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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 1 year ago

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What were you thinking about when that buzzer sounded?

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

AN: The latest chapter is finally here, and it is the penultimate chapter of the series. I hope to update this soon so you aren't left hanging too long for the finale, so fear not, I will put every effort into getting it written! Love you guys, and appreciate all the asks and comments you send me 🥰

Part 9 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

For a moment, while you swam between waking and sleeping, everything was dark. The floor felt like it was shifting from underneath you. Piercing noise filled your ears and rattled throughout your entire body. Barely a few seconds later your retinas were scorched by sizzling orange light.

This isn’t right.

What’s happening?

You felt yourself frown despite the crackling ache that hammered into your skull, the wrinkle in your brow was more like a molehill. Even in the brilliant glow of the light around you, you couldn’t make anything out. You were only seeing hazy shapes and thinking thoughts that were barely more coherent. The piercing noise turned into a low buzz, though the room still felt like it was on an unsteady foundation.

What happened?

Where were the others?

You strained a moment, breathing heavily and stretching your body out. Were you lying down? You looked downward at your crumpled form and groaned. You’d confirmed it alright, as if the cold damp ground weren’t proof enough. It was difficult to tell how long you’d been laying like that, however if the prickling in your arms and legs were anything to go by it had clearly been a while.

You were struggling to try and work out what had happened. It felt like you were fighting for the last plank of wood in a shipwreck, your head feeling like it had been knocked and rolling in the foaming waves for some time before you’d come to. Though finally through the spray of racing thoughts you were able to grasp onto something more, a dull thudding sound that rhythmically beat behind you. A groan of anguish followed not long after, and then something that sounded like a string of choked curses.

“Looks like your friend has awakened, Captain. Shall we give you a break…?”

You frowned deeper, but you didn’t get long to work out who those words belonged to before you were seized. Suddenly Your body was being hoisted up by a pair of rough hands and you were all but thrown down in a deeply uncomfortable metal chair. As if that wasn’t enough to contend with, the unexpected movement sent your stomach and head roiling into green sickness. As you slowly started to snap out of it, you came to realise you were being bound to the chair that you’d been slammed into. A couple of pairs of hands were grabbing you and fastening you tightly to the cold metal, leaving you all bound up like a christmas turkey.

“You don’t look so good, Sergeant,” the voice from before taunted, sounding from somewhere above you. “But that makes sense, ah? My men already gave you quite the head wound back at the market. I wonder…are you even hearing me right now? Has your head been cracked open too many times now?”

You choked down the lump that had sat heavy in your throat and jerked your head up, facing the dark shape that had cast such an oppressive shadow over your eyes. Whoever it was, was standing in front of the light. You had no hope of seeing them, trying as you were.

“Fu-...fuck you,” you muttered, blinking your eyes up at the silhouette of your tormentor.

The man chuckled, a raspy sound that came from deep within his chest.

“You’re not lost to us yet, I see.”

You gritted your teeth and continued to desperately try and focus your eyes on the man. Something within you was burning, there was bile trying to force itself upwards the longer you held your head up, though intuition told you it wouldn’t be much of a shame if you spat up on whoever it was that had captured you.

“Who-oo are you?” you demanded, throat too dry to carry the threat you wanted.

“Oh, Sergeant, your condition might be worse than we’d feared. Don’t you recognise me?”

You shook your head up at the shadow man, growing tired of your confused state. Even tied to a chair you still couldn’t seem to piece together how you got there. The last thing you could recall was telling Soap and Ghost to run, warning them of an oncoming party of men that were approaching the back of the truck.

The trucks.

That’s right, you’d stolen yourselves away on the trucks - you’d all been waiting to see where they’d set up camp. Except…. They hadn’t stopped at any kind of base. The trucks had stopped so that they could get some respite after having to quickly pack up and leave their old haunt - it had been Soap that had said something about that. Soap had translated something they’d said.

Then König had said something through the comms…what was it again? He’d said-

“Am I not keeping your attention, Sergeant? How rude.”

If the disembodied voice wasn’t enough to tear you out of your thoughts, the slap that knocked your teeth together was.

Fresh pain blossomed over your cheek and you groaned out. It only served to make you even more acutely aware of the sorry state your body was in. Everything was hurting and nothing felt right. You’d been in some scrapes in your life, but for the second time you were sure this was going to be the end of you. Slowly but surely, whoever it was that held you captive was going to rip you to shreds.

At the very least, you decided you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of finding it pleasurable. You weren’t going to beg for him.

“Maybe you need a familiar face to wake you up properly.”

You glared up at the man above you, ready to spew vitriol that could outspark a petrol fire, but you didn’t get the chance. The wind was knocked from you when the chair was kicked on its side and you’d gone tumbling with it. Back on the grimy floor again, you thought, maybe if I’m lucky I’ll fall in a puddle and drown.

Self pity had stopped you from immediately looking ahead. Though the moment you managed to concentrate on anything other than the searing pain that was winding itself around your wrists, ankles and back, you were unpleasantly surprised to see a thunderous face over on the other side of the room. One that looked much like you felt.

“Price?” you croaked, locking gazes with his wide eyed stare.

He couldn’t answer you back. Price’s mouth was gagged with a thick piece of cloth, something like an old tshirt scrap. The fabric was wrapped tightly around his face and it was trapping all the expletives he’d normally be hurling from exploding into the tiny room. You strained as you looked at him, what was that that was dripping from his face? Had he been bleeding that much? It looked too thin to be blood alone.

You’d never seen the Captain like this before, he was in a sorry state. His face was sporting a rainbow of different bruises, and, from below that, swollen skin that had bubbled up into painful lumps. His armour and his weapons had been stripped from him, his jacket and hat as well, his hair was limply slicked back on top of his head. His shirt had been partially torn and that too was wet, it looked like they’d used a knife on him - you could see the bloody evidence in the form of a thick cut that striped roughly through his pecks.

“Price,” you said again, not quite sure what else to say. “Captain!”

You’d never seen him look so vehemently possessed by rage. He hadn’t even been this angry when he’d called you out for the whole König debacle. No, now that he was faced with you lying on the ground and lost for words he was the most furious you’d seen him in his life. If it weren’t for the gag, you’d have been convinced that he’d have spit fire.

“Speaking more confidently, Sergeant. This is good. Maybe now we can begin, yes?”

“Begin what?” you spat. “You think you can learn anything from me?”

The man chuckled, the sound emanating as if from a wide rocky cavern. The sound filled the room uncomfortably, squashing you, causing you to wince just before you were picked up by the back of the chair and set right upright again.

It was when you finally widened your eyes, that you were more clearly able to see the man in front of you. The sight of him made your heart drop. It was John Rousseau himself. His determined gaze was set on you as if he’d ripped himself free out of the photographs on your briefing documents and sprung to life in all his terrible glory. Though unlike the photographs, - taken when he’d been captured earlier on in his life- he was smiling now. He held something of a more deadly glint in his eyes.

You were left speechless then. What were you to say to the man you’d been chasing all that time? Now that he was standing in front of you in the flesh, tight black clothes showcasing his rippling arms and powerful legs. You weren’t going to last long if he was going to keep kicking and hitting you, you knew that then.

“This isn’t an interrogation, soldier - I don’t need to learn anything from you. We’re in the middle of making a very special video, a little gift for your superiors. They will get the benefit of seeing that you are alive - mostly. And they will know we are serious in our demands. In return they will give us back my brothers. If not then…you will not remain alive for much longer, will you?”

Rousseau’s widening smile reminded you of a venomous snake slithering out a dark crevice for the hunt. If that weren’t enough to unnerve you, the sound of something metal being scraped across the ground and the following rush of sloshing water lapping against its edges was enough to do the trick. All at once you realised exactly what Rousseau intended to do.

Price roared from the otherside of the room, in the corner of your vision, struggling futilely against his impossible bindings. Though you didn’t focus much on him. A shadow crossed the room and you painfully twisted your head to meet the barbarian that made it. You watched as another familiar face, the man from the market that had killed his associate, stood silently above you. He held a cheap old digital camera aloft in his hands and smiled slyly, giving you your last glimpse of cruelty before a cloth was forced over your face and the world went dark once more.

They were going to do to you exactly what they had done to Price. Finally you knew why he was so wet. Your body shook.. You could hardly breathe. Though you had to. Your training demanded it. You’d been waterboarded before, though now it wasn’t going to be a test. This was the real deal, there was no end goal in sight. You could hear the bucket being lifted off the ground, it was almost too late to remedy your panic.

No, you had to steel yourself.

Deep breath in, soldier.

And Hold it.

Hold it.

-☠️-

Ghost and Soap stood over the group in front of them with expressions so solemn that they could've dropped birds from the sky. Soap kept wincing as he’d shift his weight and forget his bad leg, and Ghost couldn’t stop staring off to the side, clearly replaying what had happened, turning it over and over in his mind until his eyes glazed almost grey. It was clear to see that neither one could reconcile with what had just gone down.

After a moment of empty silence, considering what to say, both the men eventually recounted what had happened to the others, facing Laswell and the rest of the men with their blank eyes and flat voices as they tried to stay professional. No matter how hard they tried though, their minds still lingered on the soldier they’d left behind, ceaselessly wondering what had happened to you.

Around halfway through your impromptu truck ride, with you on top while the two men hid inside, Gaz had reported that his group had reached exfil and regrouped with the rest of the team. Most of the remaining soldiers had made it there, along with a very rattled Laswell who’d explained to everyone that the safe house had been compromised and Price had been taken by surprise, caught in a trap laid out by the first rogue truck that had left the compound. Ghost, Soap and you of course had heard this through Gaz’s comms, one of the last lines to remain working - the other’s had faced multiple blasts and close combat bouts.

From that moment, now that they had contact and were aware of where Rousseau was headed, everyone was concentrating on regrouping with your team. They were tracking your signal and speeding along in the last of the working vehicles, hoping and praying they could reach the trucks and bring everyone back.

The men’s eyes flicked between each other as they let the story unfold, remembering what it was like standing in the almost pitch black of the cargo container while you lay above them. The tension that had yet to leave their bodies, only had them straining their tired muscles more.

Soap told everyone about you hissing over the line from above, telling him and Ghost about the trucks slowing down. You’d asked for orders and Soap had looked warily at Ghost then, watching as the man loomed over him and quietly searched for an answer. He’d curtly told you to lay low and stay quiet, tell them if anyone got out. It wasn’t long before you reported just that, and Soap had plastered himself to the doorway, straining to try and hear what they could be saying out there.

His French was rusty, rustier than his Spanish, but he was able to make out parts of a conversation that had broken out. They were talking about how glad they were that they could finally stop, one said something about needing to piss, the other laughed with him and said it was a wonder he’d managed to hold it in through the blasts. Another man had approached them and shouted over, saying that they needed to check the cargo first and ensure it wasn’t damaged or he’d make sure they’d never piss right again.

It was at that point, that it was evident that you all had to move. Though none of you could think of a way to make it past the small army undetected, especially if Ghost and Soap were required to burst from the creaking metal doors. Therefore, they’d decided to go with the distraction that you’d come up with, not a great one, but one that gave them a semblance of a shot to get away nonetheless.

König had intervened, he’d cut into the conversation with a new level of fury and demanded that you rethink your plan. ‘You can’t do this! Don’t you dare go ahead with this suicide mission!’ He thought it was sheer stupidity to throw a frag out into the middle of the group and just hope that they were too distracted by the fallout to track the direction it had come from. He’d all but ordered you to wait for the team to reach you all, but you’d argued back, saying that they couldn’t count on not being discovered until then. They were too far away.

You’d told him you loved him over the line, seemingly uncaring what the rest of the team thought of it now, and said that he had to let you work. Next thing they knew, you were informing Ghost and Soap that you were sending the frag out. It was difficult to hear König’s frenzied screams after that, they were just higher notes floating on top of the discordant din that was soon to follow.

When you’d pulled the pin all hell had broken loose.

Ghost and Soap clattered from out of the truck and you scrambled down from the top, rejoining the two men before sprinting like hell into the thin treeline. The wood’s were no longer as lush in the place they’d stopped, probably by design so they would know if they were being approached. Unfortunately it meant they were able to track your group running away as well. You could hear the distant sound of their cries start to get closer again.

Gunfire had broken out, peppering the air with loud shots. What seemed like hundreds of soldiers but was probably a group of around twenty, chased you all down and shot at your feet. They were demanding that you all stop, shouting in English and French and possibly other languages too.

For a wondrous minute it had seemed like you all might get away with your lives, but just as you hit a thicker portion of the woods, a single grenade was tossed in your direction and all of you were sent flying.

Ghost took over the report then. Soap’s voice cut out as he remembered the sickening churn of his stomach just before he’d blacked out. He was struggling to keep aloft. Only the thought of you out there somewhere kept him standing, the thought of your determined eyes as you fought like hell for the two men that had been intent on icing you out. All because they thought you were going to break up the team from your fooling around… And what did all that matter now?

Ghost slyly knocked his elbow into Soap, getting him to stay out of his mangled thoughts before he continued. He told everyone how Soap had been knocked out when he’d hit the ground, but you and he were still awake.

Soap had managed to rouse again, but he was hardly up to walking after his dodgy landing - never mind running unassisted on that bad right leg. Ghost wasn’t feeling a hundred percent either after being slammed into a thick tree trunk, but he was able to carry on. He’d tried to insist that you should help with Soap and you could all run together, but you’d shaken your head and denied him any assistance. You’d told him to take Soap and send the others forward, he had to direct them to you, or they’d never find you all in time you’d said. You could defend yourself from there, you’d assured them you could do it.

Ghost had tried to reason with you, pleaded with you not to be a fucking idiot, but you weren’t hearing any of it. You pulled out your gun, like a knight drawing their sword for the last stand, and told him simply that he could insult you after the job was done and you’d recovered Price. You’d reminded him that when you were all home safe, there would be a meeting to discuss your forbidden relationship, and he could get all of his famous remarks on record as well. Ghost’s face soured at the memory, but from there everyone was all caught up on what had happened.

He and Soap had reached the others and then they had pushed forward. Only, they didn’t find you by the rocks, or in the place where the trucks had been. That spot was empty save for a few men that had stayed behind to try and fight them off and prevent anyone from following. It was then that they knew they’d lost you and Price and the mission was over. They had failed completely.

König had heard enough. He’d been listening to their little tale with a curled lip that quickly turned to a full sneer and with every passing second that he spent revising over the details of their quest of incompetence, he felt his body temperature rise by another degree. He was so angry, he was shaking.

He stormed forward, slicing through the team of men that stood between him and Ghost with precision, ramming the Lieutenant down before he could think to do anything. It wasn’t possible to stop him, he’d borne down on Ghost with an animal force and soon he was swiping and clawing at him like he might take out his throat. The screams that were bursting out of him were nothing short of feral.

“It should have been you! You should’ve stayed behind, you rat fucking bastard. You lead your team on a suicide mission and yet here you stand telling us all about how we failed. You failed, you failed Ghost! You failed Sneak! Do you hear me? I will tear you apart! I will rip the skin from your bones and burn what’s left of you and then I will piss on your ashes, you fucking swine!”

“König!”

Horangi tried to be his voice of reason, but König was too far gone. He was incensed.

As if it weren’t bad enough that the love of his life had professed their love while they actively ensured their own destruction, he now had to listen to the Lieutenant prattle on about what had happened as if you hadn’t been pressured into being the sacrificial lamb. It was too much to bear. His head was ringing with your love confession and with the thoughts of what those men could be doing to you even as he tried to tear Ghost apart. The images were inspiring him to further cruelty, echoes of past sins and future vows.

König continued to pummel Ghost, trying to target his weak spots with prejudice, but he didn’t get to keep the upper hand for much longer. The Lieutenant wasn’t going to allow himself to be turned into mince. He wasn’t any good to Price or you if he let himself face König’s punishment.

Ghost grabbed out at König’s wildly swinging fists and caught one, using the moment of struggle to punch him in the ribs and swing round so that he was on top of the Austrian. König howled and flailed like a banshee, but he couldn’t do much of anything once he was on his back. Gaz and Horangi had joined Ghost, they assisted in pinning König down and now his shouts were reduced to heavy breaths as he stilled against the pressure. He was like an alligator with its mouth taped shut, the moment that the binding came off he was determined to strike again, bite through his prey in one clean motion.

Soap stood watching in horror from above the little skirmish. His face was paling to an ill shade. It was then that it finally occurred to him that maybe you hadn’t thrown away your position on a stupid fling. You weren’t turning your back on your family, you had just found someone else worth letting in. Why else would König sound as if he was ready to face death itself for you? You both had to be far closer than anyone could have comprehended.

Soap was left blinking silently as he gazed up at Ghost and then to Gaz, wondering, had they realised the same thing?

“König you need to calm down,” Ghost advised, voice straining as he fought through the pounding headache that blossomed in the base of his skull.

“Ghost…” König trailed, thinking on his words for a moment. “Unless Sneak is returned safely, I will never be calm again. In fact, I will make it my personal mission to break you. I will take you to some god awful hole somewhere and make sure that you live long enough through your torture to forget what daylight looks like. Only once you’re empty, will I bury the shell of you alive!”

Ghost’s left eye twitched, the lid took a moment to settle. König could hardly have known that he’d strike a nerve, but as he saw Ghost’s expression behind his mask he let his mouth curve into a smug grin behind his hood. Even if he couldn’t hit him physically he could settle for mental warfare.

Ghost struggled not to take his revenge. There was a brief moment of inner turmoil where he wanted to reach out and smash every tooth out of the mercenary’s head, but there was a voice in his head that demanded he didn’t. They needed every resource they had to retrieve their missing Sergeant and Captain. As much as he hated König, he couldn't deprive the team of an effective member, and loathe as he was to admit it he knew you’d need someone to come home to.

Ghost rose up off of König then, silently glaring down at him before he looked over at Laswell. His golden lashes caught the light, and then so did his eyes, showcasing the dangerous glint that settled just underneath the surface.

“Well, until we find Sneak and Price, why don’t you just keep yourself under control. Yeah?” He said gruffly, stepping away from König before he got second thoughts about beating him to a pulp.

König was allowed back up again, only when the others were sure he wouldn’t try and tackle Ghost. He hated having all their eyes on him. He’d never felt so afraid in all his life and now he was being put under a microscope by people that, as much as he tried not to for your benefit, he despised.

Horangi was his saving grace. His old friend turned to the others and shooed them off with a jerk of his head before he turned back and gave König a sympathetic tilt of his head. He knew better than to try and offer any words of comfort or to try and stick around. König was beyond calming, it was obvious to see from his flexing hands and narrowed eyes.

König’s mind was a storm of emotions. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so much, so deeply. He was furious with you, upset that you would throw your life away just to try and save the stupid teammates that had gotten you into such a predicament in the first place. His heart tore thinking of you trying to salvage your relationship with your brothers while they let you fall to the enemy.

Most of all though König felt terribly frightened. For once he had no control over the situation. He couldn’t smash his hulking body at the problem, nor threaten his way to the outcome he wanted. He just had to wait and hope that you would be alive somewhere and that you were ok. He could feel his breaths shorten at the thought of you being hurt by those awful men. Men just like him - men with no qualms about ignoring any sense of empathy in order to get a job done.

Was the world punishing him?

For some reason König couldn’t help but feel that whatever happened to you was his fault. Was it the divine justice? After all the people he’d torn through, all the faces he’d beat unrecognisably in the name of getting the job done, was one of his most treasured people going to be lost to him in exchange for his misdeeds? You were the one that had called him out on it all, how could you be the one to pay?

König felt dizzy, as if the world were spinning double time and the sky was waving and distorting in his vision. The light blue and purple hues were starting to fade with the closing light, and soon enough the sky would fall completely to black. Were you being kept somewhere dark? Did they have you bound and screaming?

He thought he was going to be sick.

All of a sudden he was locked in a glass cage, everyone around him was muffled and his body was constricted. He couldn’t breathe. He was cursing internally, gasping for air all the while.

Why couldn’t you have fucking taken me instead?

“König.”

König’s eyes flicked up, he jerked when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Suddenly he realised he’d been standing with his arms wrapped tightly around his body like a safety harness and let his hands drop to his sides. He peered down at the man connected to that stupidly brave hand and then locked eyes with Soap.He sneered, throwing the appendage away from himself before he gave into the compulsion to break it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” König hissed.

“Laswell’s ordered us to move, mate,” Soap answered softly.

König looked off to the spot that everyone had been gathered in before, and realised that they’d all begun dispersing into the transports. Everyone was heading along to the beaten up trucks and piling in like cartoon clowns. Ghost was at the head of them all, König didn’t miss him, keeping a wary eye on Soap and König as he directed everyone else.

König laughed darkly to himself and started walking. Ghost didn’t need to worry yet. There was still time to save you, they were all safe for the time being. While you remained alive.

“Kind of you not to leave me behind,” König said, his voice coming out harshly through his gritted teeth. “Better you stay away though. You’ll convince me give into my temptations if you give me too much opportunity, Sergeant.”

König expected Soap to turn tail and run ahead of him then, but was surprised and annoyed when he noticed him keeping pace as they walked to the trucks together. It made König wonder if Soap wanted him to break again.

“You and Sneak have been seeing each other off base, haven't you?”

König stopped in his tracks again and locked eyes with Soap, looking for whatever evil had to be lurking in the abyss of blue. However if there was any ill intent, he couldn’t see it in his body language. Soap looked at him in earnest.

“Why would you bring that up?”

Soap ran a hand through his frayed mohawk and looked away for a second, nervously meeting König’s eyes again once he gathered his courage.

“Well you’ve been…” Soap paused for a moment, searching for the right word, “datin’, right?”

“This is hardly the time for your morbid fascination with our relationship,” König sneered, finally walking ahead again.

“It’s not morbid fascination.”

“Then what?”

“This team has been Sneak’s life for a long time now - we’re a family. When I thought they’d gone behind our backs and fooled around, was going to break up the team for the sake of some fun I was angry…but I know that’s not what it was now. So I just wanted to say I'm sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re sorry are you? I would never ‘fool around’ with Sneak,” König growled. “You all wanted to see our relationship with each other as a stupid crush because none of you think of me as a person. I’m not some dog that they picked up off the side of the road, I’m a man the same as you. I love Sneak with everything that I have. And now you’re claiming to love them too after the way you acted? Sorry doesn’t cut it. You and Ghost, fuck, the whole 141 failed Sneak. Don’t come to me with your pathetic apologies, Sergeant.”

König didn’t give Soap any time to answer his verbal lashing, not that he had much of anything to say to that. How could he stand and defend himself when he’d been the cause of your guilt and the reason that you’d felt pushed to send him and Ghost to their safety while you fell? He was motionless as König picked a truck to settle into, picking a relatively empty section of the bed that only grew more sparse as the other men inside scrambled to keep their distance.

Soap stared a minute longer, but he was forced to move when he realised he was one of the last to load up. His feet marched automatically, but his head never left the conversation. He’d think about it until the moment he knew you were safe again. He had to be able to get his chance to apologise properly, he had to prove that he loved you no matter what, even if Price wouldn’t let you stay on the team. He could live without working with you, but he couldn’t go on knowing he’d been the cause of your death.

König watched Soap trudge toward Ghost and closed his eyes, willing his breaths to remain steady and for his tears to stay safely welled behind his lids. He couldn’t let himself cry. It felt too much like admitting that you were dead already. Then where would that leave him?

Instead, he put his hand into his trouser pocket and clasped at the little wooden bird that had stayed safely hidden inside. His thumb traced along the smooth stretch of the swallow’s back and towards its beak, gently landing on the tip. He silently hoped that wherever you were, you’d feel the gentle kiss of his spirit and know that you would be safe again. However improbable that was - it was the only thing that could give him any thought of comfort.

-☠️-

It’d been a long and sweaty ride over to the next town, for the start of the journey anyway. Toward the end, night was falling and the temperatures cooled dramatically, suddenly leaving the soldiers glad for all of the heavy layers they were wearing. It made some of them look at König, Horangi and Ghost jealousy, for once, wishing that they too had full face coverage in the chill of the dark winds.

Ghost’s eyes had remained far away for the duration of the ride. No matter what Soap or Gaz said, they couldn’t get him to focus much on them. He was completely distant. It was as if his consciousness was held hostage from within his body, like his mind was replaying the days events over for him and holding him to his mistakes. Though when Soap had been brave enough to try to confirm his suspicions of Ghost’s guilt he was greeted with a ‘fuck off’ for his efforts.

Gaz put his hand on Soap’s shoulder, then gave him a gentle look. It had Soap swallowing thickly at the lump in his throat and soon enough he was looking away, doing everything not to turn into a screaming wreck in the wake of his dark eyes. Gaz looked away too.

“We’ll get them back,” Gaz mumbled, patting Soap’s shoulder again before he removed his hand. “At least for now, we know that they have each other.”

“Aye, and how do we know that?” Soap said bitterly.

“What do you mean?”

“We don’t know that they’re together. They could be holding them separately or could have them blindfolded and gagged. Hell, they could’ve killed one of them and only taken one back with them - there’s a lot more risk having two soldiers. We have no idea if Price and Sneak are-”

“Shut the fuck up, Soap,” Ghost growled.

Gaz and Soap’s eyes flashed over to Ghost in an instant. His tone was hard, and his slouched posture straightened back and returned all of his missing height.

“We’ll get em’ back,” he vowed. “Or we die trying.”

Ghost had no way of knowing quite how daunting that promise would be in light of things to come. Though when they finally reached a safe place to stop and reconnect with command back home, the severity of the situation landed upon all of them like a ton of bricks.

Laswell and Ghost managed to wrangle an empty room and took a private call with General Morrison. It was then, in the dark of that claustrophobic room, that they learned about the ransom video that had been sent over during their journey to their makeshift base - a tiny village with a few homesteads and farm land.

The general didn’t seem to want to give much detail about the video, he was shifty with them both. It was only from some not so polite prodding from Ghost, that the General revealed that they weren’t permitted to have any dealings with the terrorist group.

“They’re going to splash this all over the fuckin’ press general. This is going to be a disaster, and you’re saying that our response to this is to just do nothing?” Ghost spat.

“It’s all about optics, Lieutenant, you know that. The Captain and Sergeant will be a great loss, but we can’t be seen to be releasing criminals like stray dogs after said dogs were convicted of kidnapping civilians and blowing up markets. We can’t make the deal.”

“Then fuck the deal!” Ghost said, glaring into the camera lens with hot fury.

Laswell baulked, quickly realising that Ghost was going to get himself into trouble if she didn’t step in. She put a hand on his arm and looked pointedly toward the laptop, hoping to appeal to any shred of decency that might be lingering in the greying general’s arsenal.

“I think Ghost is trying to suggest that we put a team together and we track them down. We get our people back and take down that bastard Rousseau once and for all, sir.”

The harsh lines in the general’s old leathery face settled and his stare was neutral once again. Laswell untensed too. Only Ghost was left seething, he wasn’t going to be calmed at a time like this. The only thing that would put him at ease was knowing that you and Price were going to be returned safely. That wasn’t going to be anytime soon.

“John Price is a good man,” the general said after a long pause. “I can grant you a small team, but it can’t be on record. If this blows up, you’re on your own.”

“And if it goes well it was all a great effort organised by the cunning officers who sat bravely by their desks.” Ghost muttered.

Laswell kicked out at Ghost from under the table and was grateful that the general didn’t seem to catch his snide remark from through the terrible connection. She quickly smiled toward the laptop and nodded curtly. She could work with a few men, and she was pretty sure she knew of where to get a few more.

“Thank you, General Morrison. We’re grateful for the aid. I’ll have my people try to find out what we can and once we gather enough intelligence we’ll move in on the target.”

“Good luck, Laswell,” The general said warmly, face going cold when he stared to her left. “Ghost.”

From there the screen went black. Ghost and Laswell were left discussing plans, Laswell messaging her contacts as they talked, both agreeing that they would find a way to reach out to Farah while they formed a potential team. It was all a matter of muscle memory. They sparingly used your names while they were talking. It helped to keep emotion out of it.

However, they didn’t get to remain like that for long.

They had to find the video so that Laswell could send it to her intelligence sources and as soon as they were exposed to those first few painstaking seconds, it was all so real again. This wasn’t one of their usual jobs, this was a rescue effort to save two of their own. Two of their family members, that as they were speaking, were being hurt in all manner of horrible ways just to emphasise the sincerity of Rousseau’s threats. He was so morbidly calm as he stood making his demands from in front of the horrible abuses just inches behind him.

When it came time to tell the others what was going on, Ghost and Laswell were practically as flat toned as the general. It was taking a lot for them to go through it all, to explain that at that present moment they had to sit tight and wait for transport to take them away so that they could go back to base and refresh and resupply while you and Price passed the hours in unknown amounts of agony.

No matter how matter of fact they tried to keep things, it didn’t stop König from speaking up and forcing everyone into reality. He waited until everyone had been dismissed to reappear in front of Ghost. His steps were heavy and slow, his strides purposeful as he got into the Lieutenant’s face once again.

“I want to see the video.”

“No.”

Ghost’s answer was simple, no nonsense. There was no room for discussion. He folded his arms and straightened his back, ensuring that he was able to steady himself against the bigger man’s potential attacks. Luckily for him he could see Soap and Gaz nearby should he try to start a scrap again. His personal animal control unit.

“What do you mean no?” König grit out.

“It’s not a good idea” Ghost reaffirmed. “You don’t need to see that.”

“I have to see it. I have to know what they’ve done! Show me the Video!”

“It won’t help, König,” Laswell said, appearing at Ghost’s side. “We watched it to the end and it was…it’s something that will haunt me for a long time. It was bad, but Sneak and Price don’t seem to have any permanent damage. Take that as a comfort and refrain from watching that awful thing.”

König clutched harder at the little bird inside his pocket, holding it so tightly that the beak felt like it was going to pierce a hole through him. He was so hot. Even despite the dreadful cold of the night, he felt like he was going to overheat and his limbs were going to vibrate out of their sockets.

“No permanent damage,” König repeated. “What have they done then?”

Ghost and Laswell exchanged a brief glance. The air was thick between them, like they were looking through water.

“We need to know,” Soap said, coming to stand by König. “When we find them, we’ll need to know how bad they are.”

“Soap, don’t do this,” Ghost sighed.

“He’s right,” Gaz said, taking his stand between the two parties. “Tell us what happened.”

“Or show us,” König said darkly.

Ghost glared through the dark hollows of his skull mask, it really did feel like he was the grim reaper. He was the harbinger of doom. It chilled him to have to think about the horrible sounds and the terrible things he’d seen. He even wished he had just looked away at some point, but he couldn’t, he had to force himself to face it. It was his fault they were suffering, he’d thought to himself.

“They were waterboarding them,” Ghost revealed, “beating them too.”

Everyone was quiet, taking in the information.

“That’s not all, is it?” König asked.

“They stripped them down with knives and left em’ tied up and naked on the chairs while Rousseau spoke. They posted it up on social media, the video is everywhere despite the efforts to get it deleted. They weren’t doing very well. I think Sneak had taken in a lot of water, they were covered in sick.”

König felt his palm slicken and looked down, tilting his head when he noticed his trouser pocket turn from beige to bright scarlet red. One of the swallow's wings had broken off under the stress of his grip and lodged itself splintered side down into his hand. Now he stood motionless, looking down at the mess with empty fascination. He didn’t even feel the sting of it. He couldn’t get past the sight of his blood, the same colour as the tint in his vision.

He slowly withdrew his hand and inspected the tender flesh, gently pulling the wing from his cut and depositing it back into his ruined trousers with the rest of the broken bird. From there his plasma continued to drip, a flow of bright red washing over his hands like a tiny trickling fountain.

“You said, your people are on this Laswell, yes?” König asked, not looking up to see the disconcerted stares of the 141.

“...yes,” Kate confirmed, hesitating to answer. “They’re trying to see if they can find a source or get any clues from the room they’re in.”

She was scared that this was going to König’s final tipping point. The room was too quiet, there was too much electric energy charging through the air. It felt too much like the calm before an earthquake.

“Ok,” König replied, his voice sounding far away. “I should go deal with this…I will clean this up. I will fix it. It will all get fixed”

With that he disappeared like a spectre, trailing out of the room and out into the night as if he might completely disperse into nothing. It was like watching a plastic bag float away in the wind, no one could be sure of where he was off to.

“Should one of us…y’know?” Gaz asked, directing his head toward the open doorway.

“Maybe go find Horangi and see what he says,” Ghost shrugged. “He knows König best.”

“And the rest of us?” Soap asked, feeling his own fists clench at the thought of the video.

“We rest up and wait until we can give those cunts the pincushion treatment,” Ghost said, looking down to Soap’s leg. “You think you’ll be able to heal?”

“I feel better already knowing we’ll take those fuckers down,” Soap said, a ghost of a smile playing on his face. “Payback’s gonna be a bitch.”

-☠️-

“Bloody hell.”

Your eyes snapped open and you looked over to Price, watching as he slowly rose up against the wall and struggled to right himself. Your gaze flashed off to the side as soon as the ratty old blanket that’d been draped over him started to slip. Not that you hadn’t seen what was underneath it already, at that point you were just trying to do him a courtesy.

“Good to know you haven’t left us,” you said weakly.

From out of the corner of your eye you noticed him rush to fix his blanket, the whoosh of material sweeping up his body was like music to your ears. Knowing that he had the wherewithal to cover himself seemed like a good sign. You offered him the best smile that you could, more of a grimace really, and scanned over his face. It didn’t look much better than from when he’d been sleeping. His left eye was swollen almost completely shut and his mouth was still flecked with dried bits of blood and god knows what else that had stuck to his beard.

If there was anything to be grateful for in that moment it was the fact that they’d dropped the buckets of water over you after they’d finished recording that awful video. It’d at least cleared the putrid sick from crusting into your battered bodies. Some relief. Not that it helped with the pain that pulsed through you like a lightning strike.

“Where the fuck are we?” Price groaned, spitting out a clump of phlegm to his side.

You winced.

“No idea. I only woke up maybe a few minutes ago,” you sighed. “I remember them dragging us down a hallway and then being outside…I dunno, things are spotty for me.”

Price nodded and cast his sore eyes around the cell, looking from the dark metal walls to the crackling painted floors, to the little lamp in the corner that cast long shadows from your bodies and to the few feet between you, and finally he looked to the solid door on both your right sides. He groaned then and shifted his position, almost fumbling and crashing forward as he forgot to account for the bindings on his wrists and ankles.

“Fuck me!”

You remained quiet, glueing your eyes to the floor. There was something that felt so inherently disrespectful about looking at Price when he was like that. You’d never caught him in such a moment of vulnerability before. It was like seeing your father cry.

“I think we’re on some kind of transport, a truck maybe,” you said quietly. “They probably have us on the move so that they can’t be infiltrated again.”

Price grunted, barely acknowledging you as he struggled piteously from his side of the tiny cabin.

You tested your own restraints again, peering down at the cable ties that were painfully stretching around your wrists from over the scratchy blanket. The fabric was old and stained, a faint smell of fish emanated from it that you preferred not to think too much about. Nothing about the situation gave you any hope- it seemed awfully like you were the characters in the movie that wouldn’t make it. Maybe they’d give you both a few medals for your sacrifices.

You shivered at the thought.

“Have you tried to break the ties?” Price asked, pointedly breaking you out of your stupor.

“I attempted it when I woke up, but I don’t have much strength,” you said. “My ribs feel fucked. They’ve bruised them, if they haven’t broken them all the way. Hurts to move.”

“Bloody mediaeval cunts!” Price cursed. “They must’ve been planning this for months now. We fucked ourselves listening to anything those animals had to say to us.”

“I guess we underestimated how far Rousseau was willing to go to get his brother back. All those other men too.”

“Didn’t count on a snake like him to get sentimental.”

“Well, he seems plenty sentimental. Got us back something bad for that little redecoration job we forced him to make,” you noted, seething as you tried to laugh off your predicament.

“Some upgrade he got,” Price said sourly, “Wonder how the fuck he managed to set all this up. By all rights he should barely have any men left after what we’ve done.”

“I dunno, he had a whole lot of pick up trucks and a couple transports on the move. Probably had about one hundred men still loyal to him in just that group. No telling who else he has scattered around.”

“There were other trucks? I only saw two. The one that I was chasing and the one that came up behind us. How many did you see? Matter of fact, how’d you even end up here in the first place, Sneaky?”

You held your breath - though not for long. Your lungs still dully ached from doing that too much already. At the sound of the whooshing air leaving your body and bouncing off of the metal walls, Price immediately narrowed his one good eye.

“What happened?”

“It’s…a long story,” you said quietly.

“I have time,” Price snorted, looking around the cabin for effect.

You huffed out a breath at him and clutched at your side, feeling the pain shattering up your ribs like the crack of a whip. This was it. Who knew if you were going to live to even see the end of the day. You didn’t even know what day it was, or if it was even day time at all. You were finally going to tell him the truth.

“Me, Ghost and Soap were all tracking the trucks after they blew the old base. Gaz, König and Horangi went to exfil to try and regroup with the other teams. We were all supposed to reconvene and try to find you together but...we got held down by their forces and Soap took a bad hit to his leg. I told Ghost to take him and go get the others. They didn’t make it in time though,” you said, voice cracking as you recalled the foggy events like a broken down projector.

“Why the hell would Ghost leave you by yourself against an entire force of men?” Price growled, body snapping to attention.

“Because I forced him to.”

“Why?”

“Because they can go on and do some good, they’ll be able to avenge us and keep taking down the Rousseaus of the world. I wasn’t worth saving,” you said bitterly.

“Don’t you fucking dare say that. Why the fuck would you say that, Sneak?”

The look in his eyes was enough to shatter a million hearts. His anger could’ve melted the walls down, it beat so palpably between you both. It only made you hang your head in shame to think you were going to disappoint him. To think that that fierce protectiveness was going to be overridden by disgust.

You couldn’t keep lying to him anymore. You couldn’t leave the world weighed down by your secret.

“Because I was only going to be kicked off the team after this mission. I…I went against your orders. I’ve been seeing König for months now. The guys found out about the relationship. It wasted time and caused an argument that could’ve got us killed if we’d hung around the base much longer. I fucked up Price, I went against my word to you and I’ve only gone and gotten us killed! This is all my fault!”

You threw your head against the metal behind you, feeling the tears weigh you down like canon balls and sobbed. No matter how pathetic you felt, you were at a complete loss of control. Everything hurt, your throat constricted and dried like sand, the noises you emitted were barely human.

It was all crashing down on you, the full weight of your cursed fate coming to fall on your lap.

This was all you deserved for going behind the team's back. You were probably going to die a slow horrible death, getting thrown in front of camera after camera until there wouldn’t be enough of you left to send back home. Every piece of you would be ripped away by whatever dark hole they chose to make a stop at, until you would become another part of the world’s fabric. Another soul for someone with willing hands to take.

Even despite that horrible line of thought, the thing that hurt you most was knowing that König would remember your last moments together spent in bitterness, and that would be all he’d have to hold onto. He’d think that you had turned on him again, he would be so full of hatred for what you’d done to him. You’d burst down his walls only to go and reinforce exactly why he’d had them in the first place. You wished you’d told him more than just that you’d loved him. You wished you could tell him that despite everything that had happened, he was worth it all, you loved every second that he shared himself with you.

You would still rather walk willingly to your death a thousand times than put König or anyone else at risk.

“...Sneaky. Hey! Are you listening to me…fuckin’ hell. Oi! Sneaky!”

Price’s voice somehow managed to break through the impassable swell of your emotion and soon his face was in front of yours, demanding to be looked at. You felt yourself frown, sniffling as you wondered how on earth he’d managed to shuffle all the way over to you in his condition. Even with his hands and feet tied, and his vision probably barely there, he had launched himself over to you and exploded through the barrier of your guilt.

“Listen to me. Breathe. In and out. In and out. Breathe with me! In and out. In and out…”

You gulped sickened gasps of air and tasted the salt of Price’s body in the back of your throat. It didn’t matter though. You didn’t care that he, and probably you, fucking stank. It was just nice to have him there, bringing you back from the brink of a full on mental collapse.

The same mental voice that had coached you through your torture, was the same that gruffly directed you now. Price always had your back. He didn’t let any of his soldiers go easily, and he had always tried to do his best for you. Even if you had spited him for keeping you from König, he was always going to be the man that felt like another father to you.

“Sneak, do you really think that this is your fault?” Price asked, finally breaking from his instructional regime. “Do you think it really matters to me who you’ve been shagging right now? I need you to stay on the level with me here Sneak, you’re not to blame for any of this happening.”

“Why?” you asked, coughing harshly as your throat tried to adjust.

“Why aren’t you to blame?”

“No, why aren’t you angry with me?” you wheezed.

You could hardly believe it. Your Captain was perched in front of you, a blanket barely covering his battered skin, and he was telling you that he was ok with the fact that you deliberately disobeyed an order. Had the torturers knocked a screw loose after all? You gawped him as if to convey just that.

“We might very well die here. I’m not going to waste my last moments angry with you. Especially when the reason I warned you off of that man in the first place, was in case he got you killed…It already happened once. I already lost Alex to love on the field, I didn’t want to lose you too, not to a man with enemies in the numbers of god knows what. Now you’re trapped here with me because you were too stuck on your own guilt to save yourself. You didn’t fail me or anyone else. I failed you, Sneak,” Price affirmed, bowing his head in shame.

The rough spikes of his hair were glistening and the skin on the back of his neck was washed out by the pale white light. He looked like a ghost of himself already. You shivered and bit the flesh inside your cheek, trying to process everything that he’d said.

Had you really been absolved? Just like that?

“Captain…”

He slowly lifted his head up and offered you a small smile, his grime speckled moustache lifting cartoonishly with it. You found yourself choking back your stupid tears and smiled at him in return, relaxing into the wall and soon into Price as he ambled to the wall and laid back with you, settling into your side.

“On the off chance we do find a way to survive this, I need you with me, Sneak,” Price said, his hoarse voice buzzing through you. “You can’t check out on me, ok?”

“Is that an order, sir?” you deadpanned.

“Affirmative. And If you go against this one, just know that my Ghost is going to make your ghost move puddles and dig ditches in the afterlife. Got that sergeant?”

“Loud and clear, sir.”

-☠️-

“Do you understand what you’ve done! You are sending your precious special forces to their deaths! Know this; fellow brothers and sisters around the world,” Rousseau shouted, his voice booming off the dour cement walls. “Your government does not care about you, it is you the people that must rise up from nothing and take what is rightfully yours. I will continue to take down your soldiers until you give me back my family and allow us to take our territories without interference. Let's see how many deaths it will take until your governments take us seriously, uh!”

You winced as Rousseau grabbed you by the neck, though you could barely summon the strength to fight back. He’d taken you out from the transport and into dark deserted buildings more times than you’re sure that you can accurately collect. There was so little of you left anymore, you could barely hold onto your promise to Price. That last blow would be the one that ended you.

You cast a weary eye over to Price, tilting your head slightly to your left, watching him as he struggled to stay upright. He’d been wheezing for days now. There was a time you’d become convinced he’d already died on you. You couldn’t really remember when that was. They hardly fed you or allowed you to drink. They didn’t want to deal with the toilet trips - or the open bucket trips more like.

You’d both held on far longer than what you might’ve predicted, but now your time had run out.

You’d kept Price entertained with your stories about König, tried to force him to stay awake. After telling him a little about your relationship, they started flowing out of you like a great epic. You'd told him about the time you’d made him wear a bright floral surgical mask after he’d lost a bet to you, and then an old lady had approached him to say how stylish he was. You’d laughed till you’d fallen into a coughing fit when you remembered him surprising you back at your little apartment that you shared together with a rose in his mouth, and you’d had to clean the blood after he forgot to remove a thorn - he’d moaned for days about his stupid cut lip. You’d melted at the thought of him hugging you tightly after, not telling Price that König had huffed out to you in a pathetic whimper, telling you that he was sad he couldn’t kiss you with his mouth so sore.

Oh, König.

You whined, closing your eyes as you watched Rousseau arcing his thick metal bar high above you. Rousseau was ready to strike, this was really it. For both of you. He was going to make Price watch his Sergeant die and then he would surely be next.

You zoned out, falling back into the dark recesses of your mind.

Even if he was far away, it felt like König’s lips were whispering quietly in your ears. His spirit was with you, even if his form was elsewhere utterly devastated.

Think of better things. Think of me, Schnuckiputzi, and how you’d threaten to slap me for calling you that. I love you.

There’s nowhere you can be sent to that I won’t find a way to reach you.

Just keep your eyes closed and think of me.

Next Part Here

#König #König x reader #könig fanfiction #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare fanfiction #mw2 #konig #konig x reader #a rocky start

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the-main-daine · 4 days ago

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Life Series Render Designs:

With a new life series upon us, I've dusted off my tablet to try my hand at solidifying how I draw each of the 18 lifers.

I'm going to post them in bursts of 3, with notes if there are any notes.

Today, we have Bdubs, BigB, and Cleo!

Bdubs!

Human Design. (Not all of them will be!)

I wanted to capture the essence of Bdubs being just a li'l guy.

Rounded shoulders, rounded face, rounded body shape; BDubs is friend-shaped.

His expressiveness is one of the most fun parts of the character, and since I drew him first, he's why all of these have three expressions in addition to the full body.

I know bandages aren't part of his skins, but I feel like they fit the vibe.

BigB!

Also a human design!

Tall, broad-shouldered, and handsome.

VERY tired eyes, in my head BigB has seen some Things(tm) that are starting to weigh on him, hence the blood splatter on his skin.

He also always seems both so sweet and easy to sympathize with, and also so sarcastic and so good at sowing doubt with just tone of voice, I'd be doing him a disservice not to include both of those in his facial expressions.

His hair was super fun to draw. I DO not know if I'm interpreting that neckline right.

I need to draw Creaking BigB once I'm done with this set.

Cleo!

A Zombie, obviously. (Though I will need to draw the zombie apocalypse survivor at least once.)

Her mad, scary rage when she throws caution to the wind is honestly some of my favorite stuff to watch in the Life Series.

As the winner of Real Life, she gets a crown! And Jupiter, to honor her win.

This design is so colorful, and so bright, but I couldn't resist adding a few extra things like the yellowing eyes and teeth.

I am definitely a fan of 'Big Cleo' designs. She has too much of a belly laugh not to draw her larger than life.

#Life Series #Life Series SMP #Life Series Fanart #BDubs #Bdubs Fanart #BdoubleO100 #BigB Fanart #bigbst4tz2 #Zombie Cleo Fanart #ZombieCleo #My Art #Life Series Renders #Queued Post

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mayasaurusss · 1 month ago

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Day fourteen: "Why don't you take that mask off? I want to see your face".

Your friend had the brilliant idea of going to the haunted house at the local fair. Something that you'd rather not do, but there was no hope in changing her mind.

"I don't want to go in there!" you cling at her shoulder, nails digging into her clothes. She swats you hand away, looking behind her to see how you look like a sad, scared puppy.

"We can't always stay at your home! And we can't always hang out at the kid's section of the fair! It's embarrassing".

You enter inside the haunted house: no one greets you, not the manager nor the scare actors. There's only darkness and old junk scattered on the floor. Given that there is no one around, the house results in less scary and more nerve wrecking.

You look into every corner to see if someone or something is lurking, waiting to strike; but there is nothing.

"Ugh...boring..." your friend's voice echoes inside the dark hall, far too loud. "I don't know how you can manage to find this boring. I am pissing myself over here" you walk closely behind her, tugging at her clothes.

Suddenly something shifts, your friend is yanked away from your grasp by something and you're left alone inside the hallway. "Where are you?!"

"I- -ver -ere-!". You can't make out the rest of her words; her voice is small and far from you.

Now, you are all alone. You can't see anything, can't hear anything, can't find a way back or forward. But then, a small huff of air tickles the skin of your neck, and you realize that it's someone's breath.

The person behind you huffs and puffs, like a rabid animal. Their breath echoes inside something, so you assume they must wear a mask.

A part of your brain tries to rationalize what is happening, but it's no use: you are inside a dark hallway, without knowledge of how to get out, with someone who is clearly stronger and faster than you and who God knows what could do to you.

You show them away, feeling their body fall to the ground and a grunt leaves their lips, before you run away, hearing their steps echo loudly behind you.

After bumping many times into corners and dead ends, you found a room to hide in. You can vaguely see the shape of a closet, a desk and an old bed frame. You hide under the desk, listening for any sounds.

After what feels like an eternity, the door creaks and someone enters. They are searching for you, stalking.

Their feet bump against something, the closet. The sound of metal scraping on the floor is loud and hurts your ears, the bed frame. Finally, you can see their black boots from under your hiding post, the desk. It's moved with surprising strength, now pushed to the right as you are left vulnerable.

They are wearing pitch black clothes, making them almost look invisible in the darkness of the room. You can only see their mask: torn apart eyes, coupled with a horrible full teeth smile. They stare at you, unmoving. They are wielding something, a knife maybe, but you can't understand if it's real or not.

Suddenly they are on top of you, pressing against your crotch and using one of their hands to hold up yours. You'd lie if you'd say you aren't terrified, but there is something weird about all of this. Mainly the fact that you can hear their labored breath and feel them squirming on top of you.

They look almost... turned on?

Maybe they're just tired from the run, maybe they are kinda turned on by you, but you will use this to your advantage. You lean into them, whispering in their ear, "Why don't you take that mask off? I'd like to see your face?".

They let go of you as if you have burnt them, their knife falling on the floor. You wriggle out of their grasp and run, exiting the room and leaving them behind.

Shauna yanks her mask off and leans on the wall, catching her breath. She must've been such a weirdo to get turned on by this little chase of yours, but she couldn't help it; you looked so good under her. She pushes her hair back with her fingers, dries her sweat off before sighing loudly. How is she supposed to go back to work now?

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #shauna shipman x reader #shauna shipman x you #halloween writing prompts #fictober

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tomkaulitzssgirl · 1 year ago

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OMG HOW ABOUT VAMPIRE BILL X FEM READER??! I LOVE YOUR WRITING ❤️❤️

VAMPIRE | BILL KAULITZ

“y/n, c’mon! don’t just stand there!” your friend, ashley, yelled at you while laughing as you were entering the club.

it was halloween night, everyone was danced as something spooky for the night, there was not really a them as long as it was scary and sexy.

you were dressed like sally from the nightmare before christmas, your favourite cartoon.

“i’m coming!” you answered and followed them, looking back as you ran.

you had been having this weird feeling all night, like something was following you, watching you.

maybe you were just paranoid since it was halloween, but you didn’t feel at ease.

this feeling never left even when you were on the dance floor dancing and trying to take you mind off things.

“girl what’s wrong?” your friend asked you, noticing your body language, it was obvious something was wrong.

“i-i don’t know i feel like…i-i don’t know it’s just we-“ as soon as you were about to explain, the lights cut out and the music stopped.

everyone gasped and some people began booing the dj, even though it wasn’t his fault.

you felt more confused than ever, this didn’t help your uneasiness, it only made you think that something was wrong.

as you tried to understand and talk to people around you about it, you swore you felt hands on your hips.

a hot breath was on your neck and soon this stranger’s lips were there too. they were soft at first but then you felt something hard getting into your skin, something like teeth.

did this fucker just bite you?

as you went to touch the spot on your neck, the lights and music started again. you turned around to yell at the pervert that was behind you, but there were just two girls dancing.

your eyebrows connected and you looked around, trying to spot someone who looked at least a little bit suspicious, but no one was paying attention to you.

you hissed touching the bite on your neck, “ashley, do i have a mark here? some fucker bit me.”

your friend looked at your neck and shook her head, “no, you have nothing. be careful though, don’t go far away from me.”

you just nodded and sighed, “alright, imma just go to the bathroom, can you come with me and maybe wait outside?”

your friend nodded and you began walking towards the ladies bathroom. you entered as she stood outside like a bodyguard, but what you didn’t think about was how ashley was easily distracted.

a guy with dreads came up to her, starting to flirt and soon she forgot about you inside that damn bathroom, going with him god knows where.

you looked at yourself into the mirror and gasped at the sight of two perfectly shaped teeth on your skin. why did ashley say you had nothing when you clearly had a mark?

you scoffed and washed over the mark with a disgusted face. just the thought of a stranger’s saliva on you made you puke.

“it’s useless.” suddenly a voice said right behind you. but…there was no one on the mirror.

“am i hearing stuff now?” you commented out loud with a sigh.

again, that same voice laughed, making you jump when a figure appeared next to you.

he was tall, had black spiky hair and was all dressed in black, even his make up was black. he was leaning against the wall with a smirk on his face.

“who the fuck are you?! how did you get in here?!” you yelled out backing away from him.

“woah slow down.” the boy chuckled, shaking his head, “too many questions, i don’t like questions. just know that since you have that.” he pointed at your neck, “now you’re mine.”

your head felt dizzy, like you were drunk but you didn’t even have a drink yet.

“what are you talking about? are you high?” you rolled your eyes and decided to ignore him, walking towards the door.

you went to open it but the boy appeared infront of you with an insane speed. “not so fast, baby.”

you took some steps back, hitting the sink with your back. “h-how did you do t-that?” you stuttered, your eyes fixed on him, ready to catch any movement.

the guy folded his arms against his chest and walked towards you slowly, checking you out up and down before making eye contact with you again. “i’m a vampire and soon you’ll be one too.”

his words left you speechless, your jaw hanging open. after some seconds you let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head. “yeah, you’re high.”

he continued to look at you before grabbing your jaw and kissing you deeply, without you even realising it. “i’ll see you again, y/n.”

the lights turned off again and as soon as you opened your eyes, he disappeared.

you looked around carefully before standing infront of the mirror, looking at your neck. “what the fuck just happened?” you whispered to yourself.

after some hours, you were ready to go home with ashley, she was talking about how a guy named tom kissed her and how much she loved him now. you rolled your eyes and helped her inside the taxi, she was so drunk.

you both arrived at your house since you lived together and slowly you were able to bring her inside and then put her in her bed. you took her make up off for her but decided to let her sleep in her dress, too tired to do anything else.

you sighed, coming in you room and closing the door behind you. you changed, took your make up off and you were ready to sleep.

around 5 am, you woke up suddenly, sitting up on your bed. something felt different. you felt…changed?

like something inside you had just switched.

you tried to shook that off but then you walked to the bathroom and as you passed the mirror you took a quick glance at yourself. you stopped in your tracks, your eyes widened as you looked better.

your skin was pale, you looked like you were dead. the bite on your neck disappeared, your eyes had an intensity that they didn’t have before. you touched your face with your fingers, it was cold. so cold.

and your heart ached for something. someone.

you gulped down, not wanting to be crazy and think about what that boy had said at the club.

that boy…that you were longing for so suddenly. you didn’t know why, but you felt like you had known him for years, you missed him, wanting to feel his touch again.

you walked out of the door lost in your thoughts, but a voice made you jump up.

“hey baby.”

you looked at the figure that was standing in your bed, seeing the guy from the bathroom. your eyes lighted up and a sudden happiness took over you.

you ran and hugged him, kissing his cheek over and over. he laughed wrapping his arms around your waist. he was so big, literally taking over your whole body.

“i see it worked already.” he said in your ear, before grabbing your chin and making you look at him.

“w-what worked?” you tilted your head to the side.

“i told you, you’re mine now. you didn’t believe me when i said that soon you would’ve been one of us. the kiss i gave you made you fall in love with me, the bite turned you exactly like me.” he explained stroking your hair.

you should’ve been mad at his words, totally furious that he made you into something you didn’t even know existed. but in reality, you couldn’t care less.

you smiled at him, a huge smile, happily taking in his words. “take me with you then.”

the guy nodded kissing you on your lips over and over, “let’s go then. your best friend is coming too.” he said, signing with his eyes the door of your bedroom.

there she was, standing next to a boy with dreads. “ready?” he asked.

you and your guy both nodded, getting up from the bed.

ashley looked at you giggling, before hugging you.

as you walked to the door, he held your hand tightly, almost as if he was scared you changed your mind.

“hey.” you called out, breaking the silence.

“what?”

“what’s your name?”

he chuckled as he opened the car’s door for you.

“bill, my name’s bill.”

hope you like it!!!🖤

#tokio hotel #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz #fandom #fanfic #masterlist #writing #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz imagines #tokio hotel bill kaulitz

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darkhymns-fic · 7 months ago

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Uninvited (wip)

Not one damn minute passed as the rich melody played before something in the beat just skipped. And kept skipping. And then, even fizzling.

Husk opened his eyes, saw the light flickering even more—and then turn red.

“Oh, not fucking now.”

He looked to the side, and already he saw a familiar grinning shade, one that poked at the shadow of the vinyl player that was cast against the wall. It kept playing with the record needle, poking and prodding it like a child. Husk growled and got to his feet.

“Hey! This is my space! I thought we agreed on that!”

But a bunker can’t keep out the Radio Demon, who could slip past steel and concrete like black mist. And such black mist was already curling around Husk’s feet, already wisping about his tail, touching it and making it flick.

Husk gritted his teeth, but already the mist took shape. Alastor leaned down, microphone cane held behind his back as the record finally played more smoothly again.

“Husker, my friend. Were you going to keep such lovely music to yourself?”

The red light played over Alastor’s face, casting shadows down his cheeks, highlighting the small antlers on top of his head, making them curl and writhe. Something about that light also made his grin look even wider than it was, which only spiked Husk’s anger. He craned his neck up to glare at the demon who didn’t even bother to knock.

“You.”

“And indeed it is! How fortunate to know you are not struck blind by your drinking habits again!” Alastor twirled his cane in hand, straightening his back as if to emphasize their height difference and piss off Husk more. “Am I interrupting anything?”

It was just the usual shit all over again—Alastor dropping in on the most inconvenient times, especially during the middle of an Extermination. But just as Husk was about to curse him out again, he did notice something was…off.

Alastor’s smile wasn’t quite right.

“Yeah,” he finally settled on saying. The walls rumbled again, fucking with the light to finally lose its red tint, as well as Alastor’s manic expression. “I was just going to relax until you showed up. If you think I’m up for doing another of your stupid jobs right now, you’re even more fucked in the head than I thought.”

Alastor laughed, his neck craning to the side and his eyes just slightly popping out for that Halloween-scary effect he so loved to do. But the laugh lasted just a bit too long, and the pitch was also somewhat tight.

Husk hated to admit it, but he’d gotten used to Alastor’s tells so much that he could see when something changed.

“My, just how lowly do you think of me?” He kept the laughter going, cackling out his lungs before he finally let the sound fade, taking in a wistful breath. “No, no, I only came here to check up on my dear companion on this eventful night and see that he hasn’t drunk himself to death! It’s good to see my fears were entirely unfounded this time!”

Husk’s right ear flicked, feeling an irritating itch at his fur. “So you’re just doing some wellness check on me?” Why would Alastor even bother himself with that?

“Mm, you could say that. But that just sounds so clinical.” Alastor placed the end of the cane right next to Husk’s foot, leaning down again, enough that his hair draped with the motion. His mouth was just at Husk's ear. “I merely just wanted to see you.”

It was never just that.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #husk #radiohusk #fanfiction #wip #part of this radiohusk sickfic but it's a flashback scene #because I love making things longer!

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lustrous-dawn · 2 months ago

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“So, Reiko took you out? Just like that?” Zhen said, astonished. He never grasped what he was truly capable of. His encounters with Ho-oh were nearly non-existent. The brief encounter with Harumi didn't teach him much either, only that his kind came in different shapes and colors.

“She had the element of surprise.” Was Caelus chagrin? The Rayquaza carefully shifted his face, not fully facing the mirror nor the Ho-oh. “Both she and Susano were admittedly more coordinated than I anticipated,” he remarked. It was hard to miss the notes of admiration in his voice. Even now as he watched the events play out, the dragon had a slight smile on his face. “I have never seen a better working pair of counterparts. They put my own to shame and were functioning perfectly fine without my assistance. It truly was harmony I have never seen.”

“You miss them, don’t you.”

Caelus stirred, his smile wiped clean as he became stoic once more. “If events hadn’t played out as they had, we would still be friends. Unfortunately, fate had other plans in store for us.”

With deep grooves between the eyes, Zhen muttered, “I’m sorry.”

“You had no part in it. You have nothing to feel sorry but I appreciate the sympathy no less.”

“You said they were working well together right? Tell me about that.” The thought of working along with his own made his heart clenched. What if he fucked things up? He always watched afar Ginjiro handling his duties with such confidence and finesse. He never wanted to chance to be in the middle of it and potentially ruin things. “Did they always agree on things? Did they argue?”

“Many questions, I see,” a short laugh from Caelus. “No, no, this is good. You need to ask this.”

Zhen stared at him. Why did he ever think of him as scary? Once you got past the enormous body of his, and sharp teeth, Caelus was… calm? He didn’t know how else to describe it. He was one of the wildest creatures he ever met but the level of safety he felt around was immense.

“The two always bickered. Very strong in their morals and opinions. I had never met such headstrong creatures akin to myself. They argued whether they should kill me or not for intruding upon their territory while I laid beneath her weight,” he said, his eye dancing. How Caelus found this humorous, Zhen could not fathom. Maybe some old god thing. “Susano found my presence too threatening, rightly so, while Reiko hoped I could be reasoned with. They needed help, you see. They created a set of islands all for themselves and-”

“They created islands!?” Zhen sputtered. Just how strong were they?!

“Why, yes,” Caelus spoke as if this was common. “They wanted a safer location to retreat to, away from the growing populous of humans. Humans were on the rise then. Perhaps Uxie gifted them a boon and they used that knowledge to progress further than I anticipated but the pair wanted seclusion.”

“They created Johto?”

A faint glow to Caelus’ eye. “When I say they were both powerful, they truly were. The one grace we have is, that such power is no longer needed in this day and age.”

“Well, did you agree?”

The dragon smiled, “What do you think?” Words containing a hint of mystery as he faced the mirror.

_________________________________________

“I believe we won,” Reiko said, beak smugly in the air.

“And I owe you *!?* nothing,” A young Caelus spat in the likes of this Lugia and Ho-oh. Writhing beneath her form, the Rayquaza managed to slither himself free from her weight only to hiss, “You deployed underhand tricks! I would hardly call the battle we had to be fair and worthy of a boon!” A sharp look to the Lugia. “As a dragon, I believed you to have more integrity.”

Nostrils flared, the leviathan approached with a tick in his jaw. “My heritage means nothing.” It came out harsh, a snarl. “How were we to know you had no ill intentions? In our territory?”

“If I had the intention to smite either of you, I would have done so without question.” Damn, his curiosity to investigate the unknown energy. Yet he felt something kindred with the beasts, the radiant one in particular. A warmth emitted from her akin to the sun he always bathed under at leisure. While the silver one reminded him of the storms he conjured at will, untamed and wild. “I have no interest in staking claim on these lands. I have plenty to deal with than your latest creations.”

The pair looked at each other. He knew by their eyes some type of communication was transpiring. Caelus’ lip raised, “Discussing in private makes you no less trustworthy than I do to you.”

The ho-oh mulled over his words. Then she began to shake with a laugh, startling the likes of her compatriot. “You are quite right! I apologize! It’s been so long since we had a conversation with someone.” Then she lowered into a bow.

“Sun!” barked the Lugia

“Oh hush, old Storm. We were getting no way with us bickering. I’m going to” -she held a wing to her beak- “Leave it to the winds, I say.”

“You cannot be serious! He can come for our throats, to kill us!”

“And he hasn’t done that, now has he?” She looked at the Rayquaza, her eyes unwavering. “Please help us. I want my lands to thrive like those around us. Please help a pair of fools who know nothing.”

#Plot #Caelus #Susano #Zhen #Reiko #A Tales as Old as Time #*

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munacy · 2 years ago

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Trials and Tribulations of Sorts

@wolfstarmicrofic

For the prompt: dubious

Cross-posted to ao3 with minor edits: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44490901

Remus Lupin is running an experiment.

That is the word he’s settled on, because this thing, this thing he’s doing has changed shape a few times now. But it’s gone on long enough, and he finds himself desperate for an explanation.

It had started like this:

Remus had moved into Sirius’ flat straight after Hogwarts. It had not taken as much cajoling as one might expect. He agreed with Sirius that it was practical, and, beyond that, he relished the idea of always being near his best friend. Not that he would ever admit that. Not very manly.

Constantly being in each other’s company was fine. Actually, no, it was not fine, it was lovely. They tried wines together (James made fun of them endlessly for it). They told each other scary stories after dark (Remus’ were terrifying, Sirius’ were goofy). Sirius would come home from work exhausted and ranting, and Remus would commiserate with him over whatever new and awful thing That Bitch Geraldine had done. Remus would study old Arithmancy tomes late into the night for his fellowship, and Sirius would keep him quiet company until he inevitably fell asleep slumped over Remus’ desk and Remus would tentatively stroke his hair.

They made each other tea and coffee in the morning, and Remus would sit on one end of the sofa with a novel, and Sirius would sprawl out on the other end, holding a crossword, and sometimes the very tip of Sirius’ socked foot would be touching Remus’ thigh, and that would make Remus’ heart start to beat like a hummingbird’s wings and cause him all manner of confusion, but that, too, was lovely.

That was not the issue. The issue was that they didn’t know how to cook.

Cleaning was fine, after a rocky start. Mrs. Potter gave them a battered copy of Basic Household Spells and thereafter they lived in a state of comfortably cluttered cleanliness.

Cooking, however, was far more advanced, and in many ways, magical cooking was trickier and more dangerous than the Muggle way. Sirius, being a lazy aristocrat, gave it up as a bad job. Remus gave a few halfhearted attempts, but found that his lack of aptitude for potions was well-translated to cooking, much to his (and his stomach’s) misfortune. They survived largely on takeout until Remus put his foot down.

I can learn how to cook, he thought to himself, It’s unbecoming for a man to be so helpless.

So he made an omelet. A horrible, horrible omelet. It was clear upon first bite that the flavor was completely wrong, parts of the egg were runny and parts of it were somehow burnt, and there was more than a little shell crunching between his teeth. It was the worst omelet anyone had ever eaten in history.

“Wow, delicious, Moons!”

Remus turned to glare at him, assuming Sirius was taking the piss. But no, Sirius was wolfing the omelet down, eggshell and all, and giving him a heartbreaking smile.

What the fuck? Maybe because he’s a dog, he likes eggshells, he had thought wonderingly.

Thus began the experimentation.

Formulation of Research Question

Remus starts cooking with regularity, each time deeply curious about Sirius’ reaction. He tries his hand at simple pastas, curries, stir fries, and more. He fails spectacularly in new and creative ways each time. One time, he causes a small fire.

No one could possibly enjoy this, he thinks resolutely, making great effort to continue chewing his rubbery half-burnt roast chicken.

And yet, Sirius does. Or pretends to, if his pained smile is anything to go by. The mystery turns Remus to frustrated musings.

Why is he pretending?

Characterizing the Phenomenon

He decides to see how far he can take this.

The scholar in him claims that he’s simply trying to gather as much evidence as possible. But, honestly, he’s just pranking Sirius. It’s fun.

Every day, despite having limited free time, he spends an hour or more making increasingly dubious and varied entrees. He makes a Shepherd’s Pie and purposely forgets the gravy and cheese. He dumps half of shaker of salt into a dehydrated mushroom risotto. He grills steaks that achieve accolades far beyond the pale of a mere “well done”.

Possibly the biggest insult occurs the day he prepares a beautiful-looking coq au vin, a classic French dish for his classic French friend who was bred with classic French cooking, with Moscato instead of a dry red wine.

“Oh, Moony, now this looks incredible!” Sirius crows with real enthusiasm. Remus leers at him as he takes a bite. And waits.

“Just as I thought,” says Sirius, a little weakly. He would have sounded normal to anyone else, but Remus knows him far better. The next part he says much more warmly, earnestly: “I hope you never stop cooking for me.”

Controlled Trials

Remus has a theory. He has a theory, and it’s one that makes his stomach flip inside-out (no, no, in a way that is completely unrelated to his godawful cooking), makes his heart pound, and deliciously terrifies him. A theory supported by the way Sirius has become his favorite food critic, but also in other ways.

It’s the way Sirius looks at him after full moons, like he’s hurting just as badly. It’s the way Sirius surprises him with his favorite chocolates (the ones with the surprise salted-caramel center). It’s the way Sirius helps Remus up the stairs with an arm tenderly around his waist when he’s had too much wine, and, after Remus is under the covers of his bed, the way Sirius’ hands rest on his forearms for a few moments too long, like he doesn’t want to leave.

He has this theory that’s driving him insane with sleepless nights. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if it’s correct.

But first, he needs more evidence.

Trial #1:

They are having friends over for dinner, as adults, or those pretending, are wont to do.

Remus is cooking.

He is making a classic Indian dish: masala dosa. He does not ferment the batter—he considers that to be a friendly suggestion by the recipe. He does not touch a single bottle of spice. He considers those friendly suggestions too. It is the worst dish he’s ever made.

As they dine, Lily attempts to be discreet about her gagging. It is not discreet. Peter frowns outright and slowly pushes away his plate. And James....well James is tearing into him.

“How dare you!” James spits with a vitriol that’s never before been directed been directed at Remus. “Moony, you weirdly insisted on cooking for all of us, and it’s like you tried to make it awful and disrespect my ancestors. My mum used to make masala dosa for Sirius and I whenever we were off term as a special treat, did you know that? It’s our favorite food and you fucking butchered it.”

Remus feels a bit bad, but not very. Effie Potter is alive and well, and soon enough, will surely make her darling little princelings food so delicious, it will wipe away any memory of Remus’ nightmare dinner party. Instead he looks at Sirius across the table, who has been staring at him this whole time.

“Padfoot? What did you think?”

“Well...Jamie, I get why it’s not your cup of tea,” Sirius starts haltingly, “it’s very different from Effie’s recipe...but also very unique. I loved it.”

Everyone stares at Sirius, who, by all means, looks guileless.

Later, no one can figure out why, after being told in no uncertain terms by three of his closest friends that his dish unequivocally sucked, Remus is grinning so broadly.

Trial #2:

“Lily, please.”

“No. Why would anyone want this?”

“Lily,” Remus pleads, “You’re my best friend.”

She raises a red brow at him.

“Best girl friend,” he amends.

She sighs. “Just tell me why you would possibly want this. I’ll be so embarrassed if I do this.”

Remus bites his lip. “I can’t tell you. But I really need this. There’s a good reason for it and I promise it’s not a prank.”

“Certainly not. Pranks have a punchline.”

“Please? I never ask you for anything.”

“Remus, that is not even remotely true.”

Sensing he is losing, he attempts to recreate Padfoot’s signature puppy eyes.

“Urghh! Alright, I’ll do it if you stop doing whatever it is you’re doing; it looks like it hurts.”

She invites everyone over for dinner, as adults, such as Lily, who was born with an adult-brain, are wont to do.

She follows a steak and kidney pie recipe that Remus had insisted on her using. Only, instead of using kidney, she uses nearly raw whale liver. The liver is swimming in a revolting pool of its own juices. When interrogated about this later, she blinks innocently, saying, “I thought the organs were interchangeable?”

Remus is too tense to eat as he listens to the plates being set down. Barely a moment passes before Sirius’ voice is booming: “EVANS! What the fuck is this!? It tastes like dogshit! I would know!”

Remus’ heart explodes with joy.

Trial #3:

The definition of insanity, some have said, is doing the same thing over and over while expecting different results. Remus wonders if there’s any folksy wisdom about doing something differently every single time and always achieving the same result.

A month after the Liver-Pool fiasco, Sirius sits across from Remus at their little dining room table, his face lit up by dancing candlelight—candles lit by Remus—a small smile playing about his mouth as he eats dinner, dinner that Remus has cooked.

“It’s delicious, Moony. As usual. I’ve missed these dinners with you.” Sirius’ mouth twists sadly as if recalling the past month of Remus’ unusual absences and nausea-free meals.

“Padfoot...I made paella with popcorn shrimp, anchovies, and basil...and you think it’s delicious?”

Sirius gapes for a moment but recovers: “I do! I think it’s unusual but wonderful...I like…things like that.”

Sirius takes a seemingly nervous gulp of his red wine (purposely paired incorrectly).

“Sirius,” Remus says softly, “Are you in love with me?”

Sirius chokes on his wine and it spills all over his trousers. Alarmed, Remus runs over, slapping Sirius’ back as he coughs violently. Only, in the process, he upsets more of the wine in Sirius’ hand, causing Remus to leap, grab a kitchen towel, and rub it roughly all over Sirius’ stained thighs. He jolts the moment he realizes exactly what he’s doing. Sirius is staring down at his kneeling form with wide eyes. Both of their cheeks are flushed a lovely port color.

Catching his breath after his coughing fit, Sirius whispers, “Why would you ask me such a thing?”

“Because,” he whispers as well, even though his throat should be in perfect condition, “you keep pretending to like my awful food.”

Sirius sputters. “You’re a great cook! I like your food!”

“Pads, absolutely no one likes my food,” Remus murmurs gently but firmly. “No one.”

Sirius’ eyes suddenly become over-bright. He says nothing.

“Listen...if you did...love me,” Remus says slowly, trying to deliberate his words, “Honestly, that would be...fine. That would be fine.”

“’Fine’?” Sirius mutters bitterly. Now his tears really do spill over. Remus catches them with his thumbs on instinct...and leaves his palms on either side of Sirius’ face.

“No,” he swallows decisively. “Not fine. That would be lovely. That would be the most lovely, wonderous thing that has ever happened or will ever happen to me, and I’d be—just—Sirius, I’d be so happy.”

Hope and disbelief war on Sirius’ face.

“I’m serious,” Remus insists, uncurling out of his kneeling position to stand over him.

“No, you’re Remus, I’m--”

He stamps his lovely wine-stained mouth with a hard kiss, both hands desperately clutching Sirius’ face. Sirius immediately curls his fingers into Remus’ hair and pulls him in closer by his shirtfront. His mouth opens, and Remus thinks deliriously, Oh God. God, that’s his tongue and he tastes like basil and red wine and magic.

One of his hands trails down to clutch at the very top of Sirius’ thigh and Sirius lets out a funny, tiny, little sound, and it makes Remus smile against his mouth. They’re panting when they finally break apart.

“I have something to confess,” Remus begins breathlessly. “I’ve learned to cook, at least a few things, that are really good now. That’s where I’ve been all month, at the Potter’s, trying to learn some of the dishes you grew up with. I’ve got masala dosa keeping warm in the oven, and it’s actually good this time, I promise. Effie showed me how.”

Sirius stares at him. “That’s a good thing, Moony, because your cooking was truly atrocious.”

“I know.”

“I mean it, utter dogshit.”

“I know.”

“Paella without any saffron? Who does that?”

“I know.”

Sirius hesitates. “I still love you madly though.”

Remus smiles shyly. “I know. I love you madly, too.”

FIN

#wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #microfic #LOL is it really tho??#this got away from me #sorry #fluff #fluff and humor #cooking #dubious #masala dosa #shepherds pie #mushroom risotto #coq au vin #well done steak #steak and kidney pie #seafood paella #i had so much fun figuring out how to screw up all of the wonderful and classic dishes

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crystlizabeth · 2 years ago

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Cute lil’ thing ain't you..

Neville Longbottom x Black!femreader Slytherin

Short!

Warnings: teasing, Not proofread!

It wasn't often you found yourself looking over at the Gryffindor table, just for the back they annoyed most of them anyway. Nonetheless, you found yourself looking at a tall white boy who caught your eye. He was a shy little thing well not little he towered over so many people.

“You're staring again.” your friend said.

“How could you not look at him he's fine, would mind me a piece of him.” you spoke ending with a giggle, watching the girl roll her eyes at your comment.

“Girl be fuckin real he's probably scared of you, the poor kitty probably thinks you’re gonna eat him alive.” she taunted eyeing you.

You only glared at her but she was right, you felt as if he were afraid of you in a way but it didn't stop you from purposely sitting next to him or bumping into him in the castle halls.

Eventually, you found yourself with him in the library, he was in the herb section. Why not start a conversation, what could go wrong?

You walked next to him pretending to scan the books you saw him look down at you but only to hurriedly look back that the shelves. A small grin appeared on your lips. “Your Neville, right?” you asked looking to start the conversation. Your eyes glimpsed over at him, his dark fluffy hair covered his face you could feel the panic on him.

“It's alright I don't bite.” you joked, his head snapped to look at you. “I- I know sorry I.. Yeah I'm Neville.” he shutters over his word his body slightly moving toward you.

You let a chuckle come from you his shyness taking him over, his face was beat read yet you could still see his freckles his eyes squeeze shut. “Such an intimidating size yet you quiver like a kitten without it's mother..” you spoke softly.

He grabbed his book holding it close to his body looking down at you his mouth barely gaped, you could see his uneven teeth his heart-shaped lips pink just the same as his cheeks. “I don't quite understand what you mean..” he uttered, his bodyweight shifting on his feet nervously.

“Neville, hun you are well over six foot, yet you act like your tiny like a kitten, not a lion,” you stated simply. The words sounded harsher than you indicated it caused his brows to frown.

“O..oh is that bad..? I don't exactly want to be scary..” he stated nervously he's eyes finally meeting yours.

“I wouldn’t say so personally I think your a cute lil’ thing.” you said your arms crossing smirking you at the boy.

His body stood up straight, he hugged the book tighter his face once again going dark red.

#neville longbottom #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom x f!reader #Neville Longbottom x black!reader #black reader #poc reader #black fem reader #neville x you #neville x black!reader

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mj-iza-writer · 1 year ago

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Whumptober Day 12 wrote this last minute (yesterday, i totally forgot to prep this one). Enjoy 🫣

I haven't slept in days, but who's counting / Red /insomnia / "I'm up, I'm up"

"Caretaker wake up.... Caretaker wake the fuck up."

Caretaker sighed as their eyes fluttered open. They took in the dimly lit room, they noticed something, someone was missing.

"I'm up, I'm up", they jumped, "where is Whumpee?"

"You know I have you under a strict sleep schedule. No sleep whatsoever", the figure chuckled, "so why am I finding you napping."

Caretaker looked up angrily, "cause Whumper, I haven't slept in days", Caretaker sighed, "but who's counting?"

"I have a tally, just to ensure I don't go pass the recommendation, don't need you two going crazy on me", Whumper laughed.

Caretaker did a quick glance around the room, "Uh were is Whumpee?"

Whumper was already leaving, "I don't know, let's hope they're not sleeping though", Whumper slammed the door just as Caretaker was trying to grab them.

"Whumper get back here. You know where they are", Caretaker banged on the door.

They sighed and crawled back to the wall and sat, they leaned back and looked up to try to alleviate the knot in their throat. A tear formed in their eye.

"Whumpee, I'm sorry. I dozed off, and you get grabbed from me", Caretaker looked down.

It was a scary experience to get pulled from the locked room, both Caretaker and Whumpee knew this, but it was a little comforting to have a friend there to see you off, and to comfort you when you returned.

"I was asleep when you needed me", Caretaker hit the floor with their fist, "I'm so sorry."

Caretaker allowed a few tears to fall when they heard the door being unlocked.

They sat up and quickly wiped the tears away. Whumpee would be in bad shape, Caretaker didn't want Whumpee to be concerned with them crying.

"Look who I found", Whumper dragged in a lifeless body.

Caretaker's jaw dropped, "did you, you didn't kill them, did you?"

"I don't think so", Whumper dropped Whumpee onto the floor, "let's just say I let them go to sleep for a little."

Caretaker instinctively got up to rush to Whumpee.

"Nah-ah-ah, you know the rule", Whumper blocked Whumpee from Caretaker.

Caretaker slowly sat back down, staring Whumper in the eyes.

"Say it, I want to hear you say the rule", Whumper grinned.

"We are not allowed to move until you leave", Caretaker spoke through gritted teeth.

"Exactly", Whumper slowly paced around the room. They whistled happily, glancing at Caretaker once in a while. Giving a devilish smile.

Whumpee started to moan.

"Oh good", Whumper knelt down beside them, "I was getting worried."

Whumpee's eyes squinted open, they cried when they saw Whumper.

"Please no more", they started to plead, "I'm good, I'll keep being good. Please", they cried.

Whumper stood and smiled, "such a good prisoner, you learn so well."

Whumper glanced at Caretaker, "you should learn from them."

Whumpee whimpered and looked at Caretaker. They smiled weakly, "Caretaker", they whispered, and held out their hand.

Whumper stepped over them, then stomped on their hand.

Whumpee arched in pain as they screamed.

Whumper knelt down with their foot still digging into Whumpee's hand. They grabbed a handful of Whumpee's hair.

"You know the rules, so why are you reaching for them?", Whumper frowned.

Whumpee winced, "I-I'm sorry please, I'm sorry."

"Let them go",Caretaker stood and ran towards Whumper.

Whumper quickly stood, and slapped Caretaker, knocking them to ground.

"Caretaker no", Whumpee screamed, they still grimaced as Whumper stood on their hand.

Whumper smiled and straightened their shirt, "congratulations Caretaker you just won a prize, you are going to suffer tomorrow."

Whumper did one final dig into Whumpee's hand, then went to leave. Whumpee rolled over to hug their hand.

Caretaker got up when the door finally slammed shut and locked. They crawled to Whumpee.

"Whumpee are you okay? I'm so sorry I was asleep when they grabbed you", Caretaker gently ran their hand through Whumpees hair.

Whumpee sobbed, "I-I'm okay, but they're going to hurt you tomorrow", Whumpee started to cry, "I don't want you to get hurt."

"We will cross that bridge when it comes, I'll be okay", Caretaker tried to comfort Whumpee, they forced a smile, but couldn't hide a tear forming in their eye.

Whumpee weakly sat up, and they hugged each other. They whispered reassurances to each other all night, forcing each other to stay awake.

The morning came, the door was unlocked.

Caretaker sighed, "okay, remember I am going to be okay", they whispered to Whumpee.

The door slammed open, Whumper walked in with that devilish grin.

Whumpee whimpered, "and what if your not", they whispered.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get their", Caretaker frowned.

Whumper stepped closer, "are you coming willingly or by force?"

Caretaker stood, "let's get this over with."

Taglist: as always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

#whumptober2023 #lyric #no.3 #captives #oc #writing #hand crushing #torture #whump community #whump stuff #whump writing #whump ideas #whumpee #whump #whump scenario #whumper #caretaking #caretaker

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faededaway · 11 months ago

Text

You know almost nothing about him. That guy. The guy who buys a box of those abhorrent jelly drink pouches weekly.

Well, you know some things. You know that the store sets aside a box of those for him. (There are no other unsealed boxes available for sale.)

You also know his apartment. You didn't stalk him! He just happens to live in your building and you just happened to have seen him entering his room. Yeah.

You take the stairs to raise the chances of running into him but that's a different thing, right?

Anyway! You know he's probably lived here for years. Whenever any neighbor sees him, they always greet him by name and make small talk. (In comparison, when you greet anyone they always nod and move on).

He's probably important is what you think before trying to know more about him. If he's famous, he wouldn't mind being looked up. Right?

You aren't sure what his name is. You hear people call him Aizawa. But that's a pretty common last name. How are you going to spell it? Are you going to look up 'famous Aizawa'? Something about that makes you look a bit too desperate so you decide, I won't do it.

But a thing happens. On your way up to your apartment, you see a confused delivery person standing before the elevator. When you offer assistance they ask, “you wouldn't happen to know where this man lives, would you? The special instructions said not to call him. You would assume they would do me a favor and put the exact address on it.”

That's where you see it. His name. Aizawa Shouta. And you do know of him. So you chat with the delivery person and accompany them to Aizawa's apartment.

Is this a normal thing to do? Maybe not. Why'd you do that? Hard to say. It's not like you'd run into him, not like you hoped to run into him. No.

But you do! Aizawa, opens the door and you find out he has at least one friend, named Yamada. (The deliverer complains about the inaccurate address and special instruction. Aizawa then apologizes and explains that he has problematic friends).

He glances at you for a second. You see him wonder why you're here. So you nod at him and walk away before he can ask you.

And you look him up. You would like to say that 2 hours of surfing on the net helped you fill the Aizawa shaped hole in your mind. But, you would be lying.

Here's what you find:

• He has two jobs.

• He's a teacher.

• He's a local dentist! (You would've never guessed)

• He's scary as a teacher. (One of his students left a comment under his dental clinic's address: he made me promise to study harder while he had his tools in my mouth. Almost pissed my pants but my toothache is gone.)

You shouldn't do it but you do. You note down his opening hours and clear out your schedule to visit his clinic. I'm just going to go see it is what you tell yourself.

But.

“Got a toothache?”, he finds you standing outside his clinic (like a creep, some might add).

“Uh, no.”

“When did you last get your teeth looked at?”

You wince. You can't think of a good answer. (1. It was a long time ago. 2. You don't know what a proper answer is.)

He fishes out a hairband from his pant pocket and ties his hair, “first visit is free. Do yourself a favor and come in.”

So, you do. You go in.

From the outside, there's nothing extraordinary about the clinic. It has a normal logo with a huge tooth. It is painted white. It even has the clinical smell.

The inside is a little different. Upon entering the clinic, a waiting room is seen. The benches are yellow. Bright yellow. The walls have scenes from children's tales painted on them. There's a shelf with many dental health pamphlets.

A receptionist's desk sits at the end of the room; behind it, is the dental room.

“You, wait here.” He points to an empty seat and walks away.

“Before you sit down, please make an appointment at the desk,” a tired voice calls out to you . The receptionist, you assume. He's got bright purple hair and a tired look that matches Aizawa's.

“Tell me your name, age, and problem.” He types into a computer without looking up at you.

“I'm here for a checkup.”

He pauses when he hears that and sighs.

“Is that a problem?”

“No. More patients mean more money. So, no. I have no problem. If you're here to see him, I have no problem. You're his problem,” he grumbles.

“Uh, I'm sorry.” Maybe you did go too far. Looking up where he works and showing up there, you couldn't be worse.

He looks up at you for the first time.

“He's here as a doctor and you're a patient. He's going to fix your teeth. You're going to go home with better teeth. If you know it and remember it, there's nothing to be sorry about.” He speaks to you in a soft but firm tone. A warning.

“Yeah, okay.” You sit down on an empty bench dejectedly. If Aizawa hadn't asked you to come in, you wouldn't have come in. Maybe not today but who's to say I wouldn't have come tomorrow?

You sigh and tuck your hands under your armpits.

"Are ya scared? Don't be. I know the kids give 'im a reputation but he's soft", an older man sitting across you says. He wears a kind smile in his eyes.

"I... uh. I'm not a patient. I mean, I am one now. But I was just going to... I stalked him." The words come out of your mouth before you can stop them.

"I see. Why?", he shifts his leg to prevent them from going numb but the smile never leaves his eyes.

"Uh, I just wanted to know more about him."

"Hm. Did ya learn anything good?"

You think about the six facts you know about him and weigh in their worth. They are good but they don't ... you shake your head

"Maybe try to talk to the man. Reckon, you'll learn more that way."

"Mr. Sasaki, you're up next." The old man gets up and you bid him goodbye.

His words make you think about your actions. For the entirety of your wait time, you think about what to do as to make up for your actions.

"Ehem! If you want to daydream about him, do it at home," the receptionist stands in front of you with his hands crossed, "called your name thrice already".

You jolt out of your seat and bow apologetically at him before heading over to the the dental room.

Aizawa is seated on a swivel stool with doctor garb on. He beckons you over to the chair, "lay down."

You do as instructed. He moves his stool behind your headrest. He brings a dental mirror up to your mouth, "open".

This angle makes your skin flush. He's so close to you. He has his hands in my mouth! Well, not really. But it does feel that way.

"Hmm, you haven't seen a dentist since you turned sixteen." his sudden remark makes your face heat up. There's absolutely nothing you can say to refute that.

"Your upper teeth are okay but your lower teeth are all in each other's way. Are you a slow eater? You must have some problem eating. Your upper jaw and lower jaw don't sit well at all. Your upper molar-" he lists your seemingly unending list of dental problems for ten minutes straight. You feel a hot flash going through your body. I should've gone to a dentist yearly every year after birth. How will I ever move on from this?

He moves his stool over to your side and lifts your chair so you're sitting up, "we can fix it. I'll write you some x-rays first. I can recommend a few solutions after seeing them. Feel free to get a second or third opinion. We can start your procedure when you're comfortable or you can see someone else. Up to you. I think you need braces to help align your jaw and a filling. I'm hoping a filling will do. No one likes root canals and you won't either."

You nod your head. It's too much information at once but you nod anyway. He looks at you, hard, before walking over to his desk, "come sit here."

"Okay. Let me explain slowly. You have many tooth problems. Some x-rays will help understand how bad they are. So, I am writing you an x-ray. You can get it done here when you have time. After looking at the x-rays, I will tell you what the next step should be," he speaks every word slowly and holds your gaze through each word. He then writes a note and hands it to you.

You nod while reading it and remember what you decided to do before you dozed off on the bench, "I have something to say!"

He takes off his mask and leans back in his chair, "go on."

"I looked you up on the internet and found your clinic and came over without a thought on how creepy it is and-"

His chuckle stops you from completing your apology.

"It's fine. At least you didn't break a tooth intentionally or fake a toothache," he winces as he recalls those incidents.

"Ah, oh." You realize that Aizawa probably faced these stalker situations before. That makes you feel worse so you apologize again.

"It's okay. At least it made you get your teeth checked. Most people don't see a dentist until it's too late," he pulls open a drawer in his desk and takes out an apple jelly juice pack, "here, as a thanks for that day."

You catch it miserably when he throws it to earning another chuckle from him.

"If the clinic is to uncomfortable, you can come to my apartment. I can fix at least one other problem you may have."

#aizawa x reader #gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah #i could do so much #prayerssss for me to write part 2 someday #dentist aizawa

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vex-bittys · 3 months ago

Text

When Life Gives You Skeletons: Chapter 4: One of Those Days

(Warning: anxiety attack, non-graphic description of injuries)

Waking up can be disorienting, and it's always worse in unfamiliar surroundings. The disorientation factor increases exponentially if you discover those unfamiliar surroundings by rolling over in what you assume is your spacious bed only to discover that you've been sleeping on a not-so-spacious couch and landing on a bony lump that squawks in surprise and shoves you back-first into a coffee table. You rub your sore spine with a sigh. It's going to be one of those days.

Once the bony lump, which is of course your new friend Red, has recovered from being squashed into wakefulness, he checks on you to make sure you weren't injured by his instinctual fight response. You can barely hear him over a cacophony of voices from deeper within the house. You recognize one of the voices as Blueberry.

“EDGE, NO! OUR GUEST IS SLEEPING!” Blue speaks loudly enough that if you had still been sleeping, he would have woken you up.

“ARE YOU DEAF? CLEARLY OUR GUEST-” Air quotes are heavily implied around the last two words. “- IS ALREADY AWAKE AND CAUSING PROBLEMS!” By the time the angry rasp of the second voice reaches you, you've risen to your feet and turned in the direction of the argument. You hear a scuffle beyond an open entryway, then Blue and another skeleton monster walk into the room.

The new skeleton monster, who must be Edge, is tall and slender with sharp, angular features. He has narrow sockets, red eyelights, and sharp teeth set in a permanent frown. A trio of deeply grooved scar lines over his left socket completes his spooky, scary skeleton look. As if the intimidating appearance isn't enough, the new guy is also dressed like he rolled around in a pile of Hot Topic new arrivals and wore whatever stuck. His low slung black pants (are they leather?) are tucked into red heeled boots with a gold, skull-shaped belt buckle to hold them tightly to his hip bones. His shirt sports impressive shoulder pads (or is it armor?) and the insignia of the monster Royal Guard. Red leather gloves cover his hands, ending just below his elbows. In short, this skeleton monster is screaming “badass” with each and every article of clothing in his ensemble.

Edge stomps over to stand in front of you, glaring, and Blueberry chases after him, cheeks puffed out in irritation. You're grateful to sense Red close behind you because if looks could kill, you would be six feet under after Edge’s scathing once-over. The tall skeleton then ignores you completely to speak to Red.

“IS THIS,” Edge says with a quick gesture that encompasses the entirety of you, “GOING TO CREATE PAPERWORK FOR ME?”

Blueberry tries to capture your attention, but indignation flares inside of you. Why does everyone keep blaming Red for your injuries? You answer Edge’s accusation before Red has a chance to.

“Red didn't touch me,” you snap haughtily, tilting your head to stare the imposing skeleton straight in the eyelights. What you mistook for a sneer on Edge’s sharp features turns out to be his resting bitch face. You know this because he's sneering at you now, and the expression is downright terrifying.

Thankfully, Red intercedes before you melt from the intensity of the tall skeleton’s disdain. “i didn't use magic, an’ the fucker's still alive,” Red tells Edge in a tone that makes it clear that not killing someone should be viewed as a laudable achievement on his part. Red must be talking about Jay, and once again you wonder what happened after you passed out.

Red pulls Edge aside, and the two begin to converse in hushed voices, most likely discussing the details of Red's late night damsel rescue. This gives you the opportunity to speak to Blueberry, who has been bouncing up and down trying to get your attention. As soon as the two other skeleton monsters move away, he bounds up to you.

“HUMAN!” You can practically hear Blue's barely contained energy vibrating in his words. “I DIDN'T LEARN YOUR NAME LAST NIGHT!” Blue's smile is wide, dazzling, and completely sincere, and his brilliant blue eyelights sparkle. His upbeat and openly expressed mood is contagious, so you return the smile and tell him your name.

“MWEH HEH HEH,” laughs the exuberant skeleton. “NOW THAT WE'VE BEEN FORMALLY INTRODUCED, WE SHOULD EXCHANGE PHONE NUMBERS TO STAY IN TOUCH!”

“I'd love to, Blue, but I have no idea where my phone is right now.” You hate to disappoint Blue, but the skeleton monster doesn't miss a beat.

“GOOD THING THE MAGNIFICENT BLUEBERRY IS ON THE CASE!” Blue strikes the same hands on hips heroic pose as last night, pausing dramatically before solving The Case of the Missing Phone. “YOUR PHONE IS BEHIND YOU ON THE COFFEE TABLE!”

Sure enough, your phone and purse sit on top of the coffee table that you unexpectedly encountered earlier. Your back throbs at the memory, but you ignore it, unlocking your phone. You see the time and freeze. Unless Red is willing to drive you to your no-longer-residence to retrieve your work clothes, there's no way you'll make your afternoon shift on time. You hate to ask the skeleton for more help after everything that he's already done for you.

“IS SOMETHING WRONG, MAIDEN?”

You're curious about Blue's use of the word maiden, but you put the thought aside for the moment. “Nothing that I can't handle,” you reassure him. You open a new contact entry in your phone and hand it to him, and he gives you his phone so that you can input your number. You save Blue's contact as “The Magnificent Blueberry” just in time for Red to tap you on the shoulder.

Edge moves towards the front door, followed by Blue. You watch them open a closet and grab leather jackets, black with silver studs for Edge and blue and gray with a futuristic design for Blue. Edge grabs two sets of keys from a row of hooks by the door and tosses one of the sets to Red, who catches it easily out of the air. Blue and Edge then disappear out the door, leaving you alone with Red.

Red shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “i'm gonna take ya back ta yer house t'get yer stuff, but first yer gonna need some clothes.” Red tips his skull at what you're wearing which you just now realize is nothing except an oversized t-shirt that ends mid-thigh and yesterday's underwear. No bra. No pants. No shoes.

It's a little late to be embarrassed, but heat rises to your cheeks anyway.

“c'mon.” Red leads you through the entryway that the other two skeleton monsters had emerged from earlier, and you discover an enormous open floor plan kitchen and dining room. Red continues on through a smaller doorway that opens into a laundry room with a pair of big fancy 2-in-1 washer/dryer machines that cost as much as the type of used car you've been hoping to buy.

Red begins to dig around in a hamper of clothes that you hope are clean. At this point though, you'll settle for anything that will cover you more than what you have on. Red’s hamper foray produces a pair of track pants, a blue hoodie, and a pair of white socks, all of which Red hands to you.

“you c'n get dressed in here if ya want. i'm gonna go t'my room t'change an’ i’ll meet ya back in the livin’ room when yer done.”

You nod. “Thanks, Red.” The skeleton seems taken aback at your sincere gratitude and quickly leaves the room, grumbling under his breath as he goes. You notice that distinct red tint creeping over his skull again, and you're beginning to think it might mean that he's blushing. Does genuine praise embarrass him?

You ponder the possibility while you pull on the clothes that Red provided. The pants are a little long, but the hoodie fits fine and, as a bonus, hides the fact that you're not wearing a bra. Shoving your phone into the hoodie pocket, you make your way back to the living room, taking a moment to admire the extravagant house as you go.

Red is already waiting for you. His outfit is so similar to yesterday's that you do a double-take. A pair of gold chains hang where a collar once sat, but other than that, you can't spot a difference. Did Red wear the same clothes minus the accessories or does he have a dresser full of identical shirts and basketball shorts?

Once you're close enough, Red holds out a pair of sneakers to you. You slip your feet into them, grab your purse, and trail after Red as he walks out the front door and heads for a hulking black SUV parked in the driveway. The skeleton hops into the driver's seat, leaving you to scramble into the behemoth of a vehicle on your own. You finally manage to climb into your seat with Red providing a soundtrack of chuckles from the driver's seat.

“Why couldn't we just take your car,” you complain.

“i borrowed my bro's ride so we could get all yer stuff in one trip. didn't think ya'd be too keen on seein’ yer shithead roommate more than once.” Red has a point. The mere thought of Jay makes you sick to your stomach, and if you never saw him again, it would be too soon. You won't need a huge car to get all of your belongings in one trip though. You could carry everything you owned with your own two hands, just like you had when you moved to Ebbott City to start over.

“Why is Blue driving such a huge car?” Red cackles at your question. You're not sure what's so funny except for maybe the idea of Blue trying to climb into the SUV without a stepladder.

“blue ain't my brother.”

“Oh, I just assumed since you guys have similar skull shapes and…” You trail off, a sneaking suspicion arising. “Wait, is Edge your brother?”

Red's cackles turn into howls of laughter. When he has his laughter under control, he explains. “edge is my bro,” he confirms. “blue n’ i ain't bros but we're related, kinda. we're… uh… cousins.”

Ok, the hesitation is a little weird, but you don't dwell on it because Red is pulling out of the driveway, finally giving you an uninterrupted view of the place he calls home. The house is nestled at the base of Mount Ebbott, with sprawling woodlands just a stone's throw from the meticulously manicured yard. You recognize the style of the architecture as a Southern plantation house, complete with a wrap-around porch and pillars, and you wouldn't call the three-story building anything less than a mansion. You sigh dreamily; living in a place like that is goals.

“y'alright?” Red must have heard you sigh. You decide to answer his question with a question of your own.

“Do you, Edge, and Blue live in that huge house by yourselves?”

“nah. there's ten of us, all skeleton monsters. five pairs of brothers that also happen to be… cousins.”

You make idle conversation with Red while he drives and discover that he's never visited Ebbott Aquarium despite being on the Surface for what he mistakenly says is four years. Monsters emerged from the Underground five years ago, but correcting him feels rude. Instead you insist on treating him to a day at the aquarium to repay him for his kindness even though he says it isn't necessary.

You tell Red stories of your life, nothing too specific about your past, just silly things that have happened at your job or during your time in college. He listens to you talk about the drunk Santa who wandered into the store you work at and the woman who asked you to double-bag every single item she purchased. You even told him about the time you saw a dog with heterochromia, and instead of telling your college roommate that the dog had two differently colored eyes, you simply shouted, with maximum excitement: “That dog has two eyes!”

The sound of Red's deep, growling chuckle fills the car, and you smile in satisfaction. “humans’re just as fucking weird as animals.”

A comfortable silence settles in the SUV after the skeleton’s observation. You watch the neighborhoods pass by through the vehicle's tinted windows. Red navigates with confidence, and far too soon, you've reached the outskirts of the place you called home only yesterday. It feels like months ago.

The events of last night have wormed their way into your catalog of experiences. The memories are a part of you now, for better or worse, ready to resurface when you least expect them. You would not consider this to be “when you least expect them,” yet here they are, pushing forward in your mind.

Jay yells.

The bathroom door splinters.

You can't breathe.

He's choking you!

You can't-

“doll. doll, yer alright. breathe!”

Red opens the passenger door of the SUV and leans in to unbuckle your seatbelt. You didn't even realize that he’d stopped and gotten out. Reality catches up to you, and your hands begin to shake. You can't slow your breathing, and you can't seem to suck enough air into your panicked lungs.

“hey, look at me,” Red continues to talk you through the episode. “my bro called a friend of his in th’ human police force. th’ guy's gonna meet us there. you'll be safe.” You focus on inhaling and exhaling, and Red's next words are so quiet that you nearly miss them. “i promise, n’ i don't make promises lightly.”

It takes awhile, but you manage to bundle up all of your emotions and shove them into the “Closet of Things You Don't Want to Deal with Right Now" in your mind. You calm down enough that Red is able to get back into the SUV and drive the remaining few blocks to the scene of last night's attack. Jay is outside when you pull up, talking to a uniformed police officer standing next to his cruiser.

Jay definitely looks like he's been in a fight… and lost. His entire face is swollen and bruised, including two black eyes and an obviously broken nose. Red parks in front of the house, and the police officer approaches his window and taps on it, indicating that Red should roll it down, which he does.

“You're Lieutenant Serif's brother?” the officer asks. He's young with a friendly demeanor that puts you at ease.

“yeah, i changed that pompous dickwad's diapers when he was a babybones,” Red responds. The policeman snorts.

“Well, it might be best if you wait in the car. There's still some lingering animosity after last night's altercation.”

“pussy's mad i kicked ‘is ass,” Red translates, making no move to get out of the car. The officer shifts his attention to you.

“If you'll come with me, ma’am, we can go inside and collect your belongings.”

You take a deep breath to steady yourself and step out of the car. Making your way towards your once-welcoming residence, you stick close to the young policeman. Jay trails behind you, and while you dislike having him at your back where you can't track his movements, it makes avoiding any contact, the physical and the eye variety, easy. Jay doesn't speak to you either, and for once, you're grateful to him for something. You just want to get in, grab your stuff, and never look back.

The first thing you notice when you get to the door is that the jamb is smashed near the lock, causing the door to swing open loosely when the officer pushes on it. The next thing you notice is a very strong scent of bleach, which surprises you since none of your roommates are the slightest bit cleaning-inclined. The very last bit of noticing that you do involves the feel of the house itself. Just yesterday, this place represented safety and belonging; today you simply feel detached from the place as if you never lived here at all.

You deliberately avert your eyes when you pass the bathroom with its wrecked door. The bleach odor coming from inside overwhelms you, and your eyes water from the strength of it. Finally you arrive at your bedroom. The door is already ajar, and you push it open further only to discover that the room you once occupied is completely empty. It's not just empty either; it looks as though it's been ransacked.

The closet door is open, and hangers litter the floor. The drawers are all pulled out of the dresser and nightstand, showing nothing left inside of them. The sheets, blankets, and pillows are missing from the bed, and not even your pile of muddied clothes remains. You stare, at a loss for words.

“Oh yeah, your stuff is in the bathroom,” Jay says, acting like he just remembered the fact. Dread settles in your stomach. The bathroom is only a few feet away, and that short walk somehow takes far too long and not nearly long enough.

The source of the bleach smell and the location of your stolen possessions turns out to be the same thing: the bathtub. The bathtub is overflowing with torn fabric and pillow stuffing, and every single item is soaked and stained from the bleach that's been poured on top of it. You don't know how to process what has happened, so you stand there, numb. Every time an emotion rises inside of you, you stuff it into that mental closet of yours. This isn't the time for a breakdown. Not with Jay and a stranger watching you.

Jay leans towards you. “That's what you get, monster fucker,” he hisses. You recoil at the hatred in his words.

“Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step back.” The policeman's voice is cold and clipped, nothing like the friendly tone he used with you earlier. He addresses you next: “Ma'am, would you come outside with me?”

You can't get out of the house fast enough. Standing out in the yard, you gulp down the fresh air and hope that you'll never smell bleach or talk to Jay ever again.

“Unfortunately, I can't arrest someone for being an asshole,” the policeman tells you. He's back to using his kind voice now that it's just the two of you. “Because he destroyed your property, this has become a civil matter, which means that you'll have to take your former roommate to small claims court if you want him to pay you back for what he destroyed.” You nod, not trusting yourself to speak at the moment. “I'll make a detailed report of the incident, and if you decide to pursue a case, I'll get a copy for you to use as evidence.”

The officer gives you his card, and you shove it into the pocket of your borrowed hoodie. You thank him, then join Red back in the SUV.

“what happened,” the skeleton monster asks, apparently noticing that you haven't brought anything with you.

“Jay wrecked all of my stuff.” You sigh, feeling defeated. You don't expect Red's explosive reaction.

“i'll kill that fucker!” Red snarls and reaches for the door handle. You place a hand on his arm to restrain him.

“It's ok. I didn't have that much stuff to begin with.”

Red huffs but stays in the vehicle. “that just makes it worse,” he grumbles. “so where to now?”

You shrug. “I need to call my boss. I'm definitely going to be late today. You don't have to keep driving me around though. I can take the bus.” You appreciate Red's efforts, but you're starting to feel like a burden. Surely he has better things to do with his time than chauffeur a human around.

“ya can't get rid of me that easy, doll. howzabout we grab some food an’ find ya some new duds?”

You are admittedly relieved by Red's offer, and he drives a short distance to a nearby superstore with a sandwich shop conveniently located inside. You and Red seat yourself on opposite sides of a small booth, and you pull out your phone to make your call. You shouldn't be surprised that things don't go well. It has been one of those days, after all.

Your manager answers the phone, and you quickly tell her about the attack, first on you then on your defenseless work attire. There is a long pause on the other end of the line after you finish your story. Your manager finally speaks.

“I know it isn't your fault,” she says, and the heavy weight of dread returns to your already churning stomach. “But we have a three strikes attendance policy, and I can't make exceptions.”

You want to argue. Sure, your first absence occurred because you slept through your alarm, but you weren't responsible for your other roommates throwing up in a dryer containing your clean work clothes or for Jay's aggressive actions.

“They aren't absences,” you reason with her to no avail.

“If you're over two hours late, it counts as an absence.” There’s another lengthy pause. “Look, I'm really sorry about this, but it's corporate policy. I hope things turn out for you. Goodbye, hon, and good luck.”

Your now ex-manager terminates the call, and you're left sitting there, staring at the phone screen. You try desperately to cram more unwanted emotions into that special closet in your mind, but it's filled to capacity from earlier events.

You feel a bony finger gently brushing tears that you weren't even aware had fallen from your cheeks. “aww, doll, don't cry.” At some point during the ill-fated phone call, Red had gotten up to attempt to comfort you. Suddenly you find yourself pressed against his warm body, shaking and sobbing into his shirt. After a brief hesitation, he wraps his arms around you and holds you while you cry.

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#vexy writes #when life gives you skeletons #underfell #underswap #underswap sans #us!sans #underfell sans #uf!sans #underfell papyrus #uf!papyrus

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