearing in front of him with a very natural movement.

The Miwa of that time and his appearance overlapped with the boy and Neko who was hiding.

Kuro knows the horror of having a loved one threatened.

Kuro also knows the strength and goodness of his back, which stands up to threat and protects.

"Is he fake or not? What is he?"

Kukuri, who was next to him, raised her face at the leaked message inadvertently.

"Hmm? Kuro-kun, did you say something?"

"No, nothing, sorry."

"Hmm... that? By the way, Shiro-kun?"

After confirming the boy's alibi in the gym, Kuro and the others returned to the classroom with Kukuri. However, along the way, the boy seems to have gone somewhere alone. A man soft and restless as a balloon. Although an alibi was found, the murder video mystery stands strong, and although the situation has not been resolved, he is surprised that it is a person with a weak sense of crisis.

"Hey, Kukuri, sandwich!"

Neko always becomes attached to the boy, but now it seems that with Kukuri's words, "Let's give her a sandwich", she stays glued to Kukuri.

"Yes. Kukuri-san's rice patisserie is open! Wagahai-chan, roasted rice, Negi Miso, roasted shrimp mochi, roasted mochi, carrot shoyu, Zarame roasted mochi, super spicy roasted mochi."

Kukuri takes the rice cakes out of the paper bag one after another and orders them. Neko looked at the rice cake with bright eyes.

"Is it spicy? Super spicy?"

"Super spicy is a very spicy rice cake."

"You want?"

"That's right, it's going to be very hot!"

"Nyaaah! Then that!"

He looked at Kukuri and Neko happily playing with each other, and Kuro pondered.

If the boy is really innocent and someone puts him to sleep and dresses in the murderer's wet robe, then his life in this school cannot be destroyed. The boy is a careless man, but after working together all day today, he knew well that he was surrounded by many friends at this school and loved this peaceful life. If something happens to the boy, Kukuri and the others will be sad.

After seeing Kukuri parading around the room and handing out rice cakes to other friends for a moment, Kuro looked at Neko sideways.

"Hey, Neko."

To Neko who is happy to receive a spicy rice cake from Kukuri, Kuro bluntly throws words at her.

"I am still reluctant to your existence, but what are you really? Why are you with Isana?"

"Wagahai is a cat."

"That again... Are you a Strain?"

"Strain?"

"He is a talented and lonely person."

Neko puffed out her cheeks as if offended.

"I was alone, but now I have Shiro. Because this Shiro, I'm not alone anymore. Also being with Shiro, I received a snack from Kukuri."

"Isana the one who picked you up?"

"Shiro picked up Wagahai, and Wagahai picked up Shiro. So Neko is Shiro's cat, and Shiro is Neko's."

What Neko says is still irrational. However, even so, Kuro has deepened his sympathy for Neko.

Kuro is also a person who was alone until he was picked up by Miwa.

"Since when have you been with Isana?"

He felt a bit grumpy and made a softer voice than before, but Neko didn't answer this question. She turns to the side and holds the rice cake she received to her chest and walks away from Kuro.

Kuro sighed deeply and looked around.

In the classroom, students are on their feet and working to prepare for the school festival. Everyone was working hard, especially Kukuri seemed to be busy, and although she was still smiling, she was on her feet and working as she watched the progress here and there.

(Because it's nice to be able to do this and work hard at it. I think it's really nice.)

Remembering the boy's words, Kuro inwardly agreed. Everyone enjoys peace as a matter of course, so they can work hard to prepare for a festival like this. Is very precious.

It was supposed to be a distant vision for Kuro, who is destined to cut down the evil "King".

However, when he was looking at them, he feared they were uncomfortable.

According to the boy, the school festival was only three days away. Even so, he can still see a blank cloth in the hands of the students who are sewing the costumes, will they be okay? They are putting together an accessory, but if they stretch the board first, he thinks they won't be able to fit that part later. As for the group that does interior decoration, it seems they don't even know what they want to do, but maybe they can't get it done in time.

As he stared at them, something in Kuro began to sting him. It may be because the boy's search for a alibi has stabilized and relaxed him. Since Kuro is from a rural school with a single digit number of students, it is possible that he was not related to such a school festival and has stimulated something of a longing. Maybe the nice guys at this school he was involved with today couldn't just leave him alone, thinking he might get in trouble later.

"Hey! Then they won't be able to make it in time for the school festival! Lend me the tools! I'll help you!"

When he suddenly raised his voice, the students' eyes slyly met. Kukuri rounded her eyes, and the next moment she said with a happy voice, "Really? Help!"

++++++++++

The boy returned to the bedroom, rubbing around his tense shoulders.

He has not been able to take a nap in his daily routine because he was desperately moving while being watched by Kuro today. When he was relieved, he was suddenly tired and sleepy.

"Oh, I'm tired. I wonder if they want to kill me every day."

As he tried to dive into bed, he found he was still in his school festival costume and stopped. Sorry for the clothes his friend sewed with so much effort.

"Wow, I left my uniform in the classroom."

The boy opened the closet looking for a change of clothes. He should also pick up his uniform when his deliver the costume to the classroom later. He searches a poorly organized closet, trying to put on comfortable clothes.

As soon as he grabbed a replacement shirt from the bottom of the closet and lifted it, the boy's body froze.

There is blood.

As soon as he realized that, his body starts to shake.

Under the shirt he grabbed, there was another white shirt. Blood was attached to the front like splatter. It became rough and hard.

Does not know. He doesn’t know what that is.

The boy did not remember the bloodstained shirt. The only thing he inevitably remember is that murder movie.

(It's a beautiful night, right? I came to take a night view, but what are you doing in such a place? I'm Tatara Totsuka, and you?)

Someone with the boy's face turns around and shoots the photographer who speaks quietly.

When the image is blurry and the photographer collapses for a moment, and then the person who looks like the boy reappears, the shirt is stained with blood.

(I am the Seventh King, the Colorless King. I am waiting for someone. Is it a good, night? Oh, yes, it is a good night!)

The shot in the video echoes behind the boy's ears.

Is different. He can't be him. He doesn't remember that, and Kukuri proved he was in Gakuenjima 45 minutes after the crime. Thinking normally, there should be no way to get from the crime scene to Gakuenjima in 45 minutes.

But... no one proved his alibi at the time of the crime. It must have been in front of the clock tower at the time, but no one remembered if it was there and it wasn't in the photos.

"Wrong! It's not me! I'm not killing people! So... what is this damn shirt?"

Many thoughts swirled in the boy's head.

"Shiro!"

Neko's bright voice broke into the boy's disturbed thought.

The boy hurriedly shoved his shirt back and closed the closet door.

When he raised his face, innocent-faced Neko had just entered the room.

"What? What's wrong? Oh, is it a sandwich?"

"Kukuri gave me a super spicy rice sandwich! So, she said to call you, and after that she said she will give me an ultra-spicy sandwich!"

Neko moves happily and informs to express her mood with her whole body.

The boy returned an awkward smile.

"Okay, now I'm going."

Neko looks at the boy's face and clouds her happy face a bit.

"Shiro…? Does your stomach hurt?"

Eagerly walking towards Neko, the boy puts his hand on her head.

"Is nothing."

Suppressing the anxiety and fear that slowly spread throughout his body, the boy gently stroked Neko's head.

#k #k project #k the first story #Isana Yashiro #Yatogami Kuroh #neko #k fan clan #k novel

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