#i just know a part of her is eaten by guilt(...i hope)

[dirteater25]

Its such an intresting concept to think about how kotoko would react to mahirus death because imagine that one of the people who was deemed a "sinner" and you had to carry out your "duties" to serve justice sudently not only gets frogiven by the system you were acting out on (es' judgment) but calls you over while on her deathbed just to wish you a happy birthday and she says she has no grudge against you then the next thing you know she dies?

I hope t3 kotoko starts feeling at least some traces of guilt, i want to see her break character and realize thats not the way things should go and that shes more then just a weapon for a system that is flawed, and i hope mahirus death helps her realize that.

[dadsbongos]

dog and rabbit

9.5 k words / summary - When your party is locked into a stuck trap, you and Laios are the only ones who can bare each other. You both want to be consumed, one literally, and know that only the other can fulfill your desire.

warnings - reader with she/her pronouns, cannibalism as a metaphor for love/cannibalistic thoughts and imagery, fully romantic but no upfront confession, allusions to spoilers but everyone should be safe to read, reader has ego issues and parental issues, laios and reader are both FREAKS, starvation as a plot device

~~~

pt 1 - dog eat rabbit

Mama’s hands are crusted with drying mud, dirt flakes up her bare arms as she smooths a lumpy plot. She’s knelt down, across from her is Papa, and beside Papa is his dog -- tail wagging and mouth dangling open to pant, pant, pant. Between them all is the small rectangular grave Mama just finished pampering. A thin stick sits up straight from the head of the filled hole. You stand at the other end, staring at Papa’s dog with ambivalence.

You wanted to sanitize her vibrant scratches and swelling bite marks, and you wanted her scrapes to get infected. You hoped she would recover to her yippy self soon, and you prayed the mounting limp from her front right paw was permanent. You’d be devastated if she died of her injuries, and you’d find the death to be just.

She’s terrible.

You mock up a world where she was the one eaten instead.

She’s your sole best friend now.

You hope she’s full, no longer at risk of starving to illness.

“Sit, girl,” Papa beckons, a calloused, wrinkled finger directed towards the gaping spot by your mother’s side, “Be respectful. You wanted this memorial, now be part of it.”

“I didn’t want- !“

As if sensing your following words, Mama hisses a sharp shush, then pats the ground beside her. Papa raises a brow at you, testing. Sunlight burns your back, and you spontaneously decide the shaded spot by your mother is more appealing (entirely unrelated to your parents’ demands).

Now, you are face to face with your new best friend because she is your real best friend’s murderer. You hate her. You love her. You want her to feel every shred and tear and pierce she inflicted upon your bunny.

“Darling,” Mama coos, fingers dancing up your shoulder and through your hair, uncaring for how she ruins the strands, “be realistic. A simple marsh rabbit was never going to survive out here.”

“He followed the river out for a reason,” you murmur, now looking down from the big, remorseful, wet eyes of Papa’s dog, “We were meant to be best friends.”

“You’re not a baby anymore,” Papa snaps, rising onto his feet, he glares at you. He glares at you with deep lines retracing their places in his forehead, and his hands clench so hard they shake, until they suddenly go lax. He waves both hands out, shaking them free of all tension as he sighs and turns and prattles down towards the ocean.

His dog follows, slower than she used to with a pause and caution fresh to her gait, licking his hand as he pulls free his fishing pole from the sand. Mama pats down your back and mutters apologies.

You rise shortly after and whistle the dog back into your small shelter, knowing how her wounds will burn should she follow your father into the lapping sea water. She licks your face and you pet around the open scratches from this morning.

You dream that night of what would happen if you let her wander into the ocean.

You wake up with an incredible sense of guilt.

…

“I’m so tired,” Marcille dregs her weight onto your back, causing you to stumble under the sudden hefty addition, “We should stop soon!”

“Agreed,” Chilchuck huffs, stretching his arms out in front of him.

“How about you?” Laois coils at the waist to glance back at you, brows raised high, “Packs wearing you down?”

“No!” you howl defensively, hands wriggling deeper into the leather of Chilchuck’s waterskin when Marcille moans in protest to your denial, “But! If everyone is tired then we should settle down, probably. I think.”

“I think so, too,” Laios nods, deferring to Senshi -- the pair murmuring about which of the dark archways lining the dungeon hall leads to a safe rest stop.

Your party finally piles into an off-room, Marcille still slouched against your back to send you both careening towards the far left end of the cellar.

“Hmm,” Chilchuck points up towards a series of holes in the cobbled archway, “It looks like this room’s rigged to lock us inside. So be careful to not step on this tile, it’ll activate the- !”

Senshi grunts over the sudden sinking in his left side, foot slid over the edge of the stone Chilchuck’s index finger is aimed at, “Whoops.”

A scream escapes the half-foot, Chilchuck narrowly rolling out of the way of downcoming spears. Pointed ends stab towards the cobblestone floor, tips scraping rock, effectively trapping your lot into the cellar.

“Eek!” you scream, both hands pawing at Laios’ arm, “We’re gonna die in here!”

“Shut up, we’re not gonna die in here,” Chilchuck groaned, rising to his knee to inspect the lock attached to the middlemost bar, “I’ll get it open in the morning. If anything, it might help keep us secured overnight, so I can’t be mad.”

“Are you sure that’s okay?” you ask, Marcille nodding in backup to your question.

“It’s a pretty simple lock, so it shouldn’t cause me too much grief in the morning.”

Laios nods, stepping back carefully to avoid jangling you off his arm as he sets out his sleeping bag. You stand over him now, hands splayed gently across his back as he flattens his mat, “If you’re gonna stay by me, could you help me get my armor off?”

If anyone except Laios were to ask, you’d probably take offense to the wording -- but it was Laios, and you know Laios well enough to know he’d never want to hurt your feelings.

So you nod, despite the fact he cannot see you, “Of course!”

Neither you or Laios is certain when physical contact became so normal between you, only that now it's strange for Laios to remove his heavy plating without you. So he tries to suck up every opportunity he can now, requesting your assistance whenever the party stocks into a room with a door to keep out ambushers.

“Hey,” Marcille beckons from across the room, already having set out both your mats, “I thought you’d be by me tonight.”

“I will be! Just… helping…” you return focus to Laios, giddily undoing the leather straps of your leader’s grieves before rushing off his pauldrons.

“Thanks again,” he works off the clasps on his arms, slinking free from each piece with a noisy series of clunks and thuds.

“I love helping,” you rationalize quickly, face alight with glee as you wait for Laios to set aside his gorget. Once given a go-ahead nod, you eagerly grasp the lip of his cuirass by the waist and tip upwards. While you’re not lying about your natural proclivity to be helpful, you’re also not terribly against feeling the broadness of Laios’ body up close.

You blame it on admiration.

You admire how he can move so smoothly in such heavy pieces. You admire how despite the both of you being tall-men, he’s managed to occupy the stature to a fuller extent than you. He’s not just big because of his race, but he’s got real discipline to continuously train and hone his combat skills. His muscles are as aesthetically pleasing as they are a sign of his dedication.

In a weird way, you think every monster to be eaten by him should be honored.

Ironically, that night you dream of the party’s first encounter with monsters you couldn’t eat: Orcs.

…

“First ones to die are the ones with the weapons!”

“Aah!” you shriek, immediately releasing your daggers so the blades crash by your knees with a faint tink, tink, tink, “I’m unarmed! Please don’t kill me!”

“Have a backbone!” Chilchuck shouts at you, though beads of sweat are pouring down his face as well.

“I don’t wanna die, Chilchuck!” you cry, sniffling.

“I don’t either, you know?” he hisses in your ear.

Your eyes are too clogged by waterworks to make out the following dispute between Senshi and the Orcs. Now hugging a pair of onions to your chest for support rather than your teensy needlepoint daggers.

“Them veggies be something you grew, I guess?” despite the lilt in his tone, you don’t take the Orc Chief’s tone as a question, “We’re on a supply run lookin’ for food. ‘Preciate if you’d share them with us.”

“Sure, be happy to. What you got to trade for them?” Senshi must be crazy to expect a trade with big, hungry Orcs with big, shiny weapons surrounding you all.

“No trade. Tribe’s desperate, we barely got up to this floor alive. You’ve been a good friend and I hate to do this, but… hand over everything you got. Right now.”

You fumble the onions between your arms, then shirking off the carrots tangled in your bag’s side pockets. Senshi glares at you through his peripherals, grumbling quietly for you to pick the crops back up before returning to his parley with the Orcs.

Unfortunately, your obvious compliance earns you no favor compared to your comrades.

“Coward,” Marcille thunks her head against the cabbage in her hands, “Coward!”

“I was scared!” you wish you had your forfeited onions back, even if only to provide something to cling to. The space between your arms feels so glaringly empty it makes your racing heart swerve to overdrive.

“Everyone was!” Chilchuck glares up at you, then toward Senshi, “Except that idiot.”

“Be nice,” you knot your fingers together, only to watch them unravel again as your group is herded towards the Orcs’ makeshift camp. Then, you look to Senshi for backup, “Besides, they were getting thrown out if we couldn’t trade, right? What’s the harm?”

Senshi shakes his head at you disapprovingly, and it oddly cuts deeper than when your father would do the same, “You need to stand your ground, that’s the difference.”

“Don’t antagonize her,” Laios jumps in, voice level in spite of the agitated pinch in his brow, “You all know she hates pain.”

“Who doesn’t, dumbass?!” Chilchuck grits, quickly hushing himself, “None of us want to suffer.”

With admittedly no comeback, even with all your prayers that he’d clunk one together, Laios shrugs, and -- as if sensing your dilemma -- sticks out his bicep for you to hug to your chest.

…

You woke up feeling despondent, gloomily rolling up your area and preparing for the day’s adventure while Senshi made breakfast. And as much as you wish Laios’ curiosity could inspire any excitement within yourself to try the lumpy larvae porridge from cellar-dwelling insects, you’re really not craving any.

“Hey!” but there the blonde is, calling to you and restlessly patting the floor beside him, “Come on, it’s almost ready!”

With weak, frizzly resolve, you conceded in an instant. Just as instantly, you regret it.

Faint, tangy iron clings to the gum of your mouth. A sourness washing over your palette soon after. Your lips press tightly before your tongue lolls out and you’re scraping the harsh edge of your spoon down your flesh, “Blehhh…!”

“Seriously?” Chilchuck sighs, though not withholding his own scrunched face, “You’re acting like a kid.”

“It’s gross!” you whine, bowl clattering between your legs, “It hurts my mouth!”

“Really?” Laios leans in from your left, his chest, while still unguarded, crushes against your shoulder, pointing down into your bowl with his own spoon, “Mind if I have yours?”

“Be my guest,” you slide the bowl his way, then squishing the tip of your tongue into your top gums, “I think it burnt a dent in my mouth.”

Chilchuck groans this time, loud and abrasive, eyes narrowed at you, “It’s not even that bad.”

“You’ve been brainwashed! Monster guts are monster guts, and this time their stomach acid burned my mouth!” you look to your right, at the elf contently munching on Senshi’s cooking, “Right, Marcille?!”

(Senshi’s rebuttal of, “Ain’t no guts in this.” goes unnoticed)

“Hm?” she withers under your pointed stare, shoulders shriveling towards her chest, “I mean, yeah, it is weird…” then she lifts her bowl level to her face, dodging your gaze, “But I don’t think it's burned my mouth.”

“Maybe I’m allergic,” you drivel, focus flitting to Laios’s hands as he grabs your serving to dig in -- even licking the excess off your abandoned utensil, “If I’m allergic I might die…”

“Or you’re just crazy,” Chilchuck intervenes.

“Be nice to me!” you cry, raising a fist as if to strike the man over your fire. You’d never, you don’t have the courage.

Laios nods, “Be nice.”

“You’ll be hungry later,” Senshi chastises, “Eating is the privilege of the living. You’re squanderin’ it.”

“We’ll have lunch later,” you curl your knees to your chest, binding them with both arms tight around your thighs, “I can wait.”

“Who says we’ll find anything worth eating?” you doubt Chilchuck cares about either your stomach or Senshi’s cooking, you instead boldly assume he just wants to keep lecturing you.

“We will!” you lay your head against Laios’ shoulder, peeking up at the man through your lashes, “Right, Laios? We’ll find food again today.”

“I mean, yeah,” he blinks down at you cluelessly, “Deeper we go down, the more we’re bound to find!”

“See! We’ll find food!”

“It’s too early to be fighting…” Marcille frowns, eyes flicking from you to Chilchuck, and back to you.

Chilchuck retires his own bowl and grossly wipes his mouth off with his arm before scooching to the door, waving off whatever retort could follow.

Senshi takes both yours and Laios’ bowls once both are emptied before turning to you, “You may want to dig into the spare snacks in your bag anyway. Ain’t good to start the day on an empty stomach.”

His sudden warmth inspires a molten ooze in your own chest, you shyly nod before muttering, “Sorry for calling your cooking gross… it isn’t, actually. I liked- !”

“Larvae pods can’t be for everyone,” he cuts you off with a speedy recovery, “More for the people that do enjoy it.”

“Thanks for sharing!” Laios claps your back, trying to be friendly and only rattling your balance.

Senshi and Laios begin packing up as you spindle onto your hands and knees to crawl the couple of paces towards your bag. Creeping a hand under the flap to dig for treats, your whole body spiking with goosebumps and raised hairs when you distinctly miss any indentation of rations in your palm. You prattle forward another two knees-worth and unlatch the golden clasp to dig through your bag.

“Oh, no…” you mutter, movements growing more agitated the longer you go without finding food, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…”

“You okay?”

You jump back, clenching both hands over your heart and nodding rapidly, “Yeah, fine! No worries here, Laios!”

“Sounds good!” he backs away to continue assisting Senshi.

“No!” suddenly, Chilchuck’s voice stabs through the room, “No, no, no, no, no!”

“What’s wrong?” Marcille rushes over, clutching Ambrosia between unsteady palms.

Thankfully the party’s attention pivots to the screaming lockpick and you get the grace of pretending there’s absolutely more food left for your group. No problems here!

“It’s jammed!” Chilchuck wrangles the silver bars, then latching onto the boxy lock itself as if to choke all life from the metal, “How am I supposed to pick a lock if the lock isn’t sufficient quality?!”

Or, apparently, you cannot pretend. At least not for long because a problem arose on the opposite side of the cell.

“You can get us out though, right?” Marcille’s grip on Ambrosia loosens, even calm enough to lay the staff against a wall.

“Of course, I can. Who do I look like?” Chilchuck scoffs.

Silently, you beseech Chilchuck’s expertise surpasses this lock’s apparent lack thereof.

“So, how’s the door?”

.

.

.

“Still not open!”

“I thought you were a specialist on these things, Chilchuck.”

All fiddling and knocking ceases in an instant, Chilchuck now staring dead-eyed at Laios for his unwelcomed quip.

“So scary,” Laios whispers beneath his breath, then turning towards you with a subtle downturn of his lips, “What’d I do?”

Hugging yours and Chilchuck’s bags closer to your chest with a stilted shrug, you reply, “I guess he didn’t appreciate the input.”

“I thought- “

Chilchuck’s icy stare kills your leader’s words in his throat.

“Well, we still have leftovers, so we aren’t in trouble of starving for awhile,” you fabricate, digging a hand through your bag to aid your illusion of ease, “When we do run out, I have a plan! So don’t worry about going hungry.”

“Hm?” Laios quirks a brow at your uneven grin.

Before he can prod for more direction, Marcille’s popping back and relieved groan creak through the room. She arches up from her recline on the ground, gold tresses fluttering out around her head. With more huffing and moaning, she flips onto her stomach and stablizing onto her elbows to stare at Chilchuck’s twiddling. Poking and striking various chords and rods within the lock’s bottom hole, you can hear Chilchuck’s frustrated swears in both common and native tongue (though the longer he goes without success, the more obscure and foreign his curses sound).

You’d hate to see Chilchuck face more defeat than he’s already bore. Few hours have passed since waking to find yourselves locked in the dungeon cellar. Chilchuck will soon be considering blood sacrifices made from all four of you, you fear.

“You know, it’s been awhile since I could wash my hair… would be nice if we were out so I could take care of that,” Marcille grins, already knowing the response she’ll pull talking like that.

“Marci, be quiet…!” you whine anxiously, eyes narrowing on Chilchuck’s back.

The man slowly turns his head to narrow his eyes at Marcille, “Huh?” she shrugs coyly, curling a finger into framing strands of her long hair, Chilchuck laughs. Rage thinly veiled by (obviously forced) lightheartedness, “Didn’t quite catch that.”

“Guys!” you wail, “Please!”

Senshi sighs through his nose, murmuring about kids bickering as he polishes the knife you only see used for cooking.

Tense silence descends upon your group once again.

Turning to the blonde at your side, you murmur, “I’m more worried about how to keep from getting bored. I feel like boredom is when everyone starts hating each other…”

Laios straightens up at your concern, twisting noisily through his personal bag to drag out a leather bound journal, “I could show you my notes about monsters! They’re pretty long so it’ll take awhile, perfect way to kill time while Chil’ gets us out!”

Nodding, you lean into his side, watching intently as he recites each tidbit and offbeat scribble as if by heart. You notice that none of the writing is as softened by print or recognizable as what’s scrawled in his guide on edible monsters. You don’t think this book has been exposed to the party yet, and that thought is patently delightful. That you are so dependable to Laios he’s willing to show off something born from his raw passion.

“It was something I teased when I was by myself,” he confesses, cheeks glowing rosy at the vulnerability of it all, “When I started wondering about the integrity of the Gourmet Guide, it inspired me to make a real guide. So, even though I’m sad the author probably never ate the monsters they wrote about, I can still honor the passion it gave me.”

“Wow,” you turn onto your hip and cradle his arm against yours. Perhaps overly casually, you sling a leg over one of his and rest your head against his shoulder, his chill shirt icing the heat on your own cheek (his simmering skin beneath quickly reheats it), “You’re really cool, Laios.”

Marcille’s side-eye goes unacknowledged when you say that.

“Seriously?” you’re easily distracted from everyone else when Laios is grinning so brightly at you, “You think so?”

“Mhm!”

“You’re really cool, too,” he wishes he could say more, but your pretty face so close to his is strangling his bravery.

That night, you have the strangest dream.

…

A lion of gold fur and pearly wings looms over you, globs of His drool hanging and dribbling onto your forehead. Temptation to reach up and comb your fingers through His mane rushes through you -- but you cannot move. Limbs bogged by a weight unseen, and then there is a dog.

Big black eyes pour down on you, front paws plastered at each side of your waist to hold himself up. Pointed teeth peek through its panting snout -- bloodthirsty growls verberating low through its body. You blink and the dog is different. Yipping like a friend, tail wagging at the sight of you, it licks your cheek. You blink and the dog is gone, replaced with a fellow tall-man. Armor removed and shirt hanging low, you can make out his collarbones and the dip down towards his chest -- if you dare to stare straight down then you could make out the handles of his hips.

Blood stains the seams between his teeth, chin glistening with crimson gush. Faintly, you can make out the sensation of lips puckered around your fingers; sucking and nibbling at your nail beds. Chilchuck, Marcille, Senshi. They all seem so at ease, faces completely lax similar to those of nursing kittens.

Laios’ lips press into your neck, hot and cold clashing when he introduces teeth. You can’t even feel the pain as he digs in -- instead, you feel just as calm as your friends look.

You feel serene.

Marcille snaps a finger bone like it's a carrot between her molars. Chilchuck and Senshi lave the spilling blood from her cheeks. They can’t get enough of you. Laios burrows his arms beneath your waist, pressing your body closer into his as he desperately tongues your flesh down his throat.

Hungrily and contently, they swallow you down. Every morsel.

You feel most loved.

…

You woke up feeling grateful.

Chilchuck has not yet gotten your party free. As the day progresses, you feel that gratitude leaking over the floor. It curdles in the open air and soaks into the bottom of Marcille and Laios’ shoes as they ask you to unlock your food pouch.

Cheerful, expectant faces haunt you from above. Marcille, of course, has nothing but patience for you, but the killer is Laios. Obviously. Laios, who so, so fervently and imperatively trusts you so, so wholeheartedly is your biggest problem in this fiasco. He always looks at you like you could never do anything wrong, and you’ve never hated it until now.

Wide, twinkly amber eyes drill into you, “It’s been awhile since we’ve had to dig into the rations, I don’t even remember what’s all in there.”

Marcille nods in agreement, excitement at the prospect of eating obvious in the drool pooling in the corners of her mouth, “Right? It’ll be nice to have something non-monster related, at least.”

“You think so?” Laios pouts, “I thought you were warming up to eating monsters.”

“It's still not my first choice!”

In the midst of their spat, your attention is split between trying to conjure a plausible reason to deny them; and manifesting a destiny where they forgot why they approached you.

By the time Marcille’s tummy croaks through the cramped room, neither has come to fruition. She cups the pouch of her stomach, embarrassed at its echoing rumble.

“Jeez, thought I was hungry…” Chilchuck teases from his post at the door.

“Hey! That was a totally reasonable sound for how long it's been since we ate. And who’s to say that was even me? It could’ve been Laios!”

“It wasn’t,” Senshi adds.

“Definitely wasn’t,” Chilchuck’s sly grin cracks upon the sound of his own gut joining the conversation.

“Ha!” Marcille’s joy is usually able to cleanse your dreary moods, but usually you’re not keeping such a destructive secret.

Usually, you don’t freeze yourself in place like it’ll prevent your party from noticing you’re still alive -- all to avoid them asking the same question from minutes ago,

“So, can you open up the food pack?”

You are not so lucky.

Laios has asked you again.

Rare is it for you to refuse him, because rarer it is for him to ask something outrageous or impossible (or impossibly outrageous) of you. This is the one in a billion chance that you must turn him down. But how can you when he’s looking at you so kindly?

A frazzled, puny No trapped in the back of your desiccate throat when suddenly Senshi says it for you.

“Best to save our rations so we can eat right before we leave.”

Senshi’s trust in you makes you somehow more nauseous. Marcille’s downtrodden agreement makes that stacked nausea triple. Laios curling up beside you to keep you company makes you so electrified you’re certain to be hiccuping bile soon.

(you don’t end up puking, thankfully)

That night, you dreamt of the time you and Laios met.

…

He’s really beautiful, it's the first thing you notice about him. Too beautiful to be a dungeon crawler, Laios’ face is more befitting of royalty. To be praised and swooned over and kissed.

“It’ll be less pay than, well, our swordsman or mage.”

You think his thoughtfulness makes him more beautiful.

Strangely, you feel the need to comfort him. Overcompensate the mediocrity of such a position simply so he doesn’t feel guilty hiring you (because in the back of your head is the fear that if he feels guilty, he simply won’t take you on).

“That’s fine! I don’t mind at all, as long as I get any money I couldn’t care less.”

You just want a house. You just don’t want to suffer.

“Alright, then, looks like we have a carrier,” Laios looked to Falin, the girl nodding with a cheery smile.

You just want to be as close to the beautiful, shining, gnashing sun as possible.

…

You woke up feeling thirsty.

You’d twisted over to dig out your watersack when you found that your entire pack was missing. Ice spilled across your entire body at the sight, a swelling, obnoxious anxiety aching through your nervous system. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, and you could hear the blood pumping through your ears.

Slowly, your head swivels around the room, until you find your pack in the arms of another -- who is now settled across the room rather than beside you.

Peculiarly close to Senshi’s pseudo-camp, Marcille is scratching your bag tightly to her chest.

“Marci,” you call, dredging the boys’ curiosity towards you. You don’t know if she’s taken the liberty of looking inside, “Give that back…”

She does not, merely hugging the leather tighter. Such desperation clues you that she’s most likely just as oblivious about the bag’s contents as everyone else is. Her stomach rumbles loudly, you swallow dryly and wet your lips to beg.

“Marci, please!”

The elf hisses back, not unlike a pestered kitty, and clutches your pack tighter to her chest. She glares through her lashes, kicking her legs out when Laios reaches to take your bag back.

Senshi shakes his head and rises from his own spot in the corner. Marcille’s gaze hones in on the dwarf instantly, and she whirls around to face the wall -- now caging your bag to her chest.

“Marci,” you retry weakly, “please, hoarding isn’t- !”

She silences you with another shortburst glare over her shoulder, “Who said I was hoarding?” she ‘hmph’s and shakes her head, “How do I know you won’t just eat it all as soon as I’m not looking?! Huh?! You’ve gone the longest without food after all!”

You gasp at the accusation, then sparing a glance up at Laios to see if he’s buying her tale, “How could you say that? I always share! It’s everyone’s food!”

“Marcille,” Senshi commands cooly, standing at your side, “you should know that isn’t like her. We all share our food so nobody goes hungry. To intentionally starve others is just cruel.”

“Exactly!” you plea, shakily reaching out only to yank your hands back to your chest when she snaps at your fingers with full teeth, “Just give it back, please?!”

Laios frowns, visibly uncertain how to bring you and Marcille back to the giddy lounging gals you were mere days ago, “Marcille, you two are friends -- if you know she’s never stolen before, why would she start now?”

Marcille sharply redirects her stare into the corner, shrugging and clutching the pouch tighter.

Chilchuck bangs his forehead into the door, “Children.”

“Marcille…” you whimper, hot in the face and barely believing you’re even telling the truth right now. You’re delirious with dehydration and hunger and skepticism that you’re being honest, making it hard to see straight. Elf and tall-man faces blur together, Senshi is blotted out by the black dots in the corners of your vision, and Chilchuck is a mere speck. Far, far away. You feel far, far away. Like you could die, like you’re dreaming, and oh as the words come out of your mouth you’re actually hoping that you are dreaming, “it’s empty.”

Every head snaps to you. All dizziness snaps into hyperawareness. At minimum it's two degrees colder than it used to be, you can hear the sound of your own breathing, and the smell of mold rots away every other scent in the room.

You shrink into yourself and barely scrounge the courage to keep from curling into a rocking ball of apologies. Your disbelief doubles when you realize you’re still looking Marcille in the face -- eye to devastated eye.

“It’s empty?”

“It’s empty…”

Senshi steps back from your side, you want to dig your nails into his ankles and drag him back. You don’t. Laios retreats as well and you selfishly wish he’d just pierce you with his sword, if only to end this humiliation and regret. Now that everyone’s staring at you, you realize you probably should’ve said something from the start.

“I thought maybe Chilchuck would’ve gotten us out by now… I didn’t think we’d still be here…” you try to reason.

The harsh clatter and clang of Chilchuck’s picks against the ground draws your attention, he’s got both hands knotted into fists. His face drawn in a slant, as if he’s silently asking you to repeat yourself. As if he didn’t quite catch that.

“Then it's my fault?” he swiftly dodges the arm Senshi puts out as a blockade, now in your face and far more threatening than usual, “You’re saying it’s my fault your pack is empty?”

“No! Just- !”

“So why even mention that?!” he huffs, “Why even say my name?”

“I just thought that once we were out we’d find more food and then it wouldn’t be a problem!”

“So you still wanted to lie to us?”

“I never said that! You’re putting words in my mouth! Stop putting words in my mouth!”

“Your plan was to intentionally hide the truth -- that’s lying!”

“No! It’s just hiding!”

Chilchuck screams, raw with frustration and unbridled by cumbersome words. He covers his face with both hands as if he’s in pain just to look upon you.

“I’m sorry!” you plea, now turning to Laios with weak sobs bubbling right beneath your skin. Your face feels as though it's been scorched with dragon’s fire, though your eyes are flooded wet, “I just didn’t want everyone to be scared. I would’ve told you once we were out! Promise!”

Laios always liked being close to you the best, including Falin. In the wake of her disappearance, his inclination towards your presence has only magnified. You engage his interest in monsters, you’re forward and blatant with your compassion, and your skin on his is always so soothing. Laios doesn’t guess if you’re genuine, he knows you are. He imagines that’s why when you touch him it’s so warm and calming whereas others’ makes him itch.

Your soul itself must be as sweet as the bottom innard of an ivy tentacle.

“I know,” Laios nods, smiling thinly, “I know you would’ve.”

If you say you thought it was for the best, then you really must have, and he can’t berate you for having a heart.

You return his grin threefold, overtly thrilled he’s believed in you, yet again.

“You’re kidding!” Chilchuck shouts, now tugging sharply at his hair in frustration, his face red, “Laios, how can you let her get away with this?!”

Marcille shoves your pack into your face, standing over your toppled form. She looks like she hates you.

Now you’re the one cradling a food-barren bag to your chest. Laios assists you to your feet, prying your bag from your arms with gentle fingers to settle it along the wall. It sags, giving way to its empty stomach and collapsing over itself, folding into halves.

Marcille inhales deeply, mouth popping open to speak, but it's your resident half-foot’s voice that cuts through the air.

“Why are you here?” Chilchuck grumbles, glaring up at you.

His sudden venom stuns you into silence. Chilchuck’s face round with a specifically unfamiliar malice. Through his wired irritation at mimics and tentacles, he has never looked so particularly irked. So vexed. He looks like he detests your very face.

“I need money…” you murmur, curling into yourself the longer his terrible stare goes, “Just like you…”

“No. You’re not just like me, we’re not alike,” he’s unnecessarily defensive at your claim, “I’m useful. I work. You don’t do anything. Why are you here?” he lowers his voice, but you can’t mistake the change for any sense of relief, “There’s lots of things you could do for money.”

“Chilchuck!” Marcille wails, eyes wide -- snapped from their previous disdain and now fraught with shock and dread, her hands hover at her chest as if she could physically slice, rearrange, and mend the tension, “Don’t say that!”

“Be nice,” you wring your hands, “Be nice to me,” you frown, “I didn’t want to work a hard job, and being a carrier pays well enough. Then, uh, then I thought maybe I could be useful if I died… I could be like a meat shield, and then when I die you could eat me. You know, if you ever got stuck down here… like now.”

Chilchuck guffaws, jaw dropping and brows furrowing in distraught, “Eat you?! You thought we would eat you?!”

“I wouldn’t be offended,” shrugging, you crane your head down before subtly ticking sideways towards Laios, “You’ve never eaten human, right? I’m sure it’d be interesting.”

“How could you say that?!” Marcille buds in, once again on the offense. Senshi lingers in the back of your party, beneath the shaded hood of his helmet his gaze is steely. Determinately opposed to your very ideals. He’s eerily quiet, as if complying with Chilchuck and Marcille’s side will mistakenly motivate your own. That, or he’s so horrified none of his nerve endings will respond to his brain.

Laios does not refute your claim.

He swallows roughly, eyes darting to the floor.

“Everyone,” still staring at the ground, Laios steps between your group’s semi-circle, “Enough fighting,” his voice is quiet, too, but not calm. Ragged and soft, exasperated, “Please, stop fighting.”

A sturdy markdown of your offer never escapes his lips, though.

You nod slowly, “I’m sorry for being so useless. I thought I was doing something good…”

“You do,” Laios takes you by the shoulder, spinning you the other way towards your lone mat. His voice grows quieter, by the echo you can tell he’s talking to the others now, “Don’t antagonize her.”

Your sleeping bag is cold, it ruffles stiffly everytime you move. The fluffed material beneath your head fares no better, frost biting your cheek and lapping your splayed, exposed eyeballs. Tears prick as both eyes crisp dry -- cooled droplets dripping across your cheeks. Sorrow mixes with the salt, you thought you were doing good.

Perhaps by volunteering yourself to be used to the very last shred of meat, you could be more treasured. Cowardice outweighed by willingly absorbing the worst of your party’s instincts. By this method, you are more desired.

So you thought, but you’ve been rejected.

Squealing with protest, your sleeping bag retches around shivery shoulders as you smush your quivering lips into the material of your mat.

“These past couple of days have been hard on you, huh?” Laios unrolls his own sleeping bag beside yours. You flinch at the unwelcomed rumble of his voice, unfortunately he continues, “I get it. Everyone’s on-edge,” his comforting words fail to reach you, he slips into his bag, staring at you, “I hope you’re not sleeping yet… That’d make this kind of pointless…”

“Laios.”

“There you are,” he sighs, relieved, and you cannot imagine why. You don’t think there’s anything to be relieved about as long as you’re around, sucking up space and precious resources.

“Laios,” you call, “We should just do it. Right here.”

“Huh?”

You twist your head to peek over your shoulder, chilled tears drying tracks into your cheeks, confirming each of your friends is tucked and slumbering on the other side of the room. Surely, none of them would hear so long as you didn’t fight back; and you’re certain you won’t. Laios isn’t the type to make you suffer. He knows you hate suffering. He isn’t sadistic, after all, the only pleasure he takes in killing is the follow-up: eating.

“You want to, right?” you usually wouldn’t be so daring as to make the suggestion on your own, but food supply has dwindled too drastically by now. Everyone else can maintain their delusion all they want, but you know Laios is not one to deny himself, “Laios, you want to?”

He inhales sharply, molten amber eyes blazing through your face -- faint candlelight shines against his irises and bounces back the lump of your silhouette. Stubbornly, he says nothing -- neither nodding or shaking his head. Instead, he lies still, as if bitten by a Cockatrice.

“We can do it right now. They’re all asleep.”

Laios sneaks a hand through the neckhole of his sleeping bag, arm slithering out to soothe the pad of his thumb over your cheek. Silently, he appreciates the roundness of your face, the slope of your neck.

He does want to sink his teeth in, but this feels stranger than consuming monsters. It stretches far past the walking mushrooms or slimes on the top level; the problematic nature of your proposal even surpasses Chilchuck’s humanoid debate. You’re not a mere humanoid -- you’re human. Another tall-man. Your muscle composition is just the same as his -- your skeletons indecipherable from one another.

It shouldn’t be difficult to decide, Laios knows that much. He shouldn’t have to think about it. He shouldn’t shut down every time you mention it.

Despite that, he does -- he considers how the flesh of another tall-man would roll between his molars. Would the meat be salty? Or savory? How much fat should he trim -- or should he boil it all down just to save?

But aside from that, the reason he wants to mark your neck is not those taboo urges. Completely unrelated, in fact.

Laios’ fingers trail from your pulse point, curving along your exposed shoulder and dipping beneath your bag to dig blunt nails into your arm.

“No,” he squeezes your shoulder in what he hopes is a reassuring gesture, “Not you,” his hand retracts, coiling back to his chest, “I don’t want to eat you.”

“We’ll all die…” you frown, eyes of an iridescent sunshine sheen maintain their hold on you, “It’s better for one to go rather than the rest of the party, right? I can be useful like that…”

“I don’t want to eat you.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah,” his eyes flutter shut, brows pinching towards the middle of his face. And he cares not for what that may say about him as a leader. He’d giddily offer up the entire party to be found by corpse retrievers before gobbling you down.

“But then why keep me around? I don’t do anything special like Chilchuck or Marcille. I can’t cook or fight like Senshi. And I’m nothing like you.”

“You don’t have to be,” he tucks his chin by his chest, still avoiding your stare, “I prefer you as you. I’m glad we know each other, I don’t care if you feel useless because you’re not. Just having you around makes me feel more alive. More excited to explore the dungeon, even before Falin got taken. I feel like I need you around more than before. Since Shuro said he hated me… I guess it’s been tougher to trust that I’m not annoying everyone. With you, though, I don’t even have to question it. Outside the dungeon, too, when we’re in town. It’s nice to be around you the most.”

His eyes are clenched tighter and tighter the longer his spiel goes on -- he cannot bear to look you in the eyes while guts and bile spew from his lips. His cheeks are red, raw from self-imposed exposure.

“Do you mean that?” you ask quietly, eyes so wide in shock he’s forced to meet them as he opens his own, “Am I useful to you, just because I’m me?”

He hums, nodding softly. Crude emotion overwhelms you at the admission; confusion and disbelief and desire tangle in your stomach, loose tendrils flapping up into your gullet and knotting around your uvula until you spit up a meek,

“Can I sleep with you?” as if he would refuse you, you tack on, “I don’t want to be alone.”

Wordlessly, Laios unzips his sleeping bag -- you crawl out from your own to invade his space. His body is soft yet firm against your back, and he makes a clear effort in keeping his breaths shallow. You can see the worsening red tint of his cheeks, even in the wavering candlelight.

Laios’ body goes limp once you’re settled beside him. Selfishly, you press into his lax form -- exhaustion and hunger making your head light. You’re not concretely sure you’re conscious right now. Maybe this is your final dream before you are culled by starvation.

Your stomach grumbles, and Laios pouts at the sound. Bringing one hand over his own abdomen, Laios edges his fingers around his ribcage. He can feel the bone’s impression. He hasn’t been able to feel the protrusion since splitting from the traveling caravan with Falin. He’s unaccustomed to starving himself, he’s unsure how much longer he can hold himself together. You, however, pay no mind to the sound.

You don’t so much as crimp into yourself.

“It’s kinda weird,” you muse suddenly, turning in Laios’ bag so your chest is pressed to his. Oddly, for all its intimate implications, the contact feels natural, “I hate suffering more than anything else, but I can’t bring myself to regret giving you my breakfast a couple days ago. Even though the suffering that nasty junk gave me was a lot better than how I feel right now.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Laios’ arms wrap around you, tucking you even closer to him and forcing your legs to mingle with his, “Eating is the best thing you could do for your body.”

“I’m happier you got to eat than I would’ve been after eating it. Besides,” you cant your head up, chin digging into the center of his thick chest -- looking up at Laios, “I prefer sleeping to nourish my body.”

“As soon as we’re out, you’ll have the most delicious meal we can make in the dungeon.”

He hugs you tighter.

You don’t dream that night. But Laios does.

pt 2 - rabbit eat dog

Laios’ cheeks sting in the frosty air, forearms and knees stubbornly tingling through the puffer of his red long-sleeve. Attempting to make out the space even five inches before his face is impossible through the thick, icy fog, but he knows the way. His feet pivot in perfect tune to each divot and roll of the plains.

He’s grown up here. Ran over these lands since he could lift one leg over the other, though now he is alone. Wandering with only the intent to find, and even then he is alone. Laios never feels more alone than when he is in a room full of people, at least in solitude he cannot be ridiculed or judged. Cowardly as it may seem to run from his problems, Laios chases relief -- where exactly that is, he’s unsure. His relief comes in forms that move, much more inconvenient than ale or tobacco but also much more divine. Moving sister, moving moon, moving monsters.

A cursory, confirming glance up gives sight to the real moon hanging above Laios -- a pale face beaming down to give light, only to be choked out by this unabating fog. Fond for night, Laios feels eased by the celestial. Nighttime, childishly, is something he’s always associated with terrible creatures in the bowls of dungeons. Besides that, is how quiet the house becomes past sundown, when the only conscious soul is his. Sometimes his sister stood up with him, too, and that was nice.

Nice, still, is the other moon’s presence. One less large and pale. One that walked at his side.

A soft glow scourges through the plumes of gray, encouraging Laios to quicken his pace. Warmth blooms across his frosted extremities, thawing stiff joints until suddenly he’s too hot beneath his puffer. Stripping the material, he’s left to sweat in a simple pullover shirt as he begins stumbling towards the glow.

Fog clears, drifting apart seamlessly.

Laios trips abruptly, seemingly over his own footing, before tumbling to his knees, hands scraping on hidden rocks and dirt clots. His eyes water from the intense sear of light painting the ground.

“Hey.”

Laios, against better intuition, feels a bizarre sense of calm wash over him at the voice’s intrusion. Perhaps specifically because of whose voice calls to him.

You loom over his huddled frame, just as bright and welcoming as the moon, and just as pretty too. Prettier, he corrects.

“Hi,” he returns your greeting lamely, rising slowly to a stand.

“You look hungry.”

Recently, Laios has discovered that even after a hearty meal his appetite is not quite satiated. During the brief moments where his mind can wander, he spends it contemplating what he could be eating in that moment. Well, that when he’s not thinking about you. While his stomach is not a bottomless pit ever unfilled, more often than not he’s adopting the attitude of well, i could eat. Not quite greed, not quite temperance. He’ll take what is offered and be gracious.

So, yes, in short, Laios supposes he is always hungry. Admitting that to you is particularly embarrassing, however, because you never seem hungry. Even when your stomach sings with starvation, your discomfort is completely invisible.

He used to assume it was your resilience -- a sign of your courage, to continue adventuring regardless of your terror.

(now, he’s starting to think differently, with your fresh disposition of raw nerves and desperation to be enjoyed)

“You’re hungrier, right?”

“Not really.”

“Oh…” he’s unsure how to respond. Trapped to stare at you while you stare back.

These parts of the fields are entirely unfamiliar to Laios.

“You should be hungry,” he tries to reason.

“Why?”

“Don’t know. Just a feeling, really.”

“What should I eat?” you frown, inching closer.

“Whatever you want,” he answers honestly. Laios believes in free will, but in some strange, completely unintelligible way, he thinks you deserve the most free will. He thinks you should do whatever you want, whenever you want, and he’s left confused how you don’t feel the same.

(feasibly in light of the night’s cannibal-themed fight) You suddenly suggest, “What about you?”

Laios freezes at that, all fire radiating from you icing over in an instant. Gaze sinking to his feet. Could he realistically agree to that? End his life to feed you? Does his devotion stretch so far?

Laios would hate to (permanently) die… but he would hate more for you to (permanently) die before him.

He dodges your question with one of his own, “Would you still like me if I was a monster?”

When he’s feeling distinctly indulgent, Laios flashes into long past fantasies of becoming a tri-headed beast.

And if he were to become one, would you gaze upon him just as kindly? Would Laios still be Laios to you?

His eyes follow each twinge in your face as you think, brows scrunching and bottom lip sucked between your teeth. Eventually you nod, slow and measured, “Yes. I would.”

Laios believes that, honestly. You would have to. You’re just that amazing. So, he should be amazing in equal measure -- or more, he should aim to impress you with his greatness.

So, yes. If you really wanted to. He could feed you with himself.

…

You wake up feeling unrefreshed.

Senshi, Marcille, and Chilchuck continue to bar themselves across the room from you. Laios freely travels from one end to the other despite your party’s annoyance with him. Grumbling stomachs echo from each person in the group now, and you wonder if maybe you should circumvent Laios’ rejection to feed your friends anyway. To make up for your various mistakes and blunders. It's only right.

You stare at Chilchuck’s back -- his arms no longer flailing with movement, hands instead paused around the box lock itself. He’s glaring at the mechanism, you think he’s hoping nobody notices his lack of effort. Marcille and Senshi are murmuring amongst themselves, casting wry glances your way every other sentence. Perhaps they’re discussing potential ways to make you suffer when they finally gut you.

You wouldn’t fight back, you know you wouldn’t. For the good of the pack’s survival, you’ll let them feast upon you.

(it does not once cross your mind that they could be talking about how to best convince you you’re wrong for writing your own consumption off so easily)

Laios sits at your back. Not moving. Not touching. Watching.

Your eyes drift from Chilchuck’s petrified frame to the floor, then to one cobbled block slightly lower than the others. About an inch below level, but not sunken in completely: the stone Senshi stepped on.

“Senshi?” you call.

No response.

“Hey, Senshi?”

He’s staring at you, but his eyes are hard to make out beneath his helmet. You shift upon your knees despite Laios’ soft bleat of disapproval. Marcille now stares as well, eyes much easier to spot when they’re wide with worry.

“I think this stone is…” you shove the step with your meager might and it budges a mere centimeter.

Laios’ hand overlaps yours, pushing down as well. The stone thuds loudly, and Chilchuck suddenly jumps back as the spears clink and shoot into the holed ground. He rockets back up to fuddle the lock, this time it clicks and pops open first try.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Chilchuck kicks up at the retreating bars in vain. He whirls around to see you and Laios hunched over the stone and sighs, silently passing you both to collect his bags and exit.

Senshi and Marcille follow example.

Laios unlatches from your back, and you miss his warmth more immediately than you thought you would.

“I think I should leave the party.”

“Why?” he frowns so genuinely, you’d be unable to buy his cluelessness if you hadn’t known him for so long.

“They don’t like me anymore,” you settle both hands in your lap, plucking at the skin around your nails, “They know I’m useless.”

“So?” his tone is soft, so opposite to his callous start, “I want you here more than anybody. I’m happy to have people I trust and who are good at their work, but I think if you didn’t come with us back into the dungeon, it’d be another thing I’m always thinking of instead of what’s in front of me. And nobody gets my fascination with monsters like you do.”

“Senshi does…”

“I like you more than I like Senshi.”

“Why?”

Laios opens his mouth, teeth white and glistening in the soft flicker glow of dancing orange candle flame. You await his bite. He closes his mouth. You wish you were so confident to pry it wide and press yourself into his cheeks. You wish he’d just eat you whole. Spare no mind to how the others thought of it. If they won’t accept you bones and all, then you’ll continue to long for Laios. You can do that easily. You’ve been an expert in the matter since you joined his group.

“Nobody else will take me, Laios,” you greedily grasp him by the shoulder, “I’m being so selfish, but I need you to- !”

He slaps your hand away, reaching over your offending hands to snag you by your own shoulders, “I don’t want to hear that, you shouldn’t talk like that! You deserve to live, and eat, just like everyone else! We’re friends as much as we are party members, right? They wouldn’t stick around if they weren’t. Your friends wouldn’t want you to be eaten either.”

You glance at the archway, none of the three others are visible, “Is that why they were mad?”

“I can’t speak for them, but you should be up front about how you feel. Talk to them before leaving,” he lowers his head, “If you’re planning to leave still, anyway. Though, I really hope you stay.”

Laios is too afraid to say he’ll beg, if it would enrich the offer. The mere idea of your face twisting angrily or an annoyed rejection slipping past your lips kills him. With both you and Falin gone, Laios would feel a sense of estrangement he hasn’t since his army days. Loneliness amplifying until it's unable to be ignored. The grief and confusion of your loss would muddy the remaining friendly faces in his party -- the taste of monsters would even be dulled. Humiliation would rattle his sense of self everytime he remembered that you’re not even dead, just drifted away.

He’d never survive without you, but he refuses to steal your entire life that mercilessly so he pretends he could.

“If we all just talk to each other, then nobody has to get hurt,” Laios’ hands lower to yours, he squeezes gently while avoiding your eyes, choosing to study the way you lean into his touch, “I don’t want you to go. And I don’t want them to be hurt.”

“Okay,” you rise onto unsteady feet.

Laios separates from you to begin stowing away both your belongings while you squirm into the hallway in front of your party. They shuffle awkwardly, with only Senshi capable of meeting your eyes. Yet he stands the furthest from you.

“I- “ the words dance over your tongue, you thought you were prepared to say them. You’ll leave. You’ll leave. You’ll leave. But you can’t. The words trip and fall and tumble back into your throat before you surrender, “I don’t want to leave the party, but I am sorry for lying. I know I don’t do much, but I love adventuring with everyone. Really, I only- !”

“We were stressed,” Marcille steps forward, releasing one hand from Ambrosia to lay on your hand, “I don’t think it’d be easy on anyone to say the leftovers were actually gone. Especially when you knew that’s what we were relying on to not starve.”

Senshi nods slowly, “We weren’t expectin’ you to run off as apology. You’re young, you make mistakes.”

Marcille elbows your party’s half-foot.

Chilchuck sighs, shaking his hands out at his sides in the way your father used to, “I’m sorry. For calling you useless. I get why you lied, I probably would’ve done the same thing in your position to keep the party from freaking out. But, please,” his usually (deceptively) friendly and pleasant face has morphed into one of weary, a grown man concerned for a child, “Never say anything like that again. We don’t want you dead, let alone to eat your body. You have to plan to stay alive with everyone else, otherwise what’s the point of even joining the party?”

“Right. Sorry,” you blurt, increasingly ashamed of your suggestion earlier.

Their rejection stems not from disgust, then, but love.

They don’t want to eat you because to them you shouldn’t even die.

What a strange conclusion to now be forced to draw. You’re not sure how to swallow it, every time you try it rushes back up. Your friends’ concerned faces give you the determination to keep trying, though.

Laios barrels through the doorway -- redressed in his armor with the remaining bags slung over his shoulders, grinning broadly, “Looks like we can start walking again.”

Much to everyone’s chagrin, the trek towards the next floor begins on an empty stomach. When you reach up for the packs you usually carry, Laios jerks them from your grasp, you whine quietly, “Hey, that’s my job!”

“I know,” he shrugs the bags around his broad frame to fit them more comfortably, “but you haven’t eaten longer than me, and you didn’t sleep very well last night. So let me.”

His strides quicken until he’s by Senshi, you watch him point towards you and Senshi hums thoughtfully.

Your stomach rolls with hunger, and the sting makes you reach out for Laios. You slip your arms around one of his and cradle his elbow into your gut, reducing the ache with a different digging sensation. Laios leans towards you to make the work easier, all while continuing his conversation with Senshi about what the most delicious dungeon meal they could make you would be.

~~~

i like relationships where they dont understand each other but want to try anyway :3

i also love writing readers that are insane and fundamentally insufferable, but still loved

[bangchansgirlsblog]

Push and pull.

Warning:  Angst

Pairing: skz x 9th member

Summary: The constant pressure of being a girl in a group of boys is crazy but crazier when your looked at like a fragile baby.

!not proofread so forgive me for mistakes!

**

“Oppa just tell me what’s wrong pleaseee?” She begged, “I also care about you and you need to calm down. This is scaring me,”

"No I want to only talk to the boys, please Y/n?" He said and It stung. 

Han had been having a mental breakdown and had been crying for an hour straight. They had just arrived from practice when he decided to brush everyone off and leave to go to his room where Y/n had been begging him to come out of.

"Okay," She softly said and left the room. Was she not going enough for him? Did he not like her? The thoughts run through her head as she laid in bed trying not to cry. The pain of feeling neglected was slowly eating her alive.

She had been begging him to tell her what had happened but he refused. He didn't want to tell her what was going on but once the boys walked in back from their schedules, he wanted to speak to them straight away. Leaving Y/n sad and confused. 

She decided to to finish some work as she waited for the boys to finish talking to Han but even then her heart wasn't settled. She wasn't able to concentrate. The guilt was eating her up. It made her feel sick. So she decided to go make herself some tea and that's when she run into Felix in the kitchen making some brownies.

"Hey Felix," she softly smile and greeted him.

"Hey Y/nnie!" He beamed and waved at her then continued to mix the mixture in the bowl. "where you able to get more tape for your knee?"

"yeah i was, Eunwo (their manager) was able to get me some on our way back," she explained while she got a glass of water. "What are you doing?"

"Making brownies for Hannie, he isn't feeling the best," Y/n turned to look at his older brother.

"Can I please know why?" She took the chance to get it out of Felix because she knew Felix wasn't their strongest soldier when it came to keeping secrets from one another.

"No I'm sorry, Han said not to tell you," he looked back at the butter quickly trying to avoid the eye contact.

"But Lix-"

"No I'm not telling you, it's not my secret to tell," he cut her off and continued his work. He felt really bad for leaving her out but he knew himself he couldn't spill anything just yet.

"Okay, fine be a meanie,"  She softly sighed and got her cup of now iced coffee.

"No don't be like that, Han will tell you when his ready," he pouts walking over to her to her. hoping that someway he could fix the situation. 

Everyone knew that Y/n felt left out most of the times because she was the only girl and sometimes the boys had things they couldn’t tell her or share with her but other than that they told her everything and they tried to make her feel apart of the group. 

Since felix was the most sensitive and softest out of everyone he felt the need to protect her because felix did feel left out at a point when he couldn’t speak korean fluently and Y/ was the one who would stay up with him trying to help him study. In this case, Y/n was not feeling this 'brotherly' love. 

She shrugged his hands off and took a step back trying to get out of his reach. "I'm his bestfriend too, I'm part of this team too but I keep being treated like I'm an outsider," She let out a sigh and wiped the rolling tear. Trying to make sure Felix didn't see her cry.

"No don't cry please," he begged but she simply walked past him but ofcourse felix tried to follow but she stopped him and continued into her room where she locked the door and stayed there for the rest of the evening.

When it was time for dinner she went outside to grab the stuff she had ordered since leeknow wasn't cooking tonight and she sat on the empty dining table. Everyone was still sat in Han's room and there were a few empty cups on the table meaning they had all eaten already.

Felix had left her a plate of brownies for desert and a cup of milk so atleast she knew they still acknowledge her. As she sat there she got bored and saw it was 8pm.

So since she had nothing planed for the evening she decided to get up, put everything away and grab her training stuff to head to the jyp building. It was a short walk anyway and korea was a safe place to be wondeirng at night. The builidng looked quite empty but a few people were locking up and packingup to head home.

She scanned the hallways for an empty room and she finally did find one but was soon interrupted but Jae Beom and his crew. His smile was bright and he was so excited to see her.

"Y/nnie!"

"Oppa!" she squealed. Her sad aura was now replaced with happiness at the sight of her favorite older brothers. She quickly run over and age each of them hugs while saying hello.

"What are you doing here so late? Where are your brothers?" He asked dropping his practice bag and walking back over to her. He pulled her in a hug once again. Although they worked in the same company they barely saw each other due to schedules and stuff.

"Han wasn't feeling well so they are taking care of him and I decided to come practice," She explained. The boys were now all paying close attention to her.

"Ahhh I see! Can we join you?" Mark asks. His hands were in his pockets and they all didnt have makeup on so it meant that they were also here just for free practice.

"Yes sure, I need company anyway," She smiled and headed over to the laptop that was by the speakers. "What should we start with?"

"Can you teach us S-class? Its so hard and we've been trying to learn it," Jackson pouts and raffles her hair,

"Yeah the hand movement is impossible!" Jinyoung chirps in.

She giggled at this because they all reminded her so much of her little brothers back at home when S-class had just come out. "Sure, I can its not that hard," the groans in response made her laugh fill the room so she just played the song and they all run through it as she taught them step by step and by the time they were done, it was 1 in the morning. ONE IN THE MORNING? fuck.

She quickly took out her phone from her bag and looked at it to see thousands of missed calls and (as if in cue) that's when Hyunjin and I.N slammed the door open. they were both panicked and Hyunjins phone was ringing alot while I.N was frantic talking to someone of his phone.

"There you are!" Hyunjin exclaimed panting and huffing. "We've been calling, texting and even fucking tracking your phone, why wouldn’t you tell us your here? This is extremely dangerous Y/n! Oh my God!"

"Y/nnie! do you know how worried we were?! Chan hyung and Leeknow hyung are on some road screaming your name looking for you everywhere," I.N yells at her causing her to jump at the sudden loud voices.

"My phone was off, I was just practicing here-" she tried to explain but was interrupted immediately. 

"Okay, it doesn’t matter now, let's go home, we were worried sick, hang on...grab your stuff," he got out his phone and started talking to someone that sounded like Chan. With the way Hyunjin was cringing she knew she was dead meat. 

She quickly grabbed my Bags, her laptop and quickly said bye to everyone who were also as terrified as she was but they totally understood and told her to just be safe and to text them. She quickly made her way behind Hyunjin and I.N who were towering over her. Once hyunjin hang up the phone finally, he slowed down so he was walking by her side.

"Never do that again please,"

"But I was just with my friends,"

"You know we don't trust you in a room full men," he softly says ruffling his hands through her hair.

"Yeah I know, I know. I'm in shit, i've accepted it," she groaned but remembered the only reason she was in this mess, "Is Hannie okay now?"

"Yeah he is and he wants to talk to you," She look up at him confused. Her heart jumping. 

"What about?" she asked on a confused tone. Hyunjin glances over at I.N who gulps. They both look at eachother as if communicating.

"Felix said that you were upset-"

"I wasn't upset really," She quickly explained.

"Oh well now you can explain that to him anyway but right now those are your least of your worries cause Chan is going to kill you in cold blood," I.N takes of his jacket and hands it to her. she was freezing and she was wearing a tank top but luckily I.N had a hoodie and jacket on.

Ugh. She sighed softly when they arrived to the house. She stopped causing the boys to look at her confused. Her worries and sadness came washing over her. With the way she had fun at the studio with her other brothers she had totally forgotten the depression she was facing at home.

She took a deep breath (quite dramatically) earning a chuckle from both boys and she walked up the stairs into the house where Chan and Leeknow were Ofcourse sitting on the dining table with a coffee mug both. She couldn't even sneak past them which was her only hope in avoiding them. She quickly turned around but was met with Hyunjins chest. sigh.

"Stop, turn around and sit," Chan voice was loud meaning he was serious. she quickly followed his instructions and sat on the chair across both of them.

"What time is it?" He squints his eyes and looks at her.

"1:30 Oppa," she sighed and looked down at her fingers. 

"Why would you leave the house without letting us know? What if something had happened and we didn't know-"

"Your always scolding me and not treating me like an adult," she snapped at him. This made Hyunjin stop in his tracks and turned back and I.N  paused whatever he was doing to over at them. Never ever did she snap at the boys especially chan because she loved them and they were older than her so she was so respectful. This was a shock and the gasp that left leeknows lips was evidence.

"That's not true I always treat you like an adult," Chan defended himself. 

"You don't Oppa! You don't get it, just because I'm 19 doesn't mean I'm a kid, I'm only one year younger than I.N and he gets treated like an adult, everything I do you guys have to be there watching and whenever you guys have conversations I'm pushed to the side. Yes I get I'm a girl and I'm young but it doesn't mean I'm not part of the team, I'm allowed to walk out the house right now if I wanted to, if I wanted a babysitter I would have hired you a long time," 

"Y/n dont raise your voice at hyung like that. Its not right," Leeknows eyes were red. he was pissed off and it was clear. 

"Dont talk to me like that Y/n. If you have a problem you tell me, you dont yell. Look at me when im talking to you," She looked up at him. He looked tired, frustrated and mad. He had to first deal with Han...now this?

"fine sorry," she was done. she was done with this conversation, she was done with the boys, she was done with everything. She stood up and stormed out the room. Chan following right behind her 

"We're not done here young lady, You think i want this? you think i want to constantly be checking on you? you think i want to be. You keep acting childish thats why i have to keep tabs on you!" with every second he was getting louder and louder. 

"Chan dont, lets go calm down-" leeknow grabs his arm trying to keep him away.

"Y/n go to your room," Changbin interferes trying to break the two up. 

"See!" she exclaimed and walked into her room shutting it and locking it.

[nouearth]

baby-sitting for miguel o'hara. (part ii)

miguel o'hara x m!reader headcanons.

part i.

warnings: smut, perverted!miguel, top!miguel, soft!miguel at times!!, bottom!male reader, small!male reader, thoughts of sex, fantasy!sex, masturbation, humping, kinda domestic idk.

notes: it's been a long time coming. 💀 i honestly was struggling to find like a plot for the second part, or just how to move forward. lmao. but i hope this turned out okay???

—never again, miguel promised himself that night. 

—it had been a few weeks since he last jerked off to your briefs. the blue undergarment that he came into were thrown somewhere under his bed, far from his reach.

—and as tempting as it was to smell you again, he mustered up the courage to leave the stained fabric alone. 

—for good.

—miguel despised what he had become.

—settling his sex life on a lone piece of fabric, it was pathetic. 

—from dusk til dawn, you participated in a triathlon of his delirious state of mind and competed for several awards that would then be mediated by miguel. 

—had it been a real competition, he would’ve been fired for exhibiting extreme favoritism because you’d win all the trophies and medals.

—a ‘helping hand’ award he would award you a few mornings ago, where he jerked off to the thought of you giving him a handjob during his lunch break.

—multiple ‘most improved’ awards for when you were able to throat his cock a little more than before.

—and another for when your ass was able to take miguel in without needing to pause or adjust for his size, even if the strain of your facial expressions told a different story.

—gagging in between moans, coughing out thick globs of spit, wincing in bittersweet pain when he pushed in, arching in complete pleasure when he pushed out.

—he loved the idea of watching and hearing you struggle because of his cock.

—though, it was only until recently when he began feeling a strong sense of guilt for portraying you in such a manner.

—it was a promotion at work that allowed his hours to be more flexible than before, and miguel utilized that to the fullest by spending every waking second with his daughter.

—and you.

—even when he came home early, he never sent you home.

—maybe it was the perfect opportunity to get one step closer into your pants.

—or maybe he wanted to get to know the babysitter that gabriella had taken an extreme liking to.

—get to know the babysitter that had somehow made miguel feel something more than simply lust.

—you hungry? you haven’t taken your eyes off of your thesis paper since i got here.

—hm...?

—that night, you’d look up at him with those bright eyes, that bright smile that latched onto miguel’s adam apple and made it hard for him to swallow. 

—it was as radiant as the first time he saw you. one wouldn’t be able to tell that you’ve been pulling all-nighters for the past few weeks.

—oh! i guess i’m a little hungry. i haven’t eaten since breakfast—

—breakfast? i told you that you could rummage through the pantries, right? you practically live here at this point.

—i know, i know! once i get in the zone, i kind of forget about everything… except for gabriella! it’s funny. as loud as her cries are, they’re kind of my savior right now.

—hm...

—it’s getting late, so i’ll just whip up something at home—

—no, stay. i’ll cook something.

—sir, you don’t have to—

—miguel’s chest swelled. that word again.

—i’m cooking. stay, or i’m firing you for wasting my ingredients.

—hey, unfair! pretty sure that’s a violation of our contract or something!

—it didn’t take long for it to become a regular occurrence.

—miguel would cook a late dinner for two, and he’d join you on the couch with a plate of what the limit of his culinary skills could whip up. 

—it wasn’t like this every day, but it was often, which was more than what miguel could ask for.

—he would use the little time he had with you to learn about you more. your interests, your background, your passions, your personality, and you’d do the same. 

—on some nights, he’d proof-read your thesis paper and provide some feedback that you would immediately take in consideration and make the changes to your paper.

—on many nights, he’d simply close your laptop and force you to take a break because as alluring as those recent eye bags were, your health was a priority.

—stay for the night. it’s late.

—i’m almost done for the night! i just have a few more—

—nope, you’ve used up all your excuses. i’m confiscating this.

—where am i even supposed to sleep?!

—and on those many nights, you’d end up sleeping on miguel’s couch despite the persistent offers of his comfier bed.

—there would be times where you two would chat into the night while the tv played in the background. 

—you’d ask each other about your day, tell stories about gabriella, bond over shared interests, fueled debates over a quality of a certain movie, until fatigue hit either you or miguel.

—usually you were the first one to fall asleep, and he would watch you silently.

—the flickering lights from the tv would accentuate your features in the night, and he never knew he could find you even more handsome.

—your complete vulnerability was enticing. 

—you would curl into the blanket he’d given you, and miguel would take the time to count the seconds it would take for you to exhale your dreams.

—the longer it was, the deeper you were into your sleep.

—it wouldn’t be until thirty exhales more that miguel would send himself to bed.

—five seconds, miguel would find himself mimicking the pattern of your breath before he drifted off into the night.

—then there would be nights where the subject matter would be more personal, more than miguel would have liked.

—does it get lonely sometimes?

—i’d be lying if i said no. not all the time, though. i have gabriella.

—huh…

—is that why you’re a complete grump all the time?

—watch it.

—i’m kidding! good thing you have me too, right?

—yeah.

—good thing i have you too… miguel sighed heavily at the empty side of his bed, staring into the darkness until the shadows from the night had forged a shape of your body.

—he closed his eyes when he felt a whisper of your lips near his, barely ghosting over his pair, and stroke himself to the possible reality of you becoming his. 

—fuck... he then lied on his stomach and began humping into the bed, against the bed sheets, and held the imagination of your body close to his own, protecting you like his life depended on it.

—i need you… miguel pressed his face into the pillow, inhaling the memory of your shampoo as he polished his hips further into the bed. 

—his cock rubbed in between his body and the soft sheets as he’d imagine unsheathing himself in and out of you at a slow yet steady pace.

—because he needed to savor you.

—he would imagine how you’d respond with every thrust. 

—your words would glue to your throat because you’d be too overwhelmed by his size, by the pleasure that miguel would finally be delivering to you, by the doting hold around you, and with the aid of his hips, your words would like crystallized honey.

—miguel would push his cock into you deeper, taking in the sound of your voice into his with a warm kiss. — i— 

—you would draw out sounds from your throat until they were practically begs when miguel would pull out excruciatingly slow to tease, then a demand as he would doubt your confession by cautiously following the outline of your pucker with the tip of his cock.

— need—

—his hips would lift, then come down onto you like hail. hard and sudden as his cock would ram into your tight fill, knock your breath back into the tight of your throat.

— you— 

—you need him. 

—miguel could tell from the way you completed allowed him to invade your reserve until he was balls-deep inside of you. 

—from the way he’d pull out once more and your hole would memorize the shape of his cock, down to his thick girth. puckering to the recollection of his throbbing veins.

—and he’d be the one to bridge the puzzle pieces together as he would press himself forward and bend your legs back before slamming his cock back into you  with the delirious evocation of lust.

—you would stifle your moans into your forearm as the bed rocked to the strong rhythm of miguel’s thrusts, but he’d pull your arms away and hold your wrists above your head.

—he needed to hear you.

—hear how much you wanted him, how much you needed him.

— i’m going to come—

—you’d grunt in between the heavy and sticky sounds of your skin colliding against one another, into the thick air that you and miguel had mutually forged together. 

—his other hand had been wrapped around your cock, jerking the throbbing muscle to every count of his balls bouncing off your bottom. 

—he would squeeze and stroke, your pre-cum coming down in thick drips, and he would thumb at the slippery wet slip until the pad of his thumb was layered in your thick substance.

—until his fist was covered in a glorious amount of your warm cum, inking him deep with your devotion before feeding you of your own need. 

—he would bring his hand up to you and slip two fingers inside of your mouth. your tongue would slowly roll over his cum-covered digits, sucking the bittersweetness off of him.

—it wouldn’t be long until it would be miguel’s turn. 

—miguel would continue bringing the remaining fingers up to your mouth for you to cleanse him off, and it would be enough for him to have him in shambles.

—imagining you devour your own sweet lust until all five of his fingers were polished clean awakened him to another level of pure ecstasy, and miguel groaned, rocking desperately into his bed.

—your warm hands would all over his toned body, fueling the tension in his stomach as you would prioritize the center of his abdomen.

—fuck, come in me—

—miguel would his weight onto you, his large body practically devouring you in sheer size as the heat and sweat confined you to the parameters, and he’d hold you close once more by slipping his arms around you.

—a cycle of thrusts quickened every round and you held onto him. kissing at the side of his neck. suckling at the round of his shoulder. 

—i’m coming… he muttered to himself, to no one but the wrinkled sheets beneath him, and fucked his cock harder into his bed.

—and when you heard a shudder coming from the depths of miguel’s strained throat, you licked a stripe at the center of his throat to pacify him, making your way to the plush of his lips, and kissed him at the pivot of his climax.

—miguel would exhale hard against your mouth before kissing you and spilling delirious moans into the captivity when he would begin flooding your insides with his thick and warm cum. 

—heavy ropes would ricochet off your violated inside, but miguel would press into you closer, harder, and intimately so, until your foreheads were bruised into one another.

—in occurring reality, miguel painted his bed sheets in thick layers of warmth and musk. layers of cum wetting his bed as he desperately held onto his fantasies with sensitive rolls of his hips.

—his tongue would tangle into yours, practicing a slow, sensitive waltz as his softening cock would sink deep into your hole. 

—and you would moan and suckle around him as you felt every drop of cum warm you from the inside and out, shielding you from the goosebumps that would frost your skin.

—the kiss would remain its passionate dance as you both relaxed into each other. your legs unwrapped to tangle into miguel’s, expertly lifting the blanket over your feet in the process. 

—he would hold you tighter once he broke the kiss, turning you on your side as he lied flat on his back. 

—your head would rest on his chest after pulling the remaining blanket up to your bodies and you would sigh, suddenly feeling drowsier with miguel’s warm caress aiding sleep against your back.

—for the remaining moment, he would gaze at the sheen of sweat that highlighted the flush of your skin. 

—he would listen to the beat your heart, slowly coming to its resting pace as you succumb to sleep under the spell of his doting touch.

—and he would strangely feel a need to hold you, shelter you inside of his arms because he feared something would happen to you.

—fuck.

—miguel quickly rolled back onto his back in the midst of catching his breath, the shadows that had formed the image of you unfurling into obscurity. 

—he felt his heart race, bullets rebounding off the beating surface like a drum, and he placed a hand over his chest to pacify at the sudden swell of his chest. —i think i love you.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Hiii!, I actually saw ur last post (the arranged marriage with some bonten members) n I wanted to ask for a second part with the other bonten members if u could ofc! Thank u for reading my request n I hope u have a good day ! :3

Of course!!! Here are Koko, Rindou, Mochi and Kakucho!

Koko-

Hates this idea at first but completely pushes his feelings aside for the good of the gang. After all, this will mean more money for them right? They'll be even more successful? 

He's polite to you and makes sure you have everything you need but he's never around, he avoids you whenever he can. There's no love in this marriage and Koko doesn't even want to pretend there is. You're not her, the one he was supposed to marry. 

You keep doing all these little things for him though. Greeting him whenever he is home, making sure he's eaten, and you're always smiling so nicely at him. It doesn't take long for him to develop a crush.

He mentally argues with himself a lot over you. He wants you, craves you, needs you but his guilt won't go away. You're not her and maybe that's a good thing but the thought of that makes him feel so guilty. 

Sometimes he has nightmares that she's mad at him for moving on, other times he sees you in a burning building with him being unable to save you. 

There is no easy fix for the things he's been through but because of you he decides to change and realises he needs to let Akane go. It's a long process, but at least you'll have each other. 

Rindou-

Honestly thought the whole arranged marriage thing was a joke at first. Couldn't see why it would be him either, especially not with Ran right there, isn't he the one everyone picks?

Doesn't expect this to go well and it shows in the way he acts towards you. He doesn't do anything wrong exactly, he's just a bit cold. Like he's putting up a wall between the two of you. 

He's very surprised when he actually does start liking you. You're easy to talk to and fun to tease and you seem to genuinely like him. Still finds himself a bit unsure to show he likes you though, the two of you will be laughing together one minute, having a good time until he suddenly frowns and excuses himself. 

It takes a push from Ran to make Rindou tear the walls he put up down. It was just a simple comment, something Ran tried to tease him with "well if you don't want her I'd be more then happy to keep her with me". It made his blood boil, you're not Ran's wife, you're his. Comes home quickly after that where you're waiting for him, asking him what's wrong. It all spills out then, all of his feelings for you, how unsure he is and how he refuses to lose you. 

Rindou thinks nothing has ever felt better then you reassuring him after he told you everything. Vows from then on to be the best husband he can for you and does a great job at it (Ran of course takes credit for all of this). 

Mochi-

The first thing he ever says to you in private is an apology. He knows you probably didn't want this, that you must've had dreams of marrying someone precious to you. So he decides to give you the best life possible.

Get's a bit confused about how nice and loving you are towards him, tells you that you don't need to pretend, he doesn't expect you to love him anyway. 

Works a lot of extra hours to let you be alone more often. He figures you'd prefer more time with the house to yourself but you keep calling and texting him. Telling him about your day, checking up on him, even sending him cute pictures and videos you find online. Your actions don't match his assumptions.

One day he just sits down with you and asks you exactly what you want from him and this marriage. He's very surprised to hear that you care for him and want to be a proper husband and wife. 

Mochi had never actually considered his feelings towards you but could definitely see himself happily being with a girl like you. So he let's you love him and let's himself fall for you too. 

Kakucho- 

The perfect gentleman, he's nothing but kind and caring towards you, always putting you first and taking your feelings into consideration. Sure he was surprised by the whole arranged marriage thing at first but he's determined to make sure you have a good marriage. 

He gets home from work, always answers that his day was fine then focuses on you and how you're feeling/ doing. He never tells you anything about his work or how he is. 

Sometimes you can tell he's tired or that it's been a tough day from the look in his eyes. But he never "bothers" you with that stuff. 

Marriage isn't a partnership for Kakucho, you're someone he cares about, someone he needs to take care of, protect. 

"Hey you can tell me yknow, you can let me in and lean on me sometimes too" It takes you being honest with Kakucho and telling him to open up to you, to treat this marriage as a partnership for things to change.

Kakucho's so used of being the one taking care of others, of keeping everything bottled up that you genuinely catch him off guard. He never even imagined this type of thing would bother you, that you would want to take on some of his burdens. But of course he promised to give you everything you wanted so he let's you. It's the start of how you two really started your partnership. 

[causenessus]

try again

part 0.11. HERE TO STAY

“on the other side of the wall, she’s listening to her client with a smile on her face. she’s a professional; she’s been trained to multitask and take notes while still listening and providing feedback to her clients. right now, she’s clicking off a tab back to the one filled with bullet points on things her client has said. she always knows when he arrives. she hears the left door open, which she knows because it squeaks more than the one on the right. he always uses the left door (she thinks it has something to do with the fact that more people touch the handle of the right door on their way in) and his paces are always steady down the creaky hallway. her last sign that he's here is the chair he sits in every time, the one right next to the door into her rooms. the legs are the slightest bit uneven and the back of the chair will lightly tap against the wall as its way of letting her know of her welcome guest. she already has her queue of songs up. she’s always hated her thin walls until he started coming in. a lot has changed in her life since he's come back, hasn't it?"

content warnings: the big finale which isn't that dramatic! i'm sorry for my bad writing! y/n dad reveal! breaking news: her dad is an asshole! tad bit of violence, one mention of blood and also just cursing and abusive fathers </3

he insists on paying and she doesn’t argue with him about it for long; she’ll have countless more opportunities to steal the check from him, she hopes.

she feels better when she's finally eaten after a day of nervous nausea and time spent anxiously bouncing her knee. on top of that, she’d been with him for the majority of the day, distracting her from what had happened in the morning. he even listened to her issues, and she’s finally starting to believe the promise that he’s here to stay. 

they’ve just stepped off the train, and her apartment building is only a few minutes away. he walks alongside her the entire time, their arms brushing each other ever so often. whether it’s on purpose or not, neither of them will fess up.

he’s only distracted from his time spent mindlessly reaching his arm out just the slightest bit more to hit hers ever so often when he feels a buzz in his pocket. he slips out his phone quickly to check its screen:

akaashi’s a moment too late, because they’ve just made it up the stairs to her floor.

she’s already seen him, and he’s already seen her.

she wants to puke. 

he’s there, arguing with iwaizumi outside their door. his sunken eyes and gaunt face make her stomach twist with guilt, but a brush from omi’s knuckles reminds her where she is again. it’s not her job to take care of him. it never was, and it never will be.

"you," the man is pointing a finger towards her, stumbling forward and she immediately shrinks back like a shriveling flower, losing her confidence. omi's already standing in front of her without even thinking about it, putting a barrier between the two.

the old man keeps talking as if he can see right through him, though “you’re a disrespectful worthless piece of shit, you know that? can’t ever in your life put even a single person about yourself. here you are living with a bunch of boys. what are you, a whore? do you suck them off so they’ll keep the bad guys away? they’re doing a shit job at it. i’m standing here after, all, aren’t i?”

“it’s not like that,” her voice is quiet and weak, and she’s not even sure it makes it to the man’s ears.

“you can’t think about anyone else. you're too selfish. you won’t even answer your own father’s calls much less say anything to him at all–”

“i told you to back off!” her voice comes out loud this time, louder than she means for it to, “i’ve told you to back off so many times but you just don’t listen,” she steps out from behind omi, standing next to him instead while the man in front of them stops at the sound of her voice, “these are my roommates and my closest friends. i'm living with them because they genuinely care about me and aren't using me for any purpose, something you can't even dream about. the only reason you’re still standing here is that they have enough self-control and respect for me that they won't beat up the man i regrettably call my father.”

omi’s gaze slides over to hers, trying to see if she’ll meet his eyes. he’s simultaneously trying to communicate how proud of her he is and let her know that he'll support her no matter what happens. 

“take that back,” her father spits, starting to curl his fingers into a fist. she stays silent, and his face begins to flush an angry red. “you’re only proving my point. you’re just an ungreatful little girl who thinks she no longer has to care about anyone else because she's older. i took care of you your whole life and i will not have you ignoring me for the rest of my fucking life!” the smell of beer invades her senses as he steps closer.

“you did jackshit in my life! you never helped me with anything I asked you to. never bought me anything i needed, you've never cared about me. i’ve grown up and moved out. i can do whatever i damn please and i told you to leave me alone. maybe if you respected me i wouldn't ignore you, but that's impossible for you,” she retorts, standing her ground.

“don’t you fucking talk to me like that–” he nears her, only a few steps between them and she starts to feel the panic in her chest, “your stubbornness is the reason your mother left–”

“my stubbornness?” she can’t help but fight back. that’s what separates her from her past self. her younger self ran away, left home as soon as she could to live on her own, but now she’s grown into who she is today, and she won’t let him ruin that. “you treated your wife like shit and refused to change no matter how many times she screamed and argued with you right in front of me about how horrible you were. you've never fixed anything because you’re so stuck up and think you’re so high and mighty that she decided to pack up her bags and leave–”

“then why did she leave you behind too?” 

it’s like her heart stops beating for a second. her blood runs cold before her vision is a blur and the face of the man is crushed right in front of her, sending him to the ground groaning. his hand is covering his nose, preventing her from seeing how badly damaged it is, but she can’t find it in her to care.

“don’t blame her for your faults. grow up and take responsibility for your shit. she deserved better than either of you,” omi is talking down on the man now, and she looks up from her father’s body to the fist of the boy beside her, bruised and a little red.

he’s been by her side since day one, and maybe he disappeared for a section of it, but now he’s back. they're back together, and she stands proudly beside him, “she left me too, but i can’t be mad at her for being sick of you. or us. whatever it is, you’re both selfish and her absence nor yours is something i’m mourning over. i’m happy to have left you too and for the last time, i never want to see you again”

iwaizumi has joined them, standing above the man, no trace of sympathy in his eyes despite the blood that's streaking down her father's face. he tries to get up, only for iwaizumi to keep him down on the ground with a foot on his shoulder, “you heard her. don’t ever show your fucking face around here again. i’ll kill you the moment i lay eyes on you.” iwaizumi’s olive eyes move from the ground to meet hers, slightly softening when he sees her, “are you done with him? i’ll make sure he gets out of here and stays away for good.”

omi’s words from the diner rush back to her head, and she doesn’t feel so bad for relying on her friend. she believes he's willing to help her, and she won’t let her father’s words get to her head. she’s cared for others, unlike him, and developed relationships that she’s earned by giving out her own love. “yeah, i’m done,” her voice is quiet again as she keeps looking at her friend, searching his eyes for any sort of annoyance. but she can’t find any, and she smiles, walking towards him, wrapping her arms around him. “thank you, iwaizumi.”

he has an arm around her shoulders, his foot still resting on her father. “always,” he replies simply before she leaves him embrace, gesturing for omi to follow her. “i’m going to take care of his fist, now.”

iwaizumi only nods, turning his attention back to the man on the ground omi following his gaze as he passes by. iwaizumi will do more than a good enough job at keeping his word, he knows that, but he feels like he should have some part in taking care of the man whose plagued the girl in front of him for her entire life.

but she hasn’t asked him to take care of the man in front of her, and he knows its not his place. she knows she does not resent the man to the point that she wishes harm upon him, she simply wishes that he would leave her alone. and iwaizumi will make sure that wish is honored, and omi should be satisfied with the hit he landed on the man’s nose.

before her hand can even reach the knob of the door, it swings open and she’s pulled inside by the arms of a black-haired man who he recognizes to be akaashi. kita is standing beside him, a hand on [y/n]’s shoulder as they both check on her for any injuries or harm.

he hasn’t seen kita since his days in high school when he was the captain of inarizaki; atsumu told him he had moved out to the countryside but he must have come back after some time. he feels like a weight is lifted off his chest at the sight of her in the arms of his roomates, and he knows that she is cared for. that she has found her people, just like he told her earlier that night, and he hopes that she’s starting to accept his words as the truth.

he’s happy just watching her from afar, but she breaks apart from akaashi’s hug to gesture him in, and kita shuts the door behind him. “omi, this way,” she says with a smile on her face, beckoning him with a hand.

it’s the first time she’s called him by that old name since high school, and he thinks he’s falling even harder for her if that’s possible. she makes him sit on a stool in the kitchen while she searches her cabinets and a nearby closet for medical supplies. she’s begun to apply an ointment to his hand when he opens his mouth, “i can’t believe you think your roomates would ever leave you. look at how they all came to make sure you were okay. mine are one fight away from starting to vote people to kick out of the apartment nearly every week.”

she laughs at his comment, unwrapping a roll of bandages, “i’m sure no one would ever vote for you if that happened, but i guess you’re right, they’re pretty good, aren’t they?”

he nods, watching her face while she’s focused on his hand, “are you doing okay?”

she hums back in response, “yeah. the thing about my mom leaving me behind too kind of stung, but i don’t think life would’ve been any better with her, so it shouldn’t really hurt that bad. i’ll be okay. what you said at the diner really helped, you know. i feel like I can trust myself to say what i'm thinking rather than being scared i'm wrong or selfish. i can trust that it's not egotistical to believe my roomates don’t actually hate me. and that you don’t hate me. so i feel like i’ve finally escaped the weight of my dad’s words always crushing me and playing down anything i do.”

he reaches a hand up with his uninjured hand to wipe away tears from her face she didn't even realize were falling. and then he keeps his hand there, caressing the side of her face. “i don’t hate you, i never have. this entire time…how i feel about you is quite the opposite,” the words are slightly too intimate for him and as soon as they escape his mouth, it becomes hard to swallow and his face feels a little hot, but he doesn’t remove the hand from her cheek. he opts to say something more neutral next, “you did well, talking back down to him. i think you could’ve taken him down yourself.”

she chuckles at that, tying a knot to finish his bandage, “that’s what you think, but i’m sure i’d break my thumb or something. and if i have a hot man to defend me? i’m not lifting a finger.”

“you think i’m hot?” he says with a smile.

her cheeks grow warm under his hand, but she can’t look or move away from him, “i’m pretty sure thousands of people think so. it’s like a fact; newspapers can make money off of just having your face on the front page even if they barely mention you or don’t focus on sports at all.”

“well none of that matters,” he’s smiling softly now, and she’s still looking into his dark-colored eyes, hands holding his wrapped hand, “it just matters what you think.”

“what i think?” she repeats. and maybe it’s the adrenaline from the encounter they just had, or his boldness rubbing off on her in this current moment, but her next words come out clear and confident, “i think i love you, and i have for years. even when you left, i never stopped loving you.”

“i’m gonna make up for those years, you know,” he whispers back, pulling her by the sides to stand between his legs, bringing her closer. “i know i love you. i’d be a fool not to. and i loved you back then in high school too, even if i didn’t know it. i swear, losing you made me realize how much i took you for granted and everything became clear. letting you disappear was the worst mistake i ever made. i’ll make up for that lost time. make it up to you to the the point that you’re sick of me and you forget we were ever even separated for a time in our lives.”

“oh? and how are you gonna do that?” there’s a breathless feeling growing inside of her chest, where her heart beating fast with his confession and the way she's allowing him to pull her face close to this.

“starting with this,” his breath is hot against her lips before he closes the gap between them, and she’s kissing him back. she doesn't mourn or wish for the past, or for anything to change. he's come back and that's all that matters. she's happy with the word again. she likes it better than a phrase like "we fell in love at first sight." instead, she can say, "we met again. we fell in love again.

"we tried again."

it sounds like a story that reminds people endings aren't set in stone. she likes it.

.

.

.

“by the way, have you been playing songs for me in your lounge room when i’m waiting for you?”

“oh, you noticed?”

.

.

.

"the more you love your friends the more their features start to blur until all you remember is a pair of warm, welcoming eyes and laughter that feels like home."

prev. | m.list

extras <3

this is the end! thank you for reading try again <3

that last little quote is something i should've included like two chapters ago but it got lost in my gallery so here it is now <3

y/n's a good therapist i swear!!! she takes like one second to hit a play on a spotify playlist she's not playing games on her computer for entire sessions 😭

this is all i have tbh! i hope you enjoyed a little bit of this story <3 thank you so so much for being along on this ride w me!!

taglist: @eggyrocks @wyrcan @guitarstringed-scars @strawberryuri @violetesensou @kakeru-eem @glmge @heytheredemonsss @mollyrolls @bemebiu @daszy @snail-squasher @0moonii @thiisisntlovely @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @iiwaijime @iatethemochi @yuminako @savemebrazilhinata @kismyscars @bokutoko @nobodybutnnoorr @wolffmaiden @daisy-room @softpia @lees-chaotic-brain @v3nusplanetofluv @crispchocolates @phoenix-eclipses @hhoneyhan @encrypta @rockleeisbaeeee @cr4yolaas @zombriesworld @localgaytrainwreck @moucheslove @hibernatinghamster @notverymarley @certaindreampost @akaakeis @ciderscape @lucien-luna @strawbrinkofdeath @wave2mia @samuel1004 @01trickster10 @dazqa @cosmiicdust @chemiru

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part seven —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. reader menstruates. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: some chill stuff before more angst ya know

The next morning, it is your turn to slip a treat into Blue’s hand.

You can tell by her expression that the Twix bar is like gold to her. Her teeth sink in. She stifles a moan. She hisses a swear you haven’t heard yet— Fucking noodles.

It reminds you of the time Paul found a Cadbury egg for Joseph. You smile as you watch, the kind where your teeth manage to poke through and your cheeks have to do some stretching. Ghost is chopping wood somewhere on the other side of camp, but still, you decided to close the shed’s door. 

Last night, you were too worn to stay in the cabin for long. You left just after Ghost shucked on some large helmet with two strange eyepieces attached to it. To see in the dark, Blue explained in a whisper. Of course he would have that. When you asked him where he was going, he’d mumbled under his breath, Gonna make sure you didn’t have any bloody followers. You hadn’t even thought of that. He must not have thought of it until you actually showed up, either. He expected you not to make it.

You don’t know how long he was out there, but by the fact that you’d woken up to his axe chopping wood instead of heads, you figured the territory was clear.

“Better than Nutella?” you ask Blue.

Grey light streaks through the shed and over her face. The smell of potential rain looms in the air.

“That’s a tough question,” she says, licking the residue from her lips. She’s eaten half. She folds the wrapper over to cover the rest and hands it to you. Sweets like these are rare. You told her you’d keep it in your bag until she wanted the rest.

“I think it’s a strong tie,” she decides and then groans, moving her chin to the dip of her folded knees. “I wish chocolate could be hunted.”

“Me, too.”

“Are you sure you don’t want the rest?” She sounds guilty. “It is your Twix.”

“No, really. It’s a thank you.” Your knee gives a nudge to hers. “As if you haven’t given me food that is yours before.”

The guilt turns into a smile.

“You know,” she then says, eyes flicking to your pillowcase bag of looted goods. “When I was looking at your clothes last night, I got an idea of how you could fix them. Can I—” she tilts her head, “Can I show you something?”

She leaves Grim with you as she departs to collect whatever it is she has to share. It turns out to be a magazine of all things. She clutches it to her chest, rolling her lips together before turning it around to show you. The bright ink is faded a little. The corners bent and worn. The date of the issue reads March 2018. There is a woman on the front - some model you can’t remember the name of - clad in a tight blue dress.

The sight is just as weird as the abandoned streets and homes. For a moment, you look down at the skin of your hands, abraded from your bowstring, and press your lips.

“Remember how I told you Ghost and I went to a military base once?” Looking back up, you nod. “Well, we were mainly there to get ammo but we also went through the barracks— that’s where they slept.”

She explains it as if you have no clue, which you don’t. Never in your life did you care about the military, except for that first day when you hoped they might come to find you in some big tanks or something. They didn't.

Blue giggles. “I found this in one of the men’s old dorms.”

When she sees your expression, she says, “It’s okay. I’m not stupid. Ghost told me his old teammates liked to look at pictures of pretty women sometimes when they got bored. Anyway, I’ve looked through it so many times. I like all the fancy clothes people used to wear.”

She begins to flip through the pages and points out a few things. Where before you sometimes zoned out, your mind distracted by survival, this time you listen fully. One page has an ad with lush grass in the background and she informs you that the shade of green is her favorite color.

“Not blue?”

“That is my name, not my favorite color." Her nose scrunches. "What is yours?”

Do you even have one? You think for a moment. What comes to mind are the flowers your mother used to grow at the house in Norbury.

“Violet,” you softly say. “Like the flowers.”

“Huh?”

“They are like… a bluish purple.”

“Oh! There are some flowers like that by the pond sometimes. Hopefully, they come back this year."

Another page she points to has people laying on a white beach with crystal-like water. Blue says she hopes to go there someday. Not to just any beach. That beach.

When she passes an ad with a young man’s face on it - someone about your own age - she pauses for a moment and looks up.

"Do you think he is cute?" she asks. A tender curiosity.

"Um," you can't remember the last time you saw a man's face besides Paul. Ghost is always covered. She holds the page up so you can see it better. A sharp jaw. Dark hair and a strong nose.

"Yeah, he is very cute. Do you think so?"

She nods and bites her lip. "Did you… have a husband before shit happened?"

"What?" You frown. "I'm not that old."

"A boyfriend, then?"

"I had," you search the memories. They feel unimportant. Buried. "I had a few people who I enjoyed spending time with in uni."

"Like sex?"

You almost choke. "What?"

"I am not stupid," she says again. "The rabbits. They do it all the time. Ghost told me that's how they have their babies, and that is how him and my mum had me."

Oh. This is the first time Blue has ever mentioned her mother and you don't know why, but it makes your stomach tight. But she doesn't add anything else about her, as if she'd just told you the sky is blue or Grim is her friend. Something so casual. Brushed aside. As if, she hadn't mentioned it at all.

You don't pry about it.

Not to a kid. Trauma, grief— you can only imagine what a young brain has decided to do with them. But for a moment, your brain tries to imagine what kind of woman it could have been, what kind of woman Ghost enjoyed spending his time with. The only thing you can picture is Blue's eyes. She clearly didn't get them from him.

Blue moves on from the picture of the man. The page she really meant to show you is of a woman wearing jeans with a belt around them. She points to it and explains you could try something like that for the jeans you found.

Right. Jeans. Along with the blouse you grabbed, you got an ugly pink sweater and some jeans that won’t fit you.

"That’s called a belt," you say. “I don’t have one.”

“I have an old shoelace,” Blue says. “How about that?”

“That could work.”

Blue tells you bluntly that you need to bathe first. You smell like those fucks, no offense. You take your new clothes and she finds you a rag. In the bathroom, you harshly scrub your skin to erase the smell of rot. You wash your hair which is slick with sweat.

On your wrist, you notice a light bruise growing where that Grey had grabbed you. Luckily, you were too tired last night for your brain to conjure up any nightmares, otherwise, you probably would've had one about it biting you. Even a bite to just your hand - to a finger - would be enough for the virus to enter the bloodstream. You don’t want to admit it, but with that revolver, Ghost saved your life again. 

After bathing, you slip on the blouse and a pair of too-big jeans. Blue gives you the shoelace. You feed it through the belt loops. It works well enough. The pantlegs fall past your ankles so you roll them. You tuck the large blouse so the excess fabric won’t get in the way while you hunt. The sweater… you don’t bother with it for now. It’s not warm enough. You will stick with Paul’s old coat when you go outside. 

You look in the mirror again.

You stroke your own cheek, looking yourself over. You smooth your hands over the clothes. Underneath, you feel the plush of your breasts. The muscles of your stomach. The curves of your ribs. You are almost back to your normal weight, but it is still evening out. Under your eyes, the skin remains grey. Floorboards and stress will do that to a person.

"Let me see," Blue says on the other side of the door before you open it. You can still hear Ghost chopping wood outside.

“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.” She touches the sleeves. “These are pretty long. They will get in the way when you shoot arrows, right?”

You nod. “Can you bring me the scissors?”

After you cut the sleeves down to your wrists, Blue picks up the scraps of fabric. “Hey, you could tie your braids with these. Like ribbons.”

"I could," you shrug and give a smile. "But I think they would look nicer on you."

The shyness returns as she nods. Gently, you guide her in front of the mirror and begin working your fingers through her hair, just as you do most evenings.

You notice her staring in the mirror with studious eyes as if she is trying to understand exactly what she sees. You wonder if she ever compares herself to those girls in the magazine. An eleven-year-old you certainly used to.

"You look very pretty, Blue."

"It doesn't matter if I do," she shrugs. "It's not like anyone will ever actually get to see me."

"Well," you swallow, "I get to see you right now, and I think you are pretty."

"Thanks.” She accepts the compliment with a puckered expression, before it softens and she adds, "I think you are, too, Twix.”

Twix?

But before you can question it, you hear the front door shut and realize that the sound of chopping wood has been gone for at least a minute. It is clearly Ghost entering the cabin.

You drop your hands before you can finish the braids, stepping back. 

He calls out her name.

Recalling the rifle he pointed at you yesterday, you whisper to Blue, "Maybe you should go out before he—“

But of course, his heavy boots approach. The dark shadow of him materializes in the bathroom's doorway, consuming the space with his head dipped down to fit.

You turn around to face her father at the same time Blue does. His brows are drawn low and in one hand he carries the axe. You notice a sheen of sweat at the bridge of his nose where his mask begins.

The thing is, you try to avoid being spotted alone with Blue like this. She talks to you in your shed. You interact when he is busy with things.

Ghost reaches for Blue’s hand. He gently tugs her to him. He cups the back of her head and bends down to meet her level, though he is still much taller.

"Remember what we talked 'bout?”

What did they talk about?

"I remember," she mumbles. She tugs her arm away. "I was just helping her with her new clothes.” Smoothly, she changes the topic. “What do you think? The shoelace was my idea."

Blue. You almost groan, feeling his dark eyes slowly shift over to you. You think you would rather him press the axe to your throat than share his opinion about your clothes— they aren’t exactly like what the models in Blue’s magazine wore. His stare rarely does anything other than burn holes through your skin, so it is no surprise when you feel the heat through your blouse, up your neck, and all the way to your cheeks.

You look down at your feet.

Then, a bitter memory comes to mind.

You look like you're one 'em already.

That is what Ghost said once.

For a brief moment, you wonder if he still thinks it.

He doesn’t give an answer. All he does is clear his throat. Your strange curiosity fades as he stands and looks down at his daughter. 

"C'mon, kid. Start the fire with me."

"No, not yet. She needs to finish my hair, Ghost."

He allows it, but remains in the doorway, watching as you finish her braids, using the fabric as floral bows to tie them off. 

It looks nice.

It rains just like you thought it would.

Not too heavy, but enough to cut your hunt short for the day, earning you only one squirrel.

When you return to camp, you find Blue crouched over the wood planter as she covers the sodden soil with a layer of mulch. Apparently, Ghost had her plant some cabbage seeds before the rain. The mulch is to stop the seeds from washing away, she explains.

Spring will soon arrive. With it, some crops to add to their meals. Good for them. Maybe you can convince Ghost to lend you a seed or two to plant for yourself. 

After dinner, you sit by the fireplace with your boots off in order to warm your toes. The soft drum of rain against the cabin's walls lulls you into a trance as you listen to Ghost quietly read to Blue. Sometimes he points to words for her to try.

Tonight it is a book you recognize.

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

Your father read it to you once. A younger version of yourself told him it was too boring. But now you find yourself quite liking the story about a magic wardrobe where kids can escape to another world.

Blue falls asleep on the couch. Ghost carries her to bed like usual. It is your time to leave. The rain has died down some but you already know the water has probably leaked into your shed. Lovely. 

But again you are stopped by a hand around your arm. 

You turn to see Ghost. He clutches the map in the other hand.

“Um. What is it?”

You slip your arm away, his grip allowing it. Is he mad about you hanging out with Blue? Did he discover your secret exchanges? Is he going to finally kick you out since you didn't die like he probably hoped?

“Sit with me.”

You raise your eyebrows. He motions for you to follow him to the table so you sit down, hands in your lap, and pick at the skin of your knuckles. He spreads the map open. He also has a pencil in his hand. Between gloved fingers, he fiddles with it before sliding it over to you.

To your surprise, he demands, “Show me where you went.”

Although confused, you abide, making a small mark over the village. Ribchester. 

His eyes narrow. “Not jus’ that. Show me which way you went.”

“This way,” you say, annoyed by his tone. Faintly, you draw a line through the forest all the way to the highway. “Then I followed the road.”

He takes the pencil from you and slides the map back in front of him, sweeping his eyes over the marks you’ve made. Under the black fabric, you detect the contour of his lips pressed into a straight line.

“How many were there?”

“Not many, really,” you admit. “Do you… Are you wanting to go there?” 

You furrow your brows as you recall what Blue said. They don't make trips often. It is not like Ghost has much need to. 

“No.” Not looking at you, he draws a mark some kilometers south of the one you made. “I want to go here.”

“Why?”

“I need ammo.” 

His voice is clinical and gruff. You definitely prefer it over threatening. As he continues, it officially becomes the most words he has ever spoken to you. 

“Went to a base over here two years ago.” He points a gloved digit to a spot on the east side of the forest. That must be the trip that Blue was talking about. “Wasn’t much left. Took what I could.”

“You’re all out of ammo, then?” 

He gives you a flat look. “No. But I’m runnin’ low. I don’t want to wait until I am all out to go. Need some ammo to make it there, don’t I?”

“Why haven’t you gone sooner?” you pry slowly. “Why do you want to go now?”

“Got a bit more to lose than you do.” 

It is a harsh truth, inviting a sharp breath through your lungs. What he means is he has someone he loves, unlike you. Someone he can’t just leave behind on her own.

You realize that Ghost probably avoids leaving this haven he has set up for that very reason, and maybe it is also why he is particularly conservative about their supplies. Whenever they end up running low, he has to drag her along with him to get more. The threats out there can be hard to predict. You’d been lucky. 

Ghost continues.

“But if you could make it through here,” he gestures back to the marks you made. The route can act as a way to the military base, but he would still have to go further, maybe 10 kilometers past the village. “Then I can make it that way with her.”

You nod slowly as you begin to wonder why he is telling you this. But then, it sinks in, a pit settling in your stomach. If they leave, where are you supposed to go? 

Ghost must read the expression that takes over your face. You don't wear a mask.

“You’re comin’ with us.”

“What?” You stand up, shaking your head as you hiss through your teeth. “No. I don’t want to. I just fucking got back.”

“You’re not staying here on your own,” he growls quietly. “I’m not askin’ whether you want to go or not.”

You catch his eyes. Black glass reflects the dim glow of the fire.

Of course.

He doesn’t trust you enough to stay here.

You have no choice.

[atlasofthestaars]

[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .016

first part | previous part | next part

NOTE:

Not much to say here but, I hope you guys enjoy this one! Still trying to get back in the groove of updating quicker, but with college life comes more responsibilities I'm afraid haha. I think in this chapter there will be something some of you guys have been waiting for a while now :)!

FROM THE EYES OF SOMEONE WHO DOES SOMETHING A LITTLE DIFFERENT

“You don’t have to do this with me.”

“I don’t mind.” You replied, not even bothering to look up from the recount of events you were writing. You felt Sonya Blade’s gaze bore into you. From how intense it felt, you understood why she was so respected in her field. If she had magic powers, you would have guessed she would have had magic beams that shoot from her eyes. 

Even without looking at her, you could tell she had a concerned look on her face. One that you’ve experienced plenty of times lately, not just from her either. While touched, you were feeling horrible lately about it all. “I’d have to do this eventually, I expect, plus I would feel awful leaving you to do this alone.”

It was the day after the showdown with Shao Khan. Well, to say the day after was rather misleading. It was just barely midnight, the new day having just barely rolled in. And here you were, sitting in a Special Forces office with your friend, Sonya Blade, writing up a report of events that had gone down the day of the whole affair.

You hadn’t eaten, slept, or even bathed. You still wore the tattered clothes, all scratched and messy from being tossed around. Dried blood still stuck to you like glue. But that was by choice. You didn’t want to spend a moment too long by yourself to let your thoughts creep in about what happened in the last twenty four hours. You suppressed a shiver at the idea.

If you were going to be forced to think about it, you’d rather do it doing something productive, and not by yourself.

You didn’t want to even think about what would happen if you let whatever happened truly soak in.

“You sure you don’t want to go back with Raiden?” Sonya inquired, her words carrying a sense of caution. It was odd to hear from the usually bold and blunt woman, but it was charming to hear her be empathetic towards you. You set down your pen, setting it aside. You had a feeling this would be a talking break.

“No, I can contact Lord Raiden myself whenever we’re done here.” You said, lifting your gaze to meet her eyes. The concerned look you had imagined to be on her face felt like an understatement now. The usually guarded, professional woman felt like an open book. Or maybe, you’ve gotten better at reading her after the couple of years you’ve gotten to know her for.

You weren’t ready to face Raiden yet. You weren’t sure why, but the thought of facing the thunder god made your stomach churn. You felt guilt at just the thought of having to look at him. So many people had died, many people you might have been able to save if you had just stayed behind. 

“You should really rest.” The blonde urged, her eyes scanning you. You held back a small pitiful laugh. The woman in front of you was a workaholic, it was strange to hear her tell you that. And yet, from the way she looked at you, you could tell you looked like an utter wreck. Your fingers brushed your cheek, and you wondered silently just whose blood was on your fingertips.

“I wish I could, Lieutenant.” You replied. You just noticed how exhausted your voice sounded. It was like you had dragged yourself out of the darkest pits of the netherrealm, which probably wasn’t too far off. Your fingers drummed on the wood of the desk, trying to fill the silence of the room. Your eyes looked around before you settled them back onto Sonya. “Can I just be honest for a moment?”

“Anytime.” She reassured you. You saw her straighten out her back, making her perfect posture just that more pristine. Your eyes seemed to drill into your own, as if she was trying to reach into your soul. You couldn’t imagine how intimidating she’d look if she were to be interrogating someone. 

“I don’t think I can rest until I know that our friends are avenged.” You admitted. Even with your admission, the weight on your shoulders didn’t lighten. If anything, it felt like it got a bit heavier, as if the weight of your ambitions had finally settled in. Sonya nodded, though the concerned look on her face did not change. “I don’t know how, but I know there’s some way to honor their deaths.”

“That sounds honorable, and I completely understand.” Sonya began, her words slow and deliberate. You knew from the way she spoke, she completely understood. She never talked about it too much, but she had alluded before to you that she had been tracking down some asshole because her partner had died. You looked at her, and you saw her hesitate. “You shouldn’t let your life be dictated by something like that though.”

Even as she said it, you knew she felt awful for being a hypocrite. 

“I know you speak from a place of kindness and experience, Sonya.” You said. You leaned forward, resting your weight on your forearms. “But I don’t know if I can heed your words.” A sigh left your lips, and you felt your shoulders slump forward. Exhaustion was clawing at you, threatening to drag you down. “I have to at least avenge Kung Lao and Liu Kang. I know Shao Khan’s dead, but I would feel so useless if I couldn’t avenge both of their deaths.”

“You think Shao Khan killed Liu Kang?” Sonya inquired. You saw her eyes widen slightly, and she shifted a bit in her own seat. You lifted an eyebrow, uncertain why she would ask that sort of thing. You nodded solemnly. 

“Of course he did, who else would? I’m certain you saw it too. You and Johnny both arrived on the rooftop before me.” You reminded her. “When I got there, he was dead already” You felt yourself tremble, the guilt within yourself threatening to spew out of you. “By the gods, if I had been a little faster, maybe, just maybe I would have been able to save him.”

You knew you weren’t just talking about Liu Kang.

“Hey.” The lieutenant spoke up, snapping you out of it before you could possibly spiral. Her eyes scanned you again, a torn expression on her face. She then stared deeply into your eyes. Her mouth opened, then she hesitated. Whatever she was about to say, you could never guess as she then proceeded to cringe before she got the words out. “Did…did you talk to Raiden about any of this?”

“No.” You admitted. And you weren’t planning to. You knew the god would disapprove of your plan, and you weren’t letting him change your mind. While you knew Liu Kang held some resentment towards the thunder god before he died, you didn’t. But you did feel like, perhaps, some decisions that you could make would be best without his influence. “I’m not going to tell him either.”

“I see.” Sonya said, her tone now awkward. There was a tension in the room, one that you couldn’t quite identify the reason behind. You looked back down at the report, trying to distract yourself amidst the silence that lingered in the air. “Hey, how about we just finish these reports up then head to bed, how does that sound?”

“I…” You began. The thought of going to bed, all alone with the memories of what had just happened, nearly sent a shiver down your back. You couldn’t suppress the goosebumps that covered your skin. But still, you couldn’t deny the fact that sleep did sound pleasing. You weren’t certain if you could stay awake for much longer. “I think that sounds fine.”

“Good, let’s wrap it up, I think we both need the rest.” Sonya nodded. She picked up her pen with a bit of renewed vigor. Then she paused and looked at you. “And hey,” She said your name, “if you ever need to talk about all this with someone, I’m here for you, okay?”

For what felt like the first time in forever, you smiled.

“Okay.”

Waking up this time was not dramatic like before, but it was not quite calm either.

Your eyes slowly opened, as if you were trapped within honey. You lifted a hand over your chest, your fingertips touching where your heart lay. It ached dully, as if remembering the memory along with you and was reminded of the pain of losing those you once cared for. All that left your lips for a moment was a forlorn sigh.

Your mind lingered on the blonde that had been so prominent in your last memory. Sonya Blade. This was the first time she had been prominent in your visions. She was not a foreign person to you, you remembered her as the ex wife…or wife, you weren’t quite sure. Not to mention, she had appeared at the tournament as well as the rooftop confrontation.

You rolled over to the side of the bed, staring at the ground. She was one of the few you had remembered but seemed not to be present in this world you now lived in. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to recall other people you haven’t seen yet, assuming they even existed. 

Nightwolf, Jackson Briggs, Fujin…several other names drifted in and out of your head.

Why have you not met them? This question buried itself in the back of your mind. It was always a question you’ve asked yourself. Some of the names you’ve had these questions about you’ve met, but it was odd these people who seemed to become more and more dominant in your memories seemed to be missing.

Was there a reason for that? Did these people even exist at all? Or were they replaced or missing, just like…

You felt your chest ache again without even finishing your thought. You pressed your hand to it, as if it would help soothe the pain. All it did though was allow you to feel the slow rhythmic thuds of your heart. You were still alive and kicking, that was for certain.

“No use lingering on it.” You muttered to yourself. It didn’t sound confident. Instead, it sounded almost defeated. Still, you took in stride and forced yourself out of bed. You didn’t have the time to think about all that and go through the heart ache. You took pause for a moment, your body recognizing the irony of the situation before your brain did.

You sounded just like your past self.

You let out a small chuckle, shaking your head. Some things never change, do they? You fought back the sinking feeling in your stomach and continued on with your morning routine. Like you said, it was best not to think about it, even despite what your gut told you.

By the time you walked outside your door, you heard the familiar sound of heels. You looked up to see the confident stride of Kitana. Her posture was even more pristine than usual.  Yet there was something off. You glanced at her face, and for a moment you saw an undertone of guilt on her face even with her head held high. The moment her eyes locked with yours, that guilt was hidden away as if it were not there in the first place.

“Good morning.” The princess greeted, the professional looking smile placed on her lips. You felt your eyebrows furrow, and for a moment you considered asking what was wrong. Then, in the next you reconsidered. Not only were you barely acquaintances, she was royalty. Any words close to asking her of her troubles died on your tongue. 

“Good morning.” You returned her greeting, wiping away your concern. Her eyes scanned your face, and for a moment, you wondered if she was going to question the look on your face. But instead she simply nodded and walked towards you, waiting patiently for you to join her side. “Today we are watching the match in the Hanging Gardens, correct?” 

“Indeed.” She confirmed, glancing at you. 

“Oh, your sister, Princess Mileena is fighting today.” You said aloud, eyes widening. A small smile spread on your face, wondering how it would be like to see the princess in action. You glanced over, and caught the sight of Kitana’s eyes widened a bit. Her smile turned a bit strained, much to your confusion. She hesitantly nodded.

“Yes she is.” She told you. Yet there was a tone to her voice that made your eyebrows raise. It was barely perceptible, the way her voice hesitated. But still, from your memories, you caught onto the subtleties within her voice. Maybe you were closer to her in your past life than you thought. Either way, it was not the same here so you could not ask. But there was definitely something off with how short her responses were.

“I’ll enjoy watching the fight, I cannot say I’ve ever seen royalty fight before. In Earthrealm, there isn’t much royalty left there, and if there is, not many, if at all, fight like Outworlders do.” You informed the princess. She nodded, seeming vaguely aware of that fact already. “Do you fight and spar often with others?”

“We spar and train often.” Kitana replied, her shoulders rolling back slight to make her perfect posture impossibly more pristine. “As for actually fighting, we only do so when necessary.” You supposed that made sense, after all, why would one need to fight unless necessary? Then again, she could always be lying to save face. After all, why would a princess disclose her empire in a state of distress?

Then again, Outworld wasn’t always subtle about its fighting habits before, maybe it was the same here. You remembered the state that the Outworld you once knew was in. It was…odd to think this world held the same name as the more bloodier version of it. Then again, from what you recalled, this world seemed more similar to Edenia.

What did happen to Edenia anyways in this world? You weren’t certain if that was taboo to ask. After all, in the past world, it had been conquered and merged. Would asking it be rude? You glanced over to the princess, noting her attitude. She seemed to be in her head about something, even if she was doing well at attempting to conceal it. You supposed it would be for the best to not ask right now.

Maybe you could ask Liu Kang about it.

“Do you and your sister spar often?” You asked, keeping up with your questions to show interest and civility. Kitana pursed her lips, pondering over your question for a bit. After a moment, she nodded. 

“We do, occasionally.” The princess replied. There was another pause, considering her words carefully once more. You didn’t try and question it much. Perhaps she was simply erring on the side of caution. You were a friend of Raiden’s. Maybe she thought you were trying to get more information on her sister to give Raiden some last minute tips. “We tend to spar more with the Umgadi more than anything.”

”I was not aware that they sparred with you on top of protecting the royal palace.” You said, glancing over to an Umgadi guard that was further down the hall. Upon reflection, the Umgadi reminded you a bit of the Lin Kuei, but only in the vaguest sense. Still, it was nice to make a mental connection to something from home.

”The Umgadi are responsible for plenty of things.” Kitana replied. One of her hands gestured to the guard down the hall you had been previously looking at. “Guarding the palace, sparring with us, making sure everything runs smoothly and properly. Being an umgadi is a lot of pressure but it is an honorable job.”

Ah, now it definitely reminded you of the Lin Kuei.

”I respect them for that.” You nodded, sending the guard you passed by a grateful smile. She returned that small smile for a few moments before returning to a more stoic look. “Your Umgadi reminds me of a clan back in Earthrealm.” You told her. “I will say though, that clan is not composed entirely of women.”

”A shame.” The princess said, and for a moment, you could detect genuine pity in her tone. Her mouth opened, probably to ask a question, but then the both of you arrived outside in the hanging gardens. You spied a little farther off was all three of the thrones of the royal family. You rose your eyebrows, wondering if the princess would sit down before the fight, but you chose to not question it. It was probably put there out of respect. “It seems we are here.” Kitana said, her shoulders relaxing just a touch. Her eyes met yours before nodding. “Enjoy the match.”

And with that, she walked off,

“Glad to see you here early as usual.” You commented, walking up to Raiden, Kung Lao, and Liu Kang. You watched as the champion let out a embarassed chuckle, his cheeks flushing for a moment. You smiled at him, trying to reassure him after your little joke. “No need to look so clammy, I was simply joking.” You told him. 

“I know.” Raiden said, avoiding eye contact with you for a few moments before he managed to wrangle his eyes to focus on you. Despite this, his face was still a little pink. On top of it all, a small sheepish smile was placed on his lips. You stared at it, admiring it for a moment. It was a nice sight. “I can hardly believe I’m going to fight a princess.”

”You mean you’re going to win against a princess.” Kung Lao spoke up, walking over to put himself right by your side. He flashed you a grin, crossing his arms as usual. He tilted his head to his friend. The confidence Kung Lao displayed was akin to someone who was going to partake in the fight rather than watch it. You watched as Raiden’s grin grew, seeming to absorb the positive feedback from both of you. 

“Indeed, you are ready for this match.” Liu Kang reassured Raiden. The champion nodded. “Princess Mileena is very skilled, but we have provided you with the information necessary for the tide to be in your favor.” You nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly with the god’s words. You couldn’t have put it any better yourself. 

“You’ve taken down five others before today, Raiden.” You told him, displaying your hand out to show him with your fingers the amount. “All of them were skilled in their own right. Do not treat this match any differently simply because you are to spar with royalty. Just focus on yourself and your own techniques and you’ll be fine.”

”I will do my best.” Raiden told you all, looking around. You felt better seeing a more confident man in front of you. Not only for the sake of the world, but it was nice to just see the man understand that he was indeed strong in his own right. It was a far cry from the beginnings of your lessons. It was heartwarming really.

Time passed, and you all discussed tactics and techniques to keep Raiden focused on the match ahead. You were only interrupted when Johnny Cage strode in and let out a low whistle and commented how this would be the perfect place to shoot an action scene, or even a romantic walk at night. 

”All I’m saying is that people would kill for this type of place to shoot at. It’s the perfect set.” The actor said. He held his hands out, creating a box to frame the area. “Just look at that bench, perfect place to hold an important scene. That’d be the money shot right there.” You held in a chuckle, seeing the very bench you and the princess had been sitting on for a few nights now. 

“Good luck, I doubt you’d be able to ever let a film crew here.” Kenshi commented, his arms crossing. He shook his head, letting out a dismissive sigh at the mere idea of Johnny even attempting to negotiate with the Empress to let them film here. You had to agree, the idea was rather farfetched.

”Oh they will, once I turn on the Cage charm.” Johnny boasted, grinning wickedly as he continued to survey the area with a careful gaze as if he were planning out the scenes he would shoot here. Which he probably was, given how he was muttering under his breath. You supposed you could respect his ambition to keep on the consistent grind.

Then, a little after that, the Empress arrived.

It was odd seeing her flanks empty of the sisters. But even without her daughters, the confidence and nobility she exuded caught your attention. She strode through the crowd before sitting upon her throne. You watched carefully, your eyebrows knitting as you watched her walk in alone. Where was Kitana? You had see her earlier, so he absence didn’t quite make sense to you.

You tried to brush those thoughts away as Sindel settled down comfortably for a moment, scanning the area before landing her eyes on Raiden. You stood at attention by Liu Kang’s side, ushering the others to stand with the others.

“You continue to surprise, Raiden.” Sindel complimented, her posture as perfect as Kitana’s was earlier. “Among others, you have defeated Kotal, Motaro, and Sheeva. Only two fights remain.” There was the smallest of pauses before she continued. “Are you ready, Earthrealmer?” There was a gleam of confidence within her eyes that seemed to have been revived.

”I am, Your Majesty.” Raiden said, his confidence from before still not faltering despite the renewed vigor. 

“Then next you will face my daughter…” You heard the familiar clacking of heels. Your eyebrows furrowed as you turned to look at the source of the noise. “Kitana.” Bewildered beyond measure, you watched as the princess you weren’t expecting walked in. Two folded up fans were gripped in her fists as a mask adorned her face.

Had you not been so perplexed, you would have caught on earlier how similar her walking in with such ferocity looked. But alas, you were too caught up in your thoughts. Why was Kitana going to fight? Was this a trick from Outworld to try and trip up Raiden? Thoughts like this pervaded your mind as the little clues you had brushed aside fell into place.

Mileena’s discomfort at the mention of a match, not to mention her whole general attitude last night along with Kitana’s strange dance around the mention of her sister fighting Raiden seemed to stick out like a sore thumb in your memories. You almost felt foolish for not seeing it earlier.

Had Sindel intended to intentionally swap out Kitana for Mileena to gain the upper hand? That would certainly explain why the elder sister was upset last night, but still, the mere idea of that felt…scandalous. You fixtated your eyes on the Empress as Liu Kang, who was a little more lost than you were, stepped up in between the would be fighters.

”Your Majesty, this is unprecedented.” Liu Kang spoke, his words slow. It was as if he were trying to find the right words to voice his confusion without trying to display distaste at the current events. “Raiden’s next opponent should be your heir.” He gestured to the throne beside Sindel where Mileena usually sat.

”Mileena is unavailable.” The Empress replied smoothly. She seemed unphased by the events and by Liu Kang’s reaction. You supposed that came with the experience of leading an empire for so many years. “She’s away on pressing imperial business.” 

You felt your gut stir, as if to tell you that the Empress was lying. And honestly, you weren’t sure whether to believe your gut or not. You swallowed, trying to reason out the situation with what you knew. Maybe that was why the two had been acting so suspiciously? After all, it must be frustrating to be sent away so quickly before an important fight. And if it really was so urgent, it made sense that the heir would take care of it.

Still, your gut twisted and turned.

”But I have not prepared him to battle Kitana.” Liu Kang pushed back, pointing out the unfairness in the situation. You glanced at the masked princess who was holding Raiden’s gaze. From what you remembered, the two had very different fighting styles in your past life, which probably was true for this world. It made sense for Liu Kang to worry over it.

”He’s already demonstrated great skill.” Sindel replied, her voice and posture displaying jus how nonchalant she was over the whole thing. And yet, there was a quality to the way she spoke that caught your attention. It was like a challenge in her voice, like her scoffing and asking if Raiden was not as skilled as has shown if he couldn’t defeat a surprise. It was almost like an insult hidden behind a compliment. “Can he not improvise?”

”Do not worry, I can do this.” You heard the champion reassure the god who had been shaking his head. You were caught off guard, and soon found yourself smiling. The god nodded, accepting the courage Raiden displayed. It was good that even when Liu Kang showed doubt, Raiden was able to steel himself and push ahead.

”I will be no easier to fight than my sister, Earthrealmer.” Kitana boasted, walking back an appropriate distance. You watched as the fire god approached and stood by your side. You shot him a sympathetic glance. Traces of confusion still displayed on his face. You placed a hand on Liu Kang’s bicep and leaned over to whisper to him. 

“He’ll be fine.” You told him, squeezing his bicep for a moment. Then, a moment later, you found yourself pinching the skin there. He may not be Kung Lao you once knew and understand the gesture, but it was something small you wanted to do. You watched as Liu Kang’s expression relaxed and he nodded, now trying to focus on the match. 

“I suffer under no delusion, Your Highness.” Raiden replied, his voice devoid of any cockiness like the princess displayed. Instead, it was serious, taking her seriously just as he did for all of his other opponents. You admired the way he was able to lock in, mind focused entirely on the goal.

”I will win this fight.” Kitana said, making a promise. “For her, my Empress, and all of Outworld.” She took a step forward, before taking one step back into a fighting stance. There was a “sching!” as the blades of her fans brushed against each other, revealing the awe inspiring war fans she wielded. 

Then, the match begun. 

Kitana’s movements were elegant, it was like she was dancing more than she was dueling. It was almost like watching a hawk. Graceful, swift, but had deadly precision. The control she had over the fans she wielded along with the bits of magic she must surely have was beautiful to witness. Almost effortlessly, you watched as she would sometimes gain the upper hand and juggle your champion in the air, hit after hit with her fans and kicks.

For a moment, you were worried. Raiden seemed unable to adapt, being bewildered by the strange manner Kitana would throw out her fans, and not to mention the way she would use the air to her advantage much more than any of the others he had fought against. It was as if she thrived up there.

Still, even as he was battered and bruised, the man pushed through. He matched her movements, aiming to move as quickly as she was. He also threw in some of his own projectiles into the mix, deterring her from simply zoning him out from an advantageous position. Had you been an outsider watching this, you would have never guessed that Raiden was merely improvising these techniques against the surprise contender. It was honestly quite impressive. 

After seeing the man turn the tide, you were not surprised to see him finally topple the princess. This feat had been much more earned, as both of them seemed exhausted after the fight. Between moments of heaving breaths, Raiden looked down at the princess before nodding and smiling respectfully to her.

“You fight well, princess.” He commended, a weary, but kind smile upon his lips. Pushing herself off the ground, Kitana looked up at her opponent. For a moment, there was a frustrated look as she took some deep breaths of her own. Despite her mask, she was still very expressive. You looked at the mask adorning her face, remembering how she used to wear it long ago,

“As do you, Earthrealmer.” Kitana replied, sharing the same respect Raiden had shown her. Her gaze scanned the man, assessing him one last time. “Surprisingly so.” She added on, a hint of reluctance and shock in her tone. It was as if despite being beat, she still could not understand how the Earthrealm champion had bested her.

“Excellent match.” Sindel praised, though there was a hint of strain within her voice. Both of the competitors turned their attention to the empress. You gaze focused in on her as well. Her displeasure at the outcome of the match as well hidden, but you could still see it. It was in the way her knuckles grew bone white despite supposedly being folded neatly within her lap. Her jaw was set as she smiled at the two. 

While you weren’t certain still whether Sindel had intentionally swapped the princesses, you could see that she was not all too happy that Raiden had managed to improvise his way through the match. Your eyes darted back to the electric wielder. Had Mileena still been here to fight him, would he have fared as well as he did against Kitana?

“Tomorrow, young champion, you will face your final opponent.” She declared, looking up at the sky for a moment. “Then afterwards we shall hold a celebration. A festival, dedicated to whomever emerges victorious, whether it be Earthrealm or Outworld. We shall meet back out here for your final match.” The empress instructed, before swiftly walking off. You observed how the thrones were hauled back to the grand hall before a pinch on your bicep snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Finally today we get to hang out.” Kung Lao piped up, sending you a grin on the sly side. Your eyebrows rose. At first, you focused on the pinch. You caught yourself holding your breath, a wave of nostalgia and grief washing over you. You were perplexed on how he remembered the pinch, but then you remembered that he was probably mimicking the action you had done to him previously. “Oh don’t look so blue, it’s an honor hanging out with me.”

“When did we agree to hang out?” You asked, pushing away the thoughts of the old Kung Lao who your brain yearned for. Almost instantly, you regretted your words. His smile faltered, dropping. It was as if someone had kicked a puppy. Instantly, you put on a smile and placed a reassuring hand on his bicep, returning the pinch. “I was joking.” You quickly said. “I’d love to hang out with you.”

“Good.” Kung Lao replied, the glee returning to him. It was as if he hadn’t been affected by your question earlier at all. You weren’t sure if he had been acting or not, but you felt better seeing his smile. “I saw a lot of good food by the pier, I want to try them with you.” The former farmhand told you, beginning to lead the way to Sun Do. 

“As long as we get to go around looking for one last gift.” You piped up, following him to the way to the city. Kung Lao looked back, a small look of surprise on his face. 

“I thought you had been out yesterday with Kenshi to find the last gift?” Kung Lao asked. His eyes darted behind you, most likely gazing at where the others were before his eyes settled on you again. “By all means, I don’t mind. I know I have perfect taste.” He shot you a grin, making you chuckle and shake your head at his antics.

“I had been, and yes, I did find a gift. But I wanted to get something else too.” You informed the man with the razor hat. At this admission, his interest was piqued. He leaned over to you, his voice dropping to a whisper as if you were swapping a secret.

“Oh really now?” Kung Lao spoke, his voice dripping with excitement. A gleam was in his eye, and you spotted his dimples become more prominent as his smile grew. Your lips pursed as you observed them, you weren’t certain how to feel about even the little details like dimples being the same between the two worlds. “Well, if it’s a gift for me you can just tell me now, I don’t mind.”

“It’s not a gift for you, it’s a gift for Lord Liu Kang.” You told Kung Lao. You watched as his lips pursed into a pout. A disappointed look crossed his face, though this one was more playful than the last time. “Don’t worry, I already got your gift for you.” A look of surprise, as if he wasn’t actually expecting a gift, appeared on his face. You let out another laugh and picked up the pace, walking a bit faster as the man paused.

“Wait, really?” He asked, perking up as he made a light jog to catch up to you. You simply sent him a small smile, watching him think over your words. “What is it? When am I going to get it?” Kung Lao asked, his questions firing off like rapid fire. 

“I already ruined the surprise by telling you that I got you one.” You said, pointing at Kung Lao as you walked side by side down the road. “I think I have the right to keep the rest of it as a surprise, no?” The man hummed, head tilting upwards as he contemplated his words. Then he looked back at you with a mischievous look.

“I guess you do, but that won’t stop me from wildly guessing what you did get me.” Kung Lao pointed out. You nodded, letting out another laugh. You supposed that would be fair enough. It wasn’t as if you could stop his curiosity anyways. 

The rest of the walk was filled with light chatter. With Kung Lao, it always felt as if you could talk with him for hours on end. You tried not to linger on that fact that it felt like you were talking to an old friend. You had to stop that train of thought, after all, this man in front of you wasn’t…your Kung Lao. It was someone else, even if they were all too similar.

For a bit of the day, both you and Kung Lao roamed around the docks. The air was filled with the scent of street food. It made your mouth water as you took in a deep breath. Glancing over to your companion, you swore you even spotted the man drooling. You found yourselves hopping around the area, tasting and taking food as you pleased.

“This is amazing.” Kung Lao said, seeming to be lost in bliss as he indulged in the fried foods. You couldn’t help but agree. There was something special about this food, and it wasn’t just how cheap it was for the quality. As you let the taste melt onto your tongue, you couldn’t help but ponder over the seasonings within the dish. Did these type of seasonings exist back in Earthrealm? Or only here. “You think you could recreate this?”

“Maybe.” You said, still mulling over the unique taste it held. “They have different spices here, so it might be hard to recreate it one to one in terms of flavor.” You blinked in surprise as a bit of food was held in front of your face. Leaning back a bit, you shot a look of confusion towards Kung Lao as he brought the food closer to you.

“Try it!” He encouraged, a wide grin on his face. You looked between the man and the morsel of food, trying to work out what to do. Then, you leaned forward and ate the food from his fingers. You savored it, nodding as you closed your eyes and contemplated the flavors. A small hum left your lips. That was good. As you opened your eyes, confusingly enough, you were met with Kung Lao being…slightly flustered?

“Are you good?”

“Hm?” Kung Lao said, snapping out of his little daze. His cheeks were still dusted light with a bit of pink as he let out a laugh. “Yes! I’m fine.” He told you, though there was still that little tone to his voice that you couldn’t quite pin down. You rose your eyebrows, but shrugged. “Would you make me some of this food?”

“If I figure it out, sure.” You told him, finding it hard to say no to the hopeful look he sent you. You grinned at him, a slightly wicked look in your eye. “You know, you do still owe me for losing that bet.” You couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh at the pout he sent your way. “Did you think I would forget, Kung Lao?”

“Maybe.” He mumbled, looking away from you with a faux innocent look. You sent him a narrowed gaze, shaking your head. “I promise I’ll hold up to our agreement.” He said, putting a hand on his heart, an earnest grin on his face. You smiled and pinched his bicep. 

“Good, because otherwise if you don’t, I’ll make sure to talk to the monks about making your training regiment harder. And that’s on top of what I plan on making you do.” You informed him, a sly smirk on your lips. “But if you remind me, I think I’ll consider lessening your punishment.” 

The both of you toured the area for a bit longer until you passed a store selling fabrics. You took pause as you walked past it, at first dismissing it. Then, a familiar shade of red caught your eye. You wandered over, feeling compelled to inspect it. Picking it up gently, you marveled at the fabric. 

It was nothing special, to be honest. It was just a very vibrant red headband. And yet, as you held it in your hands, you felt emotional over it. You slowly rubbed the quality material between your fingers, a small smile on your lips. You felt Kung Lao’s presence beside you, and nearly jumped upon remembering that he was here. 

“You’re planning on giving Lord Liu Kang a headband?” Your companion inquired. He squinted at it, processing the piece of fabric you were holding. 

“I know it’s a simple gift, but it just…speaks to me.” You explained, returning your gaze back down to the headband. It was nearly uncanny how close it looked to the red headband that your friend would always wear. Ever since you remembered the accessory, you’ve missed seeing the man in it. You’ve never brought it up though, since you it was a little odd. “What do you think? Is it a silly gift?”

“No.” Kung Lao said, and you were a little surprised at the certainty in his voice. You looked up and over to him. On his face was a determined look, as if nothing could convince him that this was a bad idea. You were comforted by the look. “I think it’s the perfect gift actually, good find.”

You stared at Kung Lao for a few more moments. Your heart squeezed at the idea that this Kung Lao agreed with the headband fitting just so well for Liu Kang. For a moment, you were tempted to ask him why he thought so. Was it just the idea that Liu Kang would look good in red? Or was it…something else? And yet, despite your longing, you restrained yourself. You didn’t want to seem so…silly.

“Yeah, I think I will get this.” You agreed. You walked up to the naknadan who was manning the shop. You were delighted to see you had some money left over. Maybe you could keep it, as a reminder of your travels here. You took the headband, and folded it neatly, tucking it away. You felt proud of yourself, feeling accomplished for finding all the gifts you wanted for your friends. 

After a bit more wandering around the city with Kung Lao, you both eventually return back to the palace. You weren’t certain if you were going to go to dinner after a day full of tasting food, but you might for the sake of being with your friends. 

Before you could walk up the stairs into the palace, you stopped. You grabbed Kung Lao’s hand, stopping him in his tracks as well. You noted his hand, and how it still was as soft as it was when you had felt it when you had shook his hand. The former farmhand turned around, sending you a curious look, though there was a bit of a blush on his face.

You weren’t certain why seeing that pink hue on his cheeks was so pleasing to you.

“I just wanted to thank you for accompanying me today.” You said, smiling at him. You felt your hand squeeze his, though you didn’t consciously think about squeezing his hand. “I had a lot of fun going around and trying food with you. Sorry it took so long for me to have some time to hang out with you. I hope today was worth it.” 

“It was fun.” Kung Lao replied, a grin on his lips now. It was lopsided, as usual. You couldn’t help the little sigh that left your lips. “If you really want to make up for it, you could always forget about our little bet-” He noted the little glare you sent his way, and his smile grew. “Kidding! Kidding! But if you did want to make up for it, I would not be opposed to hanging out with you more often.”

“I would not be opposed to that idea either.” You replied. You stood there for a moment more, before you turned to go grab one of the ring boxes from your bag. You turned, inspecting the boxes more to see if you grabbed the right one before you held it out to the man. “Here, the gift for you, like I told you earlier.” 

Kung Lao plucked the box out of your outstretched hand. Almost hesitantly, he let go of your hand so he could open the box with his other hand. You watched as surprise overcame his features as he inspected the ring with the pink gem was sitting in the center of the box. He glanced back and forth between you and the ring. A soft look was on his face as he placed it on.

“I like it.” He said, admiring the ring as it adjusted to fit perfectly upon his. “I see it matches yours too. Now we’re doubly matching.” Kung Lao pointed out, pointing between both the rings and the dragon motifs you both had. A smile that was a little smug appeared on his lips. “Why pink though? Not that I mind.”

“We’re all going to match soon, it was a ring set.” You explained. looking down to the little ring that you had on your hand. “And yes, the necklace you gave me…” You paused, grabbing the necklace to feel it, “it honestly did inspire me, so thank you. As for pink, well…” You trailed off, thinking back. 

For a while now, you’ve associated Kung Lao with cherry blossoms. At first, it was because of how often you saw the petals fall near him at the Wu Shi. It was almost as if he was a magnet for them. But now, with you memories, it only seemed right. Much like many other things, it seemed to be a constant between your lives.

“I think it just fits. It’s the pink of cherry blossoms, which I think are very fitting for you, you always seem to be covered in those petals.” You answered, looking into Kung Lao’s eyes. Another softer look appeared on his face as he heard your explanation. 

“I think it fits too.” Kung Lao admitted, glancing back down to the ring on his hand. A grin spread across his face before he grabbed your hand. “Now let’s go, I don’t want to miss dinner.” His tone was dripping with excitement, despite how much you both had eaten earlier. You nearly stumbled to keep up with his quick pace, but you let out a small laugh as you tightened your grip onto his hand to adjust yourself.

Never change, Kung Lao.

Tonight was an especially beautiful night in the garden. 

The stars seemed to shine a little brighter. The skies seemed to be a little more vibrant, the bits of the purple sky swirling with the dark colors of the night sky. Not a cloud was in sight to block any bit of the view on display for tonight. It was like looking at a piece of art, just for you.

You sighed as you sat alone on the bench in the Hanging Gardens. You weren’t even certain why you were out here. Princess Mileena was out on imperial duties…supposedly. She probably wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. You supposed that you didn’t need her in order to appreciate the garden, but you also couldn’t deny it felt awfully lonely out here without someone to accompany you.

You weren’t sure how you caught the movement while looking up at the sky, but you spotted someone out of the corner of your eye. At first, you perked up. Maybe she was back early and sought your presence here. But as you turned, the figure you saw walking around the gardens was not the princess you were expecting. No, it was someone else.

In fact, it was someone you didn’t even recognize.

A man walked through the gardens. He held himself with grace, an air of elegance surrounded him. His hair, long and neatly tied, cascaded down and fell down his shoulders. A small smile appeared on his lips as he toured the area. You spotted a gleam of gold, and looking down, you saw a golden amulet with a large red gem in the center hanging off his belt. 

As you inspect the stranger, your eyes locked with his. A look of faint surprise appeared on his face, before a smile replaced it. He strode over, and for a moment you felt awkward. You hoped you didn’t leave a bad first impression on this man.

“Hello there.” The man said, stopping a little bit away from you. One of his hands gestured to the spot next to you. “Are you waiting on someone?” He asked, his voice smooth just like honey was. You glanced at the spot, thinking of the princess for a moment, before shaking your head. Gracefully, he sat beside you. “I don’t think we’ve met, to whom do I have the pleasure?”

“We haven’t met.” You confirmed, nodding. You told him your name, eyes scanning the man up and down. No matter how much you inspected him, you could not glean anything from him. If anything, the slight buzzing in your head almost seemed to quell around him. Your lips pursed. Seems you’ve never met this man before in your previous life. “I’m just here for the tournament. I’m from Earthrealm, actually, I’m accompanying Lord Liu Kang and his companions.”

“Oh, the tournament. I had nearly forgotten about that.” The man said, his hands neatly folding in his lap. “I have been so awfully busy carrying out requests for the Empress, I have not had the time to observe. In fact, I’ve only come back tonight just to gather some materials before I go back to my laboratory. A shame, I would have loved to watch.”

“It has been rather exciting, our champion has nearly won all of the matches so far.” You said, trying not to outwardly brag to this stranger. You paused, thinking to the words he said. “You said you had a laboratory, are you a sorcerer, or a mage of some sort?” You asked, thinking back to how Rain had a laboratory of sorts within the Imperial Academy.

“I am.” The stranger replied. The smile on his lips grew slightly as he nodded. “I have the pleasure of being part of the royal court. As much of a privilege it is, it is labor intensive at times, I must admit.” He scanned you, looking up and down. “You sounded quite excited about that prospect, are you interested in magic?”

“I suppose I am.” You admitted. You lifted your hand, shifting it to display a webbed frog hand. “Though I’m from Earthrealm, I have some magic of my own. Back there, we don’t really have magic schools, it’s more commonly thought of as a myth there.” A small hum left the man’s lips as he nodded along. His hands locked in on your limb as it displayed the little feat of magic. If you weren’t mistaken, it almost seemed like he was quite impressed with the little display. 

“Fascinating.” The stranger said, a tone in his voice you couldn’t quite place. Admiration, perhaps? That was the closest thing you could think of. “You can shapeshift, that’s your magic?” He asked, double checking your abilities with you. You blinked, nodding as you changed your hand once more, this time into a horse’s hoof. “Just animals, or are you capable of shifting into humanoids as well?”

“Just animals, I think. I’ve never really tried to transform into another humanoid, really.” You told him. You transformed your arm back, taking some time to mull over his question. You’ve never really…thought about humanoid transformation. Your magic was instinctual, so you’ve never really put much thought into it.

Was it possible? You’d have to explore that idea later.

“I think I’ve heard of you.” The man said. You blinked in surprise, furrowung your eyebrows as you looked at the man suspiciously. You doubted you have too much of a reputation to have random strangers hear of you before. “My colleague, Rain, has mentioned you before, I believe?” He said. You blinked, before you remembered.

Hadn’t Rain mentioned a sorcerer with talents like yours?

“Oh, Rain?” You said, repeating the name. The man nodded. “Ah, you must be the court sorcerer he mentioned!” You told him, a smile now across your features. You tried to think of his name, but found yourself coming up short. Ah, he had been interrupted before he said the name, didn’t he? You sent him an awkward smile. “Sorry, I don’t think he mentioned your name, what was it?”

“My name is Shang Tsung.” The sorcerer said, his smile growing more as he nodded. From the corner of your eye, you swore your saw the red gem in his amulet gleam for just a moment as he introduced himself. Must be the moonlight reflecting off. “It is an honor to meet you.”

“It is an honor to meet you too, Shang Tsung.” You said. The name rolled easily off your tongue. You folded your hands on your lap. “Would you do me a favor?” You asked, tilting your head as you looked at the man. His eyebrows rose, but the charismatic, polite look remained on his face as he nodded. “Could you tell me about magic? I love to hear about it.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

And that night, you think you made a new friend.

tagged - @bonezisded @lollipopin @simpxinnie @zhivaxo @koisuko

[violetashfall]

Holding it together.

Where Carl cannot stop staring at the wrong person.

┊ ➶ ｡˚

!basically fem reader - 3rd person!

[name] is described as strong and midsize. (My attempt at an) unmedicated ADHD-coded personality - comes off as someone with high anxiety.

Special tag: @elisiassideb1tch (Hope you like it)

Be warned 5k words.

Slightly Pretend Warnings;

The ‘misunderstanding’ trope is buried in here

Lots of Insecurity & Anxiety (She’s stressed as hell)

Idk, Carl’s a loser PT2 and putting his one eye to use!

It’s so damn long, the opener is mad. I highlighted the part where Carl finally comes in, but it’s very focused on “[name]” instead of Carl through most of it.

lil angsty

The apocalypse wasn't an easy place, filled with more highways that killed you than took you anywhere needed, all roads tattered with dangerous potholes, deadends, or an invisible line that when crossed filled your stomach with animalistic fear, begging you to turn back.

That's what [names] mind felt like to her, each thought always led somewhere it shouldn't… and the only way she could turn it off was by hunting, she had to be quiet and precise, her thoughts stayed on the tracks she followed - and there was always a goal she could reach.

She couldn't say that about anything else, it didn't feel like it, nothing felt like there was an end to it, not even the end of the world.

…Throw yourself into something and you will succeed, that's what her dad always said - the man had problems but he knew how to teach her to hunt, to identify what mushrooms could be eaten, and what plants to nibble on for some extra energy. 

Wake up, get ready, go hunting, catch something, eat, bring some back, settle down for the night - and then repeat. Never. Stop. Moving. Never start thinking about what she could never forget… because she knew if she stopped, that inevitable burnout would hit far quicker than she could handle, that suffocating knowledge of what would happen when she stopped terrified her because then all she could do was think, lay there - isolated as she always was, and just think.

Since [name] always brought back food to share with Alexandira, people noticed the only thing that never seemed to start moving was her mouth, when someone talked to her she stayed quiet, her mind screaming at her to just run, to make them stop speaking to her, stop acknowledging her…

It became a rule in her mind to not acknowledge something that didn't want to exist, that shouldn’t exist, and in [names] mind, that was her - the thing that shouldn’t be, just like the virus, the walkers, the collapse of everything… It didn't just stem from simple teenage insecurity, it was born from the world killing itself around her, there was no security to be found in the decay, the security she desperately needed and others somehow found.

While she tried not to look at herself, acknowledge she existed, that she could be seen and heard, felt, touched, she still knew her capabilities - you didn’t need to look in the mirror to know how far you could push yourself until breaking point, to know you’re already being pushed, how that band squeezing you, keeping you together would soon snap. 

[name] knew she was strong, strong as whatever held her together, and even though she could hear that band around her groaning and feel it tightening, she didn’t stop moving, because if she kept moving then she didn’t have to think about the things that haunted her. 

She was glad she could still find some light, tracing through the forests, each and every sound filling her mind instead of her overwhelming thoughts… even the fear was downed out.

So when Rick Grimes asked if Carl could accompany her on her hunts, asking her to teach his son a thing or two about tracking and foraging - [name] had to make a decision.

It gnawed at her for nights, she never felt right telling someone no, and it felt selfish to know she didn't want to take Carl, to teach him something so vital to survival, the guilt ate her up, the countless hours her stomach turned and her hands perspired from knowing her safe place would be filled with a watcher who had one piercing blue eye. She couldn’t concentrate during the days that slowly passed… she never could unless she threw herself into whatever finally stuck… all to be unforgivingly spat out without warning whenever her mind decided it was time to let go of everything, anything but the worry that ate her alive.

Ultimately, [name] felt she had to say yes, that week Rick gave her to mull it over got cut short when she agreed after three days.

It was just helping out a boy her age …Still, she was expecting the worst from their first hunt, praying the day never came and also begging for it to be over with already.

Carl wasn’t late, but [name] was early, she had waited and waited until the day came, beating herself up over how this little thing was affecting her so much. She had been standing and watching the gates from afar, the restless half hour already making her pacing feet sore. She wasn’t impatient, she swore it… so why couldn’t she wait like a “normal” person? That was a question she didn’t want to hear the answer to, and luckily the thoughts were interrupted by a sheriff’s hat catching her attention - Carl Grimes moving up to the gates with a pip in his step.

Carl was a… cool kid. He talked a little funny and always wore a goofy grin around his small family… That was pretty much all she knew about him as she tried not to know who she was feeding - she could imagine feeling that anxiety of someone you know going over the walls, risking themselves, so she tried not to know anybody.

“...So, uh… do you like comics?” Carl asked after many minutes of complete, tense, silence. They had gotten past the gates 30 minutes ago and all [name] did was throw him a nod and a ‘let's go’ It was not what he expected from a girl with eyes as full as hers were.

Similar to [name], Carl had been counting the days too, how couldn’t he? She was such a mystery… one he had the opportunity to learn from.

The voiceless silence held for another minute, the sounds of Carl’s boots stumbling over a tree root broke through the atmospheric sounds, prompting [name] to finally answer, “...No.” her voice was quiet and her eyes kept locked forward - She didn't mean to seem so standoffish, or rude, she just couldn't help but feel panic when someone, anyone, questioned her… she didn’t get how she was supposed to teach him anything, trying to figure what to point out, trying to catch a trail to even begin the “lesson”.

Carl's lips parted and closed several times as he tried to figure out what to say - he hadn't met a kid his age who just didn't like comics or was so blunt about it, every teen in Alexandria had opened one, it was one of the only forms of entertainment for them. “Have you ever read any?”

[name’s] jaw tightened a little. It wasn't like she wanted to seem unapproachable, she just didn't want to be approached… “No,” She answered again, it felt odd to say no, the words didn’t quite fit her tongue. That time her voice had a slight waver of nervousness Carl didn’t catch.

“Can you say you don't like them if you've never tried?” Carl questioned, wanting to start something friendly, lips twitching as he tried not to speak more and more. He didn’t even see the anxiety in all her movements or catch the uneasy glances she threw around the forest. 

What would a girl like her have to be anxious about? …Other than the obvious of an apocalypse... she just seemed capable enough to deal with it on her own. Carl thought so, most people did, but [name] knew she wasn't. She resented herself for it - these were things she didn’t want anyone to uncover, so she didn’t answer his question with anything more than a shrug, keeping it short, nothing to grab on to and use for more conversation… more guilt inevitably built up.

Carl moved beside her as they walked, eye soon trained on her arm as her unbuttoned flannel draped off it. A part of him wanted to feel jealous that she was obviously stronger than him, insecure that the girl was in much better shape for the apocalypse - but instead, all he got was a lousy crush, one he had held for a few months, he was very curious about the girl who could out-hunt Daryl Dixon, had been since he saw 2 guards help her lug a deer into Alexandria.

[name] looked at Carl, feeling a slight glare coming along as she tugged her dropped sleeve back over her arm - feeling something she could only describe as insecurity crash over her in a heated wave. She finally realised how much Carl was eyeing her - looking at her more than she had herself in weeks.

She kept moving, hoping that embarrassed blush wouldn't follow her, that the worries and stupid insecurities wouldn't either, but they all followed her… reminding her of each and every emotion she was trying to suppress so desperately.

It was supposed to be her time, hunting, alone as always, the one thing she could do without losing interest, without failing - but now she had a watcher, someone trying to learn off her - someone acknowledging every move she made, all while trying to perceive her. She felt so weak when she realised she wanted to cry, that it was too much, that she was so overwhelmed - she didn’t know how to cool down, all she could do was wait.

Carl quickly diverted his attention when he realised he got caught staring - not quite feeling like the blind idiot he should have, he didn’t know she was insecure, didn't even think she could be. 

She reminded him of certain women in his vintage comic books, the statuesque aliens from female-dominated planets, how they were drawn with strong, rounded arms and shapely legs with wide hips he just wanted to touch, how they dipped before meeting outer thigh. He quite liked those comics and began favouring them the older he got, looking over the pages for longer than he’d care to admit… Looking over [name] more than he’d care to admit.

These women were always depicted with poisonously neon skin and skimpy studded outfits, completely unrealistic, in all ways–Carl assumed. He didn’t believe he’d actually see a body reflect the shapes on paper so well, but there [names] body was, hidden under loose clothes that draped over her hips as if it were carefully chiselled marble, Carl was sure she was Aphrodite’s favourite creation.

[name] peeked over her shoulder to see Carl staring at her legs, lips closed yet jaw slightly slack… [name] thought he was about to talk with such an expression on his face. She looked forward again, cheeks flushed red and suddenly everything sounded too loud, time passed too slow, and she felt too seen, too judged. How was she supposed to believe she had caught an admirer when she was hellbent on pretending she didn't exist?

“You see everything around us? Can you tell how many animals and how little walkers move through here?” She asked Carl, desperately trying to get his attention off of her. She was not so subtly directing his attention to some animal tracks they could follow, anything to get his eye off her. Carl tore his stare away from her legs, her hips - looking around at what the hell he was supposed to find, “I think there are some rabbits that pass through?” He questioned, pointing at the small uneven breaks in the dirt, printed with hops of lucky little rabbit feet, he could also catch some chew marks on low plants - didn't that mean they were safe to eat?

[name] nodded her head, a slight shrug to her shoulders as her fists clenched and unclenched. “Mhm, good job.” She began walking to find a fresh trail to set Carl on, but Carl found it hard to walk without his knees wobbling for a second. Her murmured praise doing things to him - the person he admired so fully had complimented him. 

Maybe his desperation to know her was from how aloof she seemed, how she didn’t look him in the eye or make conversation, she just seemed so uninterested in him - it made him want to get her attention so badly. He was so oblivious to how nervous he made her, everyone made her… So he started conversation again.

“So, how’d you learn this stuff?” He asked, following after her as he secured the bandage around his eye again, trying to stop his gawking by only looking at her face, he needed to see her rounded cheeks swell with a smile someday. 

[name] tried to take some inconspicuous deep breaths, frustration flooding through her since he kept prying at her. [name] was trying to find the rabbit's tracks, trying not to break down and cry like the little child she felt she was... All she felt like she did was try sometimes, try and fail, but she didn’t fold that time, she kept a straight face, unaffected, “confident”...

“Let's follow these tracks.” She diverted - not wanting to answer his question. [name] found herself unable to straighten her neck from the slouch she walked in, an attempt at looking intrigued by the rabbit tracks she’d seen thousands of times before.

Carl nodded his head, once again failing to make eye contact with her at the rare time she wasn’t ahead of him. He shook his head, ready to try again any chance he got.

[name] knew she had to find a way to get behind him, let him feel like he was accomplishing something so he didn’t focus on her so entirely.

The little silence didn't last long, and neither did [names] mock interest, looking around the forest like she was trying to find something - only seeing trees, more trees, and maybe an extra tree. 

Carl snuck up beside her as they slowly followed the trail, eye smoothly travelling to her after pretending the sky was so interesting, “The– uh, how you learnt?” He quickly fumbled what was supposed to be a smooth reminder, “--to hunt?” he cleared up like he meant to, cheeks puffing for a split second as he awkwardly coughed. “How’d you learn to hunt?”

[name] actually sighed at that, her step buffering for a moment when she realised what she had done, “Um, my dad?” She said, actually replying in a clearer tone, voice surprisingly gentle, subtly apologising for the irritability she showed, even if he may not have caught it, “He taught me, we lived in a small place… our backyard was basically a hunting ground.” To anyone, she’d sound friendly, open–but she felt like a Gecko dropping its tail, she was giving herself time to escape, to think of a plan to answer the least amount of questions she could while he thought on the one she had already given him.

Carl’s eyebrow raised, looking around at the tracks again as he subconsciously led, not noticing how she purposely kept dragging on a step to slow down and get behind him. 

“That’s cool, deep in the woods?” He questioned, rolling his shoulders as he took more notice of the forest around them. [name] nodded her head, finally looking at him now he wasn’t staring at her, “Yeah, a super shabby cabin.” she rubbed the back of her neck, feeling the ache slowly subside.

Carl knew better than to ask about family, even though he was so curious. “That’s cool, you must feel more prepared than all of us.”

[name] wanted to disagree, she wanted her opinion known to such an assuming boy, but at the same time, she couldn't find any real desire to speak, not enough. Not nearly enough.

Carl realised she wasn't going to answer, what was he supposed to ask next? “Do you think these trails go on for long?” he thought that probably sounded like a stupid question, but what else was he supposed to ask? When he looked back at her, he managed to catch her eye contact for a second before she looked away. He had a little smile trying to curve the corner of his lips, finally... She had looked him in the eye.

“Maybe, they’re new…ish, we’ll see.” She tried to urge him to continue walking by picking up her pace, hoping he’d copy. The day had already been too long and it was only an hour since they left the walls, more and more were to be accumulated.

 “...You’re out here a lot,” Carl murmured. Simple enough, as long as he got a few mumbles back he’d keep speaking. His mind raced with other questions though, mouth barely parted to prompt more and more, already itching for another answer. [name] wanted to roll her eyes again, feeling guilt pooling out her palms as she rubbed the anxious dew off and onto her jeans. “Mhm, Gotta be.”

“You sound like Daryl,” Carl chuckled, shaking his head a little at his thought, “do you know him?” He slowed his steps, trying to walk beside her in the awkwardly small path, a hand on the top of his hat so it didn’t get knocked off by all the tigs knocking his head.

“No.” She didn’t know anyone, Carl was bound to find out what a loser she was that day, something she didn’t want - why couldn't she just ghost her way through life? It’d be easier. She rubbed her eyebrow and took a big deep breath - Carl seeing what a nervous move that was got comforted by it, he wasn’t alone in his awkwardness anymore, “Oh… Have you ever talked to him?”

“No.” When was the last time she said ‘no’ so much? When she was a toddler throwing a tantrum after wearing the wrong socks? “--He grunted at me once, after I spooked him while sitting in a tree, I didn’t mean to - he didn’t know I was there until I snapped a twig.” She hated how much she was talking, it felt wrong, everything felt wrong.

Carl laughed a little, watching as her movements grew more anxious the longer she spoke - he assumed he’d get the reverse effect - how was he supposed to get her comfortable around him? She was out of his league, he didn’t get her, but he was hellbent on trying, “Sounds like him… You climb?”

Of course she climbed, you needed to climb better than you could run in the apocalypse, “Do you?” She asked, looking around again - clearly not focused on the trail at all, barely following after his steps. Carl didn’t know he’d be leading so fast, he didn’t mind though - it was nice to believe she thought him capable. “Yeah,” He nodded, voice cracking slightly - his freckled nose scrunching as his throat betrayed him, he wasn’t all that good at climbing, but he had to butter himself up.

[names] brows cocked with a lazy nod, once again Carl realised she wasn’t about to add anything else. She wasn’t a very talkative teacher, a part of him liked she was just letting him find things out on his own - he hadn’t got such aloof treatment from anyone else, and he didn’t seem to be a helpless kid in her mind. “You just sit in trees, huh?”

[name] felt his tone was mocking, creating trouble in her mind that wasn’t real. “Mhm,” She murmured her eyes moving to him and settling on his shoulders.

“That, that's cool…” He mumbled with a shrug, looking back to the trail as he tried to salvage the situation, why did he feel like he said the wrong thing? He was confused. “I bet you.. See a lot…” He dryly ended, mentally facepalming at his dull observation.

“Sometimes.” [name] replied, on the verge of becoming completely monosyllabic. She felt her stomach twist further, the back of her throat burning as the pressure to keep talking kept getting harder and harder to ignore, “Better to take a break in a tree than on the ground, don’t want to get eaten.”

Carl had a hard time listening to her mumble, but he caught it enough to reply, “Oh, right. Yeah, that’s true.” He sniffled airily, following the rabbity trail around a tree as the animal seemed to have drifted to the right. “Better safe than sorry,” He had to suppress the groan that wanted to come out–using parental sayings would totally woo her, right?

[name] hummed softly, a short moment that seemed to make all the sounds in the forest go silent for Carl. “My dad used to say that,” She said a little too naturally for her own liking. Carl peeked at her from the corner of his eye, did he ask about her father now? Would that be too much? 

“My dad does too,” Safe enough, he thought, nodding his head as he picked up his pace to get some of that uncomfortable energy out.

The trail went on and on, and so did Carl’s thoughts the longer voiceless time seemed to pass, wondering who he was alone with.

…did she have friends? Who were they? Why were they her friends and he wasn’t? His thoughts bounced around–It’s not like he knew many people his age, there was Ron, dead. And there was Mikey but they drifted apart, luckily Enid stuck around - his second best friend after Michonne… Maybe [name] knew Enid? The two girls were practically the only ones in Alexandria. “Do you know Enid?” He broke the silence that had stretched for half an hour while they slowly trailed after the rabbit prints. [name] jumped a little, getting reminded she wasn’t alone as they had stopped for a minute. Carl searched around, trying to recatch the trail that went cold while she knelt to examine some mushrooms growing near the trees. 

“...Your girlfriend?” She questioned - Carl was close to going red, his head whipping around to look at the girl who was poking at ghostly white mushrooms. “No! No–” He said, desperately trying to sound available to her - it didn’t help that [name] finally looked over her shoulder at him, eyes meeting his one. He was frozen, quickly cracking that ice that caused his muscles to go stiff and looked away. “She’s my best friend…” He mumbled, glancing at her to see something he didn’t expect - a cheeky fucking smirk that made his heart drop.

“Oh,” [name] said, examining the mushrooms once more, believing Carl just had a thing for the girl if he was acting shy and defensive. “No, I don’t. She’s sweet though, I’ve heard her laugh.” 

Carl's brow furrowed, that was… cute. Would she say nice things about him to someone else?

[name] plucked a mushroom from the ground, standing up and moving towards Carl, twirling the capped fungi between two fingers. “You know what this is?” She asked, the prior silence that settled on them got her to calm some nerves, the deeper they got into the forest the more and more brush built up, and the closer the trees got - the harder it became for walkers to get through. Semi-safe, bustling with wildlife and plants that caught her eye… easy to ignore Carl’s presence that made her so nervous.

“Um,” He blinked, watching as she walked close - trying not to check her out anymore than he already had. “Is it... Edible?” He questioned, almost trying to get a hint, he wished he listened to Maggie more when she pointed out mushrooms to Glenn.

“No,” She said, “It’s very poisonous,” She told him, a brow raising. Carl saw how the plant interested her - finally, he found something she liked. Now he had to know everything about mushrooms. She spoke up again to his delight, “They’re usually just called Destroying Angel mushrooms, they're very pretty - right? But they can kill you.”

‘Like you’ Carl wanted to mutter, wondering why she was touching it if it was so poisonous, but he would touch her even if poison seeped from her skin, so… “You can touch it?” He asked, stepping closer to look at the mushroom, forgetting about the trail completely. “Yeah, but it’s best not to, just in case.” She shrugged, Carl unable to look away from her face again as his heart did flips - maybe all she needed was a mushroom to talk about and she was off - like him and his comics. He found her too sweet, “Oh, so… It’s only dangerous if you eat them?”

[name] nodded, catching his piercing blue eye for a second before her stomach got all tight again - quite mortified she was speaking so freely, having forgotten Carl was an actual person with thoughts, and quickly remembering his staring problem that got insecurities to swallow her whole. “Yeah, I’ve seen some deer nibble on them, I’m not sure if they’re edible to them or if they don’t eat enough to get sick.” She decided to throw some more information out, she was supposed to be teaching him after all… 

Carl couldn’t figure out how to respond, what was happening? Did he throw out another “cool”? A “that's so awesome”? He stayed quiet to his horror, but [name] didn’t seem to mind at all, if anything she preferred the silence. 

“Have you lost the trail? Need me to help?” She asked, moving away from the boy as he fidgeted with his sheriff's hat.  As Carl stuttered a sentence, brain lagging as he tried to say no - but she had already pinpointed where it started again, little black boots continuing through the uneven grass the rabbit had hopped through. She decided to say some more, figuring out just how to keep him quiet, she’d try his ego next - giving him another compliment to fill his mind instead of curiosity, “You’re doing really good, I thought you’d lose the trail much earlier than this.” God, she felt so awkward.

“Thanks?” He said as he caught up to her, not knowing if she was dissing him by assuming he’d lose it quicker than he did, but he couldn’t deny how happy he felt that she said he was great… well, doing great. “...Say we do find rabbits, do we just… bring them back? Do I get to shoot?” He asked, not exactly wanting to kill fluffy little creatures, but he knew he had to suck it up, he planned on living until his last elderly breath - and he had to be able to hunt if that was going to happen, scavenging was already becoming harder and harder.

“Sure, If you want.” She agreed, nodding her head as she answered his questions, “They’re just rabbits.. they shouldn’t be hard to bring back.” She shrugged her shoulders, feeling more comfortable around him if she ignored how he had stared at her… But she wasn’t the best at ignoring intrusive thoughts, the ones that told her he was judging her.

“Right, yeah.” Carl nodded, eye flickering with a blink as the sun that leaked through the forest's canopy pooled into his pupil, if only he didn’t look like an idiot when wearing sunglasses. “Um, do you take many breaks?” He wondered, he didn’t want to seem weak like he needed breaks - but he was one-eyed with a dodgy ear canal: he got dizzy easily - it meant he did indeed need breaks, the ones he usually refused to take…

[name] wanted to say no, tell him the truth, but Rick had warned her about his son's difficulty after the poor boy got shot in the face - Carl had easy enough needs to accommodate, god knows she had them too, ones that weren’t as simple as his. “Yeah, of course.” She nodded her head, she was ready for one thing - and that was making it easy on Carl to get through the hunt - because if she was easy on him, that meant less would go wrong, no extra difficulty to overcome. “Would you like one now?” She questioned. Carl shook his head - playing it cool, “No,” He told her before reluctantly adding, “Maybe in 20 minutes?” He knew his limits, and he couldn’t risk pushing them too far with [name] bearing witness.

“Sounds good,” She agreed, not knowing how she was supposed to have a break, what was she supposed to do? Just sit..? What if it turned into her never wanting to get up again? That had happened more times than she could count.

Carl began following the trail quicker than before, fumbling limbs rushing to impress her with pretend ease he didn’t really have. The longer he spent in the forest the more things he began messing up, he thought she'd be tough about it, but she just silently pointed to the tracks he missed when he got too twisted up. he needed a break half an hour ago, but he could push himself a little further - just for her. 

Tracking through the forest wasn’t easy for Carl if he wasn’t getting distracted by how [name] moved it was his headache that began building, it didn’t matter how many sips of water he took he needed to take a painkiller, ones he didn’t like using knowing someone else could need them more than him, but he needed to be his best self in front of [name] so he discreetly took a few when she wasn’t looking.

“Can we take a break?” He rubbed the back of his head, feet planted on the ground as dizziness fogged his mind, ready to sit and wait for the medication to kick in. 

[name] looked at Carl as she paused with him, seeing a small grimace on his face - Rick had warned her about the migraines. “Good spot to sit a while,” She agreed, kicking her boots through some fallen leaves, hand getting placed on the trunk of a tree she resisted climbing up instinctively - despite what Carl said earlier, she couldn’t imagine he’d be in a good place to climb. She could sit on the ground that once, she didn’t always need to be on full alert... Right?

Moving to a small clearing, [name] sat down on littered grass, able to see little bugs move through the dirt. Carl watched as she sat, not so sneakily trying to sit beside her… staring at her from the corner of his eye, yet he couldn’t do it for long, finally giving into the urge to lean back against a tree and cover his vision with his hat, blocking out the bright light that had been taunting him ever since he got shot.

[name] watched with some curiosity, seeing how the boy just… stopped. He made it look easy, like a choice, she wanted to copy him - to see if she could get used to breaks too. She took a tense breath, shuffling to rest against the tree closest to her. She leaned back, slowly closing her eyes, ankles crossed over each other as her head fell back against wood.

The more [name] thought about it the easier she felt around him, Carl was damaged too - maybe she didn’t have to wear a full mask around him, well, a full suit of armour was the better description... 

Maybe agreeing to Rick’s request wasn’t so bad after all, because there she sat - for once able to stop without her thoughts filling the depths of her mind with draining worry… Maybe the rest of her day wouldn’t be so bad…

SO, I’m impressed if you read this far! I had so much fun writing this, I got stuck many times near the “end”… still, I’m hoping to make a little series :) Confession time: I haven't watched TWD in a year, I’m so scared to rewatch it because jesusss do I get jealous (Of a zombie apocalypse, I know..) I get a little crazy and so despondent, I think I’m gonna flip through clips so I remember how the characters act instead.

I’m so surprised I’m publishing another Carl story before I posted a Ron or Enid one, but It got prompted by a request from a lovely person so how couldn't I?!? It’s so long but I feel like I have much more I wanted to write anyway...

[neteyamslovrr]

DO YOU LOVE HER - pt 2

summary: after finding out your first love lo'ak had cheated on you with tsireya, you are left to find yourself again. luckily the chief's son is ready to be there along with you

content: 1.2k words, fem!omatikaya reader, angst, negative self talk, depression, hurt comfort

authors note: i'm so sorry i've been so dead here on tumblr!! lifes been getting me buttt her is the awaited pt2. i have a headcanon that na'vi's love hard, so they also get heartbroken hard. so i incorporated that. hope you enjoy babies!!

pt 1

It was like the world went grey after that night. Walking away from Lo’ak with tears falling down your face as sobs so loud even the waves couldn’t silence them echoed out into the night.

How were you meant to live here. Alone, no family, no lover. You couldn’t go back to the marui you shared with the Sully’s. You couldn’t go back to the forest. You were alone.

This feeling didn’t go away. It had been weeks and you were still barely being seen in the open. You moved your stuff into a small marui on the edge of the village, the Sully’s especially Tuk asked why you were moving but you didn’t have the energy to explain it to them. You decided it was Lo’ak’s responsibility.

But the days and nights merged into one. The soft breeze of the wind, you never felt as you stayed hidden away. Your hair was starting to get messy, your eyes having large eyebags below them, your figure frail and weak as you had not attended any communal dinners in weeks.

Concern grew for you immensely in the Sully home, as Lo’ak felt himself be eaten up with guilt. It crawled in and gnawed at his heart every time he looked at the closed curtains of your secluded home.

“Lo’ak…you must talk with her.” Neytiri says, brushing her hands through her son’s hair. She missed your presence dearly. You were another daughter of hers.

“and say what? She does not want apologies.” Lo’ak complained twitching away from Neytiri’s loving touches.

“She has not been out of the house in a very long time…Lo’ak you have to own up to your choices and fix this.” Lo’ak shook his head fiercely.

“I can’t fix this…I can’t fix this at all.”

However, there was someone who was making their way to your marui. Ready to fix this, ready to see you thrive. Sick and tired of your decline.

You heard the shuffle of your closed curtains and groaned at the sudden brightness. “go away.”

“Get up.” You shot up in an instant at the familiar voice.

“Ao’nung?...What are you doing here?” Ao’nung assessed your features. Your sickliness made him feel queasy, you were so pale, so thin. His heart broke just seeing you like this.

“I am the chief’s son, I have a duty to make sure everyone in my clan is doing alright….and I’m worried about you.” The last part of his sentence was said with tenderness, his usually cocky face showing an uttermost care and sincerity.

“…well I’m fine. You can go.” Your voice was as harsh as it could be, it was raspy, raw from all the hysterical cries you had let out.

“We both know you’re not…” Ao’nung stepped closer to you, his rough fingers reaching out to touch your cold shoulder. Both literally and figuratively.

“I don’t want you pity.”

“I don’t pity you…I’m worried about you.” Ao’nung said, crouching down so he could be eye-level with you as you laid in your bed.

“I know you pity me. The brother of the woman my first love cheated on me with. You are probably being tasked to do this. Please just go…I don’t need help.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“I’ve had that said to me before.”

Lo’ak was making his way towards your secluded marui. His palms were sweaty, shaking as he walked. His heart-beated louder in his chest the closer he got to your home. His mind swirled with what to say to you. How he could ever reconcile the bond between you. How you could ever forgive him.

As he reached the entrance of your marui he felt paralysed with fright. He stood at the slighty shut curtain, as he peeked inside.

You were sobbing, lips quivering as your chest heaved up and down. He saw your broken figure the way you were shaking, your incoherent mumbles followed by the aggressive hiccups of your loud cries.

“I just don’t understand why I wasn’t good enough…” You cried out loud, he thought you were crying to yourself, breaking yourself down with your thoughts. But he was wrong.

A soft shush came from inside the tent. As Lo’ak peered closer he noticed a familiar figure, soothing your worked up cries as he patted the back of your head, letting you cry into his chest. Ao’nung

He didn’t know why he felt so sick seeing you cry in another man’s arms. He had no right to feel possessive over you when he had done you so wrong. But maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t fix this. That he had completely lost you, but not only as a lover, but as a friend. Someone who followed him to the ends of the earth.

“You are good enough…don’t talk about yourself like that.” Ao’nung hugged you tightly. It was the first touch, the first sense of comfort you had felt in weeks. Maybe that’s why your walls broke down so first. Crumbling into his outstretched hands. “He was just selfish…it was not you, not you at all.” He comforted, letting your cries deafen him as you continued to shake and shiver in his arms.

Lo’ak felt as if he was going to puke. The reality of his selfishness occurring right in front of him. He had to go. He couldn’t do this. He was too selfish to face his own choices, too scared to realise the truth of what he had done to you.

Ripped you away from the forest, your family, your clan. Only to desert you the moment he found his heart buzzing. He was immature and he would live his life loving in guilt, knowing that he sacrificed your happiness for his own.

So he walked away. His head hung low in shame. As the calls of the happy villagers around him seemed to taunt him. How could anyone rejoice in a time like this? But he did what led him to this problem in the first place. He headed straight to Tsireya for comfort.

Your crying subsided eventually, throat feeling raw as Ao’nung quietly hushed you as he rocked you in his arms.

If you weren’t in a completely vulnerable state you would have already crawled out of his arms and washed off his stench. But right now as you both sat in your bed, as he cradled you in his arms, rocking you back and forth. You felt cared for, for the first time in a long time.

His arms were strong, as he moved the hair out of your face softly, letting you grow sleepy in his embrace.

“you know it’s not your fault. Right?” You frowned, lips tucked into each other as you looked into his deep stare,.

“one day I will…” ao’nung nodded and rocked you both back and forward until your sad whimpers turned into soft snores as he watched you sleep peacefully.

Ao’nung was sure he would beat Lo’ak harder than he had ever been beaten before. No mercy would be given. But right now he focused on the broken girl in his arms, that he was determined to make sure was whole again.

tags: @8resa @ilovejakesullysdick @neteyamsblog @live-laugh-neteyam @reyalvr @trashfox @darkacademictrash @scntfrhs @dreamyescapesfromreality @fanboyluvr @neteyamzmate @neteyamyawne @neteyamssbaby @lixiesbrowniess

thankyou sm for reading!! reblogs + replies so totally appreciated thankyou lovelies &lt;333

[hotpinkboots]

You should do a fic where reader is like a female version of Sweeney Todd or sm and mrs.lovett is like obsessed with them

:)

~~~~~

~𝓜𝓻𝓼. 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓽𝓽 x Fem!Sweeney!Reader~

(Headcanons + Mini-Oneshot(s))

SWEENEY TODD BUT LESBIANS? YES.

Note(s): Female Reader, it is mentioned that the Reader likes to sketch, "(L/N)" stands for "Last Name", I occasionally switched between using "Nellie" and "Mrs. Lovett" to keep it fresh, Reader overall has Sweeney's personality and backstory

Warning(s): Dark themes, Cannibalism mentioned, Blood mentioned, Mrs. Lovett is a yandere, Delusional mindset, Unhealthy + Codependent relationship, Manipulation, Mention of being hanged

How long it took to write: 4 hrs, 30 mins

~~~~~

𝓜𝓻𝓼. 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓽𝓽 set down a plate in front of you, next to your parchment of which your pencil had been scratching on for the last hour. On the plate sat a piping hot fresh meat pie. She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head, watching you intently, waiting for you to take a bite. You glanced at the pie, remembering how horrific the last one she fed you was. Your eyes flicked up to her briefly, expression unreadable. You then returned to your drawing.

She sighed in exasperation, letting her right arm fall to her side. She nudged the plate forward with her index finger. "C'mon, y'haven't eaten a thing all day. Promise this one's good." Nellie's gaze lingered softly on you as she added, "...Put a lot of love int'it, Ms. (L/N)," she added gently to guilt trip you into taking a bite.

You decided to humor her, praying that this one wouldn't do anything too terribly awful to your gag reflexes. Her stare made you uncomfortable as you took a reluctant bite. Lucky for you, this one was decent- delicious, even. You paused your chewing, taking another hesitant look at her. Did she just feed you one of the victims? You had no desire to try human for yourself. Mrs. Lovett quickly shook her head no. "Chicken. It's chicken, I swear it," she promised.

You thought it over momentarily, muttering a "Thank you", then taking another bite. Mrs. Lovett smiled proudly, giving your shoulder a pat. "O'course, love." You had expected her to leave your personal space, but rather, she lingered. She continued to hover beside you like some sort of maid awaiting a command. One more glance from you gave her the hint to leave. She took a hesitant step backwards, murmuring an awkward, "Oh- right." Nellie walked away, throwing one more secret look at you from over her shoulder.

She began to wipe down the counter, cleaning off imaginary crumbs as an excuse to keep an eye on you. She occasionally looked to see your reaction to the pie, you seemed to be enjoying it. Nellie certainly knew the way to a man's heart was through his stomach-...well. She hoped it worked for ladies, too. Mrs. Lovett looked down, pretending to focus on cleaning up the kitchen. She hummed as she worked, all while contemplating her future with you.

The business was running smoothly, and she was worn out by the end of each day from running to the cellar, collecting and chopping the "meat", baking, taking orders, serving, etc. She certainly had her work cut out for her. It would all be worth it, she knew, for one day, she'd live a cozy life with you. Perhaps not like she was imagining, but you and she could get by. The money was certainly piling in with the customers that came every day. Soon, she could finally live comfortably. But she couldn't live comfortably without you. She wished you'd open up eventually.

~Mrs. Lovett is so in love with you that it's disgusting. If she were given the chance to inject your blood into her veins just to feel you closer, to know a part of you is pumping through her to keep her alive, she would. But this wouldn't be enough- she wants to be part of you, as well. If she gained the bravery to do so, she would cut her own hand open to allow her blood to drip into your next meal, watch you eat it, and be satisfied that a part of her was inside of you, connecting you to her by blood.

~Of course, this is all wishful thinking. Mrs. Lovett tries to be somewhat normal with you, while still making it very obvious that she's in love with you. In public, she casts glances at you from the corner of her eye and makes a point of standing close enough to you that people grow suspicious that you may be a couple. She always makes something for you to eat, taking an extra long time on it so it's perfect (note that she can, in fact, cook delicious meals, she was only unable to before because there wasn't money for high-quality ingredients). She checks on you so often that it becomes a chore for you to tell her "I'm fine" multiple times a day, etc.

~Nellie sees herself as being the only person who can tame you. She thinks she needs to gently coax you into opening up to her. She finds ways to manipulate you into thinking that the world is cruel and she's the only warmth you'll find in it. Nellie believes she's the best option for you, and you're the best option for her. You were born for each other, your hearts beat in sync every second of every day, she's sure of it. Mrs. Lovett sings about you, sometimes purposely around you to show off her voice, and so you know that you're the only person on her mind.

~She'll eventually grow very lonely and desperate for you if you deny her for a long period of time. Nellie gets rather touchy-feely with her affection, brushing her hand against yours, kissing your shoulder when she walks by, fixing your hair far more than needed, and giving you a few pet names.

~But, Mrs. Lovett isn't always so lovey and adoring. She's refreshingly cheeky and exasperated. She once pretended to be inconvenienced when she spotted a cut on your hand from your barber shears. She patched you up and scolded you to be more careful, while you sat and humored her, knowing full well you could do it yourself. Nellie is very happy to be taking care of you, even if it's just the smallest opportunity to do so, and even if she plays hard to get about it.

~Somehow, her clingy behavior, the way she looks at you so deeply, and how she's always insisting on planning for the future with you, begins to get into your head and heart. She's such a unique lady, you've really never met anybody like her. Nellie always looks so perfectly disheveled, you've started taking a liking to her messy hair and her cheeky remarks from across the room to fill the silence. She's a quick-witted lady, any suspicions from a customer would result in an easy cover-up explanation from Mrs. Lovett. She works quickly and efficiently in her shop, trotting about to get the work done. All of her strange little personality quirks became home to you. Nellie infuriated you in more ways than one, and really, you wouldn't have it any other way.

~By this point, you and Mrs. Lovett are completely codependent on each other. You couldn't imagine a life without her. This was all her idea, anyway, where would you be without her? Poor and alone, that's where, perhaps even back in prison. The same goes for Mrs. Lovett. She'd continue to be alone in her empty shop without you. She most likely would've gone mad (although, she's gone quite mad already) with her lonesome life.

~Nellie couldn't be more satisfied with the way everything turned out. The business was flourishing, the money was coming in, and she had the love of her life by her side.

𝓜𝓻𝓼. 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓽𝓽 had quite a tiring day. She was busier these days than she had ever been- she was grateful for the customers, but she was undeniably exhausted. Going up and down the steps of the cellar had done a number on her knees, she had been in such a hurry that she'd burned herself on the furnace a few times, and to top it all off, one of the customers had been infuriating. When she finally had time to sit down and enjoy a cup of tea, she'd fallen asleep.

You quietly went down the stairs to the first floor of the building, Nellie's pie shop. You spotted her lounging back on the chaise lounge, the dying fire crackling softly, her tea cold without even a sip of it gone. You reckoned she must've been exhausted, doing most of the work, while you simply stayed upstairs slitting throats and sending them down the chute. You had the easy part of the job, you realized, as you made your way with silent steps over to where she lay.

Nellie felt you coming toward her even in her sleep. She turned her head in your direction and muttered something incomprehensible at you. You didn't respond verbally, but you gained the courage to lean down and give an affectionate peck to the top of her head, your breath gently ruffling her unkempt hair. Mrs. Lovett immediately opened her eyes and looked up at you. She scoffed when she saw that you were walking away. "Y'can't just kiss me an'walk away. Come back, love," she called after you, her voice sounding raspy as she had just woken up.

Mrs. Lovett sat up to make room for you, while you hesitated before walking back to sit by her. She rested her chin on your shoulder, looking up at you with rich dark brown eyes. "Ms. (L/N)," She murmured tenderly, waiting expectantly for you to kiss her lips. "Don't be shy," Nellie added playfully, hoping that you would follow through.

All of her dreams suddenly came true when you cupped her cheek tenderly. She wanted to rush it and kiss you already, after all, she'd been waiting months for this, but she knew it would make the moment far less special if she gave you a hurried kiss. Nellie's eyes fluttered shut, as did yours. You felt her tender lips against yours moments later, your body melting into her like soft butter on warm toast. Neither of you had kissed anybody in years. This felt like a first kiss for both of you, full of adoration and pure unadulterated devotion.

Just as yours had, her body melted, as well, in relief. She was finally kissing you, after so long of daydreaming about it. Nellie softly ran her fingers down your jawline, her other hand busy tracing the back of your soft neck. You could feel her smile against your lips. Once the kiss was broken, she looked up at you sweetly. You caressed her cheek with your knuckles, causing her to lean into your hand as though she had never been touched so gently in her life.

You and Nellie had an unspoken agreement that night. You'd stay together forever, until death do you part- whether from natural causes, or from the noose you'd hang by should society ever find out the secret ingredient in Mrs. Lovett's meat pies.

~~~~~

Request Guidelines!

~Love, PinkBoots

[celestie0]

If someone looked at me the way Gojo was looking at Y/N after ugly crying I think I’d be carrying their kids tbh…

Poor Y/N is so scared to let someone in she puts up wall after wall the moment things get a bit too real 😭 but I get her. Every meaningful relationship in her life has been “temporary” (for lack of a better word) so far: her father left them, Choso abandoned her the moment he wanted Yuna’s pussy (although he was gone way before that), and her mom can’t really be there for her anymore through no fault of her own. I get why she has walls up when it comes to Gojo, they entered the relationship knowing it wasn’t real so why set yourself up for the inevitable hurt when it’s over.

The guilt of lying to someone you love even though you know it’s probably for the best is so painful, I hope Y/N allows herself some grace. Mourning your parents so young, at any age really is never easy and she’s doing it all alone too. I hope she has the happiest of endings because I feel like she’s going to need all the support she can get as her mom’s illness progresses 😭

Y/N is so much stronger than me because I’d probably have taken him up on that sex to blow off steam option even if he wasn’t being serious (I feel like he’d be so down though) 🤷🏽‍♀️

I’m super excited to see how their relationship progresses. The emotional connection they’re developing is actually extending my lifespan.

Thank you so much for the chapter, this is genuinely one of the best works I’ve ever read so I sincerely thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing your work with us 🥰 I hope you’re doing well and that life is treating you amazingly! Can’t wait for the next chapter, I know it’ll be fantastic

(P.S - his mom’s wedding ring fitting her perfectly had be kicking and blushing 😭 if that isn’t a sign they’re meant to be then IDK WHAT IS)

hi my love oh gosh i could CRY!!!!!!!!!! this ask made me so happy because you 100% hit on like literally every single point that i wanted to emphasize in the chapter and also even managed to predict things that are to come as well??? i ask for your hand in marriage pleaaasseeeee 💍💍

HAHA yes i liked writing the parts where she’s like basically just blowing her nose on him 😂

aaaaaaa yess she definitely has sm walls up bc of how many people have left her and/or betrayed her, i think an additional heartbreak is the fact that she is literally a night shift nurse who saves lives, but isn’t even helped by the very system that she serves (healthcare)…i would be so jaded if i were her too :”( but tysm for having empathy for her!! i think it would take a very patient person to be w her n i def think ihm gojo is that guy hahah

YES ihm will have a sweet ending and we will see as the series progresses that reader softens and starts to reclaim her life once more :) but you’re so right! one of the devastating things about caring for a loved one w dementia is weighing the white lies vs the potential distress over relaying the truth…having grace w oneself is def so important

LOL ya i think he would be so down too 😂 it’s funny cause like? reader? girl? i mean you’re already stressed tf out why not at least get eaten out on a regular basis while you’re at it LOL (the time will come)

ouuu i’m so happy you enjoyed the chapter n thanks so much for interacting so meaningfully w it 🥺 a lot of stuffs u touched on in this ask are elaborated much further in what i have planned for series so i’m so excited to bring that to you!! much loveee (and yes the wedding ring fitting was literally a sign from god LOL)

[lovingdabeessss]

WARNING: R A M B L E

AAAAA LITERARY ALLUSIONS AAAAA

I love Rwby it’s all immediately that deep with the character- like- LISTEN they take intentional simple good/bad characters fair tales which are THE simplest because it’s being told to children and then they make them complicated!!! They make them multiple things

Blake- everyone knows Blake’s everyone loves Blake’s I mean it’s wonderful beauty and the beast where she’s both of them already good already great but then!!! But then it also!!! makes a DIFFERENT CHARACTER also both beauty and the beast which also goes into their other dynamic of yin and Yang and transformation into the other and the constant switching and it makes it like symbolically Yang is a part of her it’s so good she’s the only one who’s a love story she’s defined by the people she loves it’s great

Weiss, she’s always great never disappoints she’s a knight and a princess she’s Snow White which Rwby recognizes as less of a love story and more of a story about parental abuse and overcoming it and never once is it Snow Whites fault the evil queen is acting like that she just is too pretty which Weiss is so it’s perfect for her i truly love “what if Snow White was a middle child” never stop Rwby

Then RUBY I love her she’s red riding hood and the HUNTSMAN makes the “are you a huntress” a little funnier to me cause it’s the core of her character just a little girl trying to do a sweet thing until she is TRICKED AND EATEN BY THE BAD GUY

she’s never not devoured in the story she goes to see her grandmother and they are both eaten and then saved because the huntsman cuts the wolf up it’s truly horrible she never gets saved beforehand and this I think is very well shown in volume 9 where she has to be totally destroyed by the wolf which in this specific instance was just her own grief and guilt (and the cat the cat was also wolf) and then she cut herself out of the stomach of the beast (and attacked the cat that too)

And finally in no particular order YANG my beloved she’s so great

Yangs particularly interesting because she’s the only one of them to be both the hero and the villain of the story and in Goldilocks that villain changes often the villain is the little girl for breaking into the bears house and other times it’s the bears

In some versions when they catch her the bears attempt to burn her (which doesn’t work quite right) drown her (not right either) and then finally MAIM HER BY STABBING HER WITH A CHURCH CHAPLE!??!?!?

She is also the only character in her story it’s Goldilocks and the three bears, she is the only one in this story and all the story is that she will destroy herself

And it’s so interesting that the child is the villain of the story it reminds me of when she was talking about Alice saying she was a bad person when she was just a kid trying to survive

And being the only character and her self destruction in her loneliness like when she lost her arm and no one was around and she just deteriorated

She’s destroying herself she’s so desperate to protect people she’s determined to go out saving someone Yang is a huntress who watched her entire family be destroyed by the job she went into this expecting it to kill her she went into this hoping it would kill her not Ruby

[iamleesi]

THE HUNTERS & THE SOLDIER

Pairing: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x OC! Avenger Reader

Summary: Bucky’s being an idiot once again and you meet someone… quite interesting? Or creepy? You decide. Also a surprise in the end simply because I can.

Warnings: Alcohol, bit of angst (?), gun, annoying lady, allusion to s3x if you squint, mention of Hydra and being watched/ followed -> 18+!!

Other: Forgive me for eventual mistakes but I wrote this in 3 days and I changed my mind about 60 times

-> Masterlist

-> Part twelve ; part fourteen

-> Devil On Your Shoulder (13)

The ticking of the living room clock was the only sound filling the space around you, each second’s click made you lose your hope about Bucky’s return. Hours had passed since Cassandra had knocked at your door and Bucky had stormed out of the house. Sam and Dean had completely disappeared as well - not that you made any efforts in contacting those two, you anger towards them was still very much present - leaving you all alone with the girl.

You hadn’t spoken much to her due to the fear of stressing her out more than she already was; instead, you opted to let her rest in your bedroom for the night, saving the questions for tomorrow.

You had searched the whole neighborhood for Bucky, checking nearby parks or public places he could be at but there was no sign of him, not even his shadow. It was as if he had vanished. In moments like these, you hated to admit how worried sick you were for his safety, knowing Hydra had their eyes on him. If he were to fall into their hands once again because you couldn’t find him, you’d never forgive yourself.

Hours later, that fear consumed your thoughts. You hadn’t eaten anything all day - the scrambled eggs Bucky had made for breakfast were given to Cassandra since she needed it more than you. But you, honestly, weren’t hungry anyway, especially not when Bucky’s phone went straight to voicemail every time you called.

Your attention was caught by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, and you turned your head slightly around to see Cassandra coming your way. She was now dressed with some new, clean clothes you had given her, and she seemed to be feeling way better than before.

“Hey.” You tiredly said, as she sat beside you. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“Couldn’t find sleep.” She made a small smile your way, resting her feet on the couch to wrap her arms around her knees. “I’m sorry for earlier.” She mumbled. “I’m sure he’ll be back.”

You looked at her and shook your head at her apologetic tone of voice. “It’s okay, it’s a sensitive topic for him. It’s… I don’t know why he doesn’t pick up the phone.”

Your nervousness intensified once you spoke, voicing your thoughts was like confirming your worries. You began to play with the golden ring on your finger trying to get your mind off of it, but unlike other times it did nothing to ease the growing anxiety gnawing at you. He had specifically told you to call him once Cassie had calmed down, and you did, but he ignored you.

And, to be completely honest here, being ignored was the best case scenario your brain could think of.

Cassandra’s voice brought you back to the present. “Do you want me to help search for him? I’m sure he’s not far away, and I know the city.” She offered kindly, worry evident in her tone. Her guilt over what she said was as clear as a day.

“No, no.” You waved her off gently. “You need to rest, so feel free to go to bed. I think I’ll go for a walk to clear my head.” The last thing you wanted was to drag her into your tunnel of worries - not just for Bucky, but for the entire situation. She was still a missing girl and she needed to stay inside in order for no one to find her, so letting her out of the house was out of the equation.

Also, she was the goddamn key to solve the case and she was sitting right beside you while three out of four people working on the case were men (as if that was unfortunate enough) that couldn’t set their priorities straight. There were people that needed to be found, like Fury and Maria, others who needed to be captured - and yet, there you were, all alone.

“Are you sure?” She pressed, her brow furrowing with worry. “I don’t mind staying up with you if it’s going to help. I mean… you’re here because of me. It’s the least I can do.”

You managed to give her a small, grateful smile. “I appreciate it, Cassie, but none of this is your fault. There’s no need for you to worry or stress over it. Get some rest, I’ll see you in the morning.” You hoped the assurance in your voice was convincing.

Cassandra hesitated for a moment, clearly torn between wanting to help and follow your advice. Eventually, much to your relief, she nodded. “Alright, but if you need anything don’t hesitate to wake me up.”

“I won’t.” You promised, knowing you’d never wake her up in any case. “Also the house is secure. No one can get in without a key, so you’ll be fine.” You reassured her, watching as she stood up, nodded at you, and headed back back towards the stairs.

Once she was out of sight, you finally let out a deep sigh and looked around the dimly lit room. You forced yourself to get up, knowing that sitting around doing nothing only worsened your mood. Especially seeing your phone screen remain dark without a single message back from Bucky added fuel to the fire.

Grabbing your coat from the armchair, your slipped it on and headed towards the door, locking it securely behind you as you stepped onto the street.

It was probably all the emotions you were feeling at the moment, but for some reason you couldn’t quite understand why the atmosphere felt different that night. It was as if the air stood still, and you sensed presences that weren’t even there.

The streets were empty so you must have had imagined it, the only sound being your footsteps on the wet crosswalk. You double checked behind you to ensure your were alone and, in fact, there was absolutely no soul around. Even the neighbor’s dog was oddly quiet since the animal seemed to be possessed at each hour of the fucking night, but the owners left the poor creature outside alone the whole time so it wasn’t really the dog’s fault.

However, feeling watched or not, you needed to have a proper walk and get your mind off of those three stupid ass men for one night. You could almost excuse Bucky’s behavior initially; seeing the hurt on his face was enough to understand what had come over him. Even if you weren’t close to him, living in the same building for so long meant you knew that being seen as a murder was a trigger for him. You didn’t want to hold him accountable for how he reacted to those accusations, it was his own way to deal with it.

What you couldn’t tolerate was that, if he was still out there somewhere, he hadn’t bothered to let you know he was okay or to check how things ended with Sam and Dean. Especially after hearing how they had kept Cassie locked up for a whole day.

Lost in thought, you almost collided with a stranger who stood directly in your path, making no effort to move even as you took a few steps back.

Your already sour mood darkened further, aggravated by his presence and the small, annoying grin on his face. He appeared to be in his late forties, dressed entirely in black. The streetlight above his head flickered intermittently, unlike the others that worked perfectly.

“I need to go that way.” You said, pointing to the street behind him, as he blocked your path.

He stared into your eyes for what seemed like an eternity before finally stepping aside, extending a hand in the direction you were headed. “Forgive me, kid, didn’t mean to startle you.”

His voice was smooth, but carried an unsettling undertone that you couldn’t ignore. You shot him a glare as you reluctantly walked past him, your eyes not leaving his for the slightest second - you didn’t like this man. He gave off weird vibes, way too familiar vibes, and you didn’t like that.

“You didn’t startle me.” You mumbled. “Maybe just don’t stand in the middle of the crosswalk.”

“I’ll make sure to follow your advice from now on.” The man answered with a sarcastic tone, giving you one last glance before turning around to walk away. “Have the sweetest night, kid.”

You stood there for a moment, watching his short figure disappear around a corner. The nickname he used left a bittersweet taste in your mouth, but you didn’t think much of it as you turned back around to continue your night walk.

You didn’t have a place in mind, the cold air hitting your skin was just a way to cool you off - it was a nice, relaxing feeling for you. Even with that, your mind immediately drifted back to Bucky, Sam and Dean; if you survived this, you’d fight to be paired up with women in the future missions because you had had enough. And it had barely been a week.

You tried to focus on the rhythm of your steps and the crisp night air, which gradually started to finally calm you down. You didn’t know how long you had been walking when, at some point, you arrived near the center of the city, which was far more crowded than the area where you lived. Deciding it was about time to get back, you turned around - or almost.

“I don’t think that’s the right direction.”

A voice made you stop dead in your tacks, and you looked ahead only to see the same man from earlier, throwing something heavy into a nearby dumpster. He smacked his hands together to remove some dirt before slipping them into his pockets, walking towards you with that same small grin you had seen before.

He stopped right in front of you, and all your efforts to dissolve the anger you had built up during the day vanished in a mere instant. Great.

Why this mad had such an effect on you, you didn’t know.

“Excuse me?” You raised an eyebrow, which only made his grin wider.

“I said, you were going in the wrong direction.” He repeated, his voice tinged with mockery. He pointed behind his shoulders, as he spoke again. “You need to go that way, he’s having fun over there. You don’t want him to blew the mission, do you?”

“I have dealt with crazy fuckers like you before, alright? Leave me alone.” You shoved him off, turning your back to head back home. Or, at least, that was your intention.

“I see your attitude hasn’t changed in these last ten years. I thought you’d get nicer with age, but I’m glad to know I was wrong.” He called after you, making your freeze for a second. “Has no one ever taught you that it’s best to be nice to strangers?”

You turned back around, studying his expression because he sure as hell got your attention with that. He seemed to be lucid and collected, making you reconsider in an instant your initial thoughts of him as just another street creep. After all, you had encountered way too many in your life.

“What did you just say?” You said, your voice laced with suspicion.

He took a step closer, still grinning. “Ten whole years. I must admit, I never thought you’d get paired up with the Winchesters. But they go wherever trouble is, so I had to see it coming at some point; my bad.” He raised his hands in surrender before continuing. “But as I was saying, I’m happy to see you haven’t changed. Still so quick to judge, so quick to dismiss and so, so slow when it comes to understand who you can trust and who you can’t. You even got a name now, don’t you, my dear Emma?”

Your mind started to race the second you heard your name fall from his mouth with such normalcy. You were transported back to ten years ago, back to the time you were still with Hydra, to try and remember who he was. But everything was blank, you were sure you had never seen this man before; and there he was, talking to you as if you were his long-lost something.

“How do you know my name?” You demanded, keeping your voice steady. You were an Avenger, sure, but due to your request your face was not allowed to be published - therefore, nobody outside of your friends or some of the people you worked with knew who you were.

He tilted his head, his grin widening. “Oh, I know a lot more about you than just your name, dear. I’ve been watching you for a long time, not that you could have known. It’s fascinating how you’ve grown, how you’ve changed… yet some things remained the same.”

“What do you want?”

“Me? Oh, nothing.” He shrugged. “Believe it or not, I’m on your side. All this… trying to solve creepy mysteries with your gang like some sort of Scooby Doo in real life is quite exciting, but I need you to solve this case quickly because I’m getting tired of you all dancing around it.”

“Do I even know you?!” You asked, as this man was making less sense each passing second.

“No, silly.” His tone was condescending. “So don’t strain your little brain.” He waved a hand in front of your face. “I never bothered to meet you personally, I had more important things to do like…” He trailer off, trying to find the words. “Nothing really, but I’ve been watching you. And let me tell you, that little stunt you pulled when you let that friend of yours escape… what was her name? You used to call her something like Naomi or something?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You lied, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Nonie.” He smirked, knowing he had your full attention. “Yes, that’s right, because she was anonymous. Brave of you, really, but also quite foolish. She stayed for you, you know? Even after you freed her; she stayed around in the woods and brought John Winchester straight to you, so that he could save you. And what did she get in the end? She was burned alive.”

Your breath caught in your lungs at his words, confirming that the man in front of you wasn’t just some crazy idiot on the streets harassing women. He knew about Nonie, a secret you always kept for yourself (one of the many) and that meant he knew far more than what you were comfortable with. And you still had no idea of who he was or where he came from.

The pain of his revelation hit you like a punch to the gut. Not that you had ever held out much hope for Nonie, considering she had been turned into a Wendigo, but you had convinced yourself to believe that perhaps, somehow, she found some form of peace. Hearing that she was dead, though, was like a knife to the heart. She had been your first and only friend, or the closest thing you had to one, for most of your life.

“What do you want from me?“

“Your loyalty.” He answered, the serious you had seen him all night.

You let out an honest chuckled at that, which only made him roll his eyes. “You want me to be loyal to you? I only just met you and, frankly, you’re not exactly making a great first impression.”

He smirked, unfazed by your sarcasm. “I don’t need to make a good impression, my dear, I just need you to understand that we can help each other. We can make a deal, right here and right now, and I’ll explain everything to you. Starting with the truth about Ella White.”

You hated to admit that you took a moment to consider his offer, truly, the second he mentioned that woman. He did seem to know a lot of things, but you didn’t know him and you didn’t trust him. “Listen, not trying to sound rude here, but get lost.” You finally said him, even if a part of you was burning to know what he was talking about. “You’ve been creepy this whole time saying that you watched me when I was younger and now you want to be buddies?” You raised a brow at his nonsense.

“Not buddies, partners. You know, work together, be a team.” He clarified. “You don’t even know how many things we can accomplish together, we’d have everyone at our feet - do you not want that? Imagine, just imagine, how it could be like to rule the living and the dead.” His green eyes were locked into you as he talked, getting close to you.

“You sound like a dictator. I hate dictators.” You answered. “And if you don’t leave me alone I’ll put a bullet right between your eyebrows.”

He laughed at what you said, and your crossed your arms under your chest quite offended. “You’re funny, girl, I’ll give you that. But if you want to kill me, I think a simple gun won’t do it. It’s not your lucky day.” He said, faking an apologetic tone.

“You haven’t told me your name yet.”

“It’s not important.” He replied dismissively. “I’ll give you time to think about my offer, kid.” With a casual shrug, he began to walk past you.

Your eyes refused to leave his figure, and you were conflicted whether to follow him or not. Not because you wanted to accept his weird offer, but because he was clearly involved somehow and letting him go didn’t seem like the smartest choice. But you had a feeling that your paths would cross again.

“I already said no.” You called after him, raising your voice slightly.

He paused, turning his head slightly to glance back at you. “Go ask Dean Winchester why he agreed to work on this case.” He said cryptically. “And then you might change your mind, I’ll make sure to be there when you do.”

You furrowed your brows, puzzled by his words - but even what he said earlier didn’t make more sense than that. What did Dean have anything to do with this? And why was this stranger so confident that you would eventually change your mind? Sure, Dean hadn’t been exactly the most cooperative person in the last couple of days, but he was making it look as if you couldn’t trust him.

“And before I forget,” He added suddenly. “You might want to go take a look at the bar down the road, see if you can find something interesting, take it as a little help from me.” With that, he turned and walked away. You swore that he vanished as soon as you blinked, but that was impossible… wasn’t it?

Your feet moved before your brain could properly process his words, and you started to head towards the place he told you to go to. It’s true you didn’t have positive vibes regarding that man whose name you didn’t know, but so far he only said things you knew were real, more or less, so you thought it wasn’t a bad idea to go see for yourself what he was referring to.

You hurried down the streets, the sounds of laughter and clicking glasses growing louder as you approached. Hesitating at the entrance, you took a deep breath before pushing the wooden door open, the little bell above it chiming softly. The noise went unnoticed by most of the people in there, except two men who glanced your way and left the second you entered.

The smell of alcohol and smoke was thick, but you ignored it as you scanned the room. No familiar faces met your gaze, and some doubts began to creep in. Perhaps the most logical reason was that the stranger had been toying with you all along. You shook your head, feeling foolish for trusting him even for a moment. Turning to leave, you prepared to step back into the street hoping to not meet any other idiot that was going to mess with your ideas.

Except that then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar face sitting alone in the farthest corner of the room.

Bucky Barnes. He was hunched over a drink, his eyes low as he watched the liquid twirl before taking a sip of it. Relief washed over you upon seeing that he was unharmed, but it was quickly replaced by that very same anger you had for the whole day. He had left you worried this whole time while he was there, drinking his problems away - and he didn’t have the excuse of being drunk because you knew it was physically impossible for him to be.

You weaved your way through the crowded bar, your eyes firm on him. With each step closer he seemed to feel your presence, as he looked up from his glass his eyes found yours in no time. His posture visibly stiffened and a flicker of surprise crossed his face as you dropped into the chair across from him, not so kindly.

“Nice to see you too.” He muttered, barely glancing up.

“You left me worried sick.” You snapped, your voice low but intense in order not to have people overhear the conversation. “I called and texted thinking the worst had happened and you were here drinking? What the fuck is your problem?”

“I needed some time alone, alright?” He said dismissively, taking another sip.

“Time alone?” You scoffed. “You could have at least let me know you were okay, for fuck’s sake. Cassandra said some hurtful things while, mind you, she was scared for her life and you disappeared for hours? We have a damn case to solve, Bucky, people are counting on us.”

He shrugged, still not meeting your eyes. “Believe it or not, I have been working. Didn’t think it mattered whether you knew or not.”

“Didn’t think it-” You cut yourself off, pinching the bridge of your nose. “We’re a team, Bucky. When one of us bails, if affects everyone. We lost a day because apparently I’m paired up with people that run away when things aren’t convenient anymore.”

“How did you even find me?” He tilted his head, ignoring your outburst. “You have the worst sense of orientation I’ve ever seen. Didn’t know you knew the city.”

“I don’t, a man told me where you were.”

“A man?” He raised a brow, his skepticism evident. “You made new friends already? That’s great, honey. Socializing is good for you.”

You blinked a few times, taken aback at his nonchalance. You had just told him that a stranger had essentially been following him, and that was his reaction? His dismissive attitude left your dumbfounded to say the least.

“You’re getting on my nerves.” You said, your patience wearing thin. Not that it was great before.

“Do you know how to get back home?” He asked, not even being fazed by what you said.

“Yes.” You responded, barely masking your irritation.

“Then go.” He said, waving you off. “I’ll get back later.”

He glanced to his left, and your eyes followed his gaze. You immediately understood the reason behind his attitude, and you were not happy in the slightest about it. Dalia emerged from the bathroom, heading straight to your table.

Now that you looked down, you noticed two glasses of whiskey instead of one, and one of them had lipstick mark on it. Of course, that made sense.

“Harry.” She said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Didn’t know your wife was going to join us tonight.” Her fake smile grated on your nerves.

“She was just about to leave, actually.” Bucky said, giving you a look that clearly said, ‘do as I say.’ “Isn’t that right, honey?”

You felt a surge of anger at his blatant disregard, clenching your jaw at the way he was acting and at the way she was smirking. “Sure.” You replied sarcastically, standing up. “After all, I wouldn’t want to ruin the night.”

Dalia’s smirk widened as she slid into your seat not even a second after you moved, not hiding the fact she was happy you would leave. “So nice of you, Jade. You know, me and your husband have a lot in common, I might steal him from you.” She chuckled at her own words.

You narrowed your eyes at Dalia’s taunting remark, her words grating on your last nerve. “Ah, good luck with that.” You retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure you’ll have a blast with his mood changes.”

Bucky shot you a glare, but you ignored it. “Sweetheart.” He said, the nickname anything but sweet. “Get home safe, I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, I promise I’ll be nice to him.” Dalia chimed in, leaning back on the chair. “Or not.” She added, winking at him.

You gritted your teeth, struggling to maintain your composure at her clearly flirting with your fake husband. “Have fun.” You simply muttered out, noticing how Bucky stopped meeting your gaze a while ago - instead, he was looking at his empty glass of whiskey.

“We will.” She said, waving at you with that annoying smile on her face.

You turned on your heel and headed towards the door, ignoring the tension in the air behind you. As you stepped out, into the cool night air, a mixture of frustration and hurt made their way in your stomach. You didn’t know why you were feeling so pissed at her being there with him, but you imagined it was because he had been doing God knows what all day with the neighbor’s daughter when you had a fucking case to solve.

Pushing aside your emotions, you finally walked back home hoping to remember the way to go there, walking quickly to put as much distance as you could between yourself and the scene inside the bar.

To think you were actually starting to like the guy now that your issues were kind of solved, but maybe Bucky wasn’t really the right person you wanted as a friend if he was willing to jeopardize the mission for a woman he met a few days ago.

You finally arrived home, the exhaustion weighing heavy on your shoulder as you shut close the door behind you. Tossing your coat onto the couch still completely in the dark, since you were too drained to bother with the lights, all you craved was a shower and some sleep due to the late hour and the events of the day. However, it seemed that fate had other plans.

As you made your way towards the stairs, the doorbell pierced the silence. With a scoff, you retraced your steps and swung the the door open, only to be met with the sight of the infuriating man in black, his grin widening at the sight of your irritation.

“I told you he was having fun.” He remarked, relishing in your obvious displeasure. “Did I not?”

“More than me for sure.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, well… men are weak. Give them a beautiful woman and they’ll forget about their duties. If you need help, real help with this case, I’m offering it. You just need to say yes.”

“No.” You said again, firmly.

“You’re as stubborn as your mother.”

Your heart stopped at that. “My- my what?”

“Mother.” He repeated casually as if dropping that bombshell on you was just another walk in the park for him. “What? Did you think you popped out of nowhere?” He grinned, using the knowledge he had about your past - past you didn’t even know - to manipulate you into joining him.

You struggled to find the right words to respond, but your brain couldn’t process anything concrete.

“Oh, I’ve got your attention for real now, don’t I? Little Emma wants to know about her mother more than you want help for this case. Selfish, I love it.”

You met his gaze with steely silence, refusing to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging he was right. He had been right the whole time, if we want to be honest, and in the back of your mind you kept thinking about his words as if there was a little devil on your shoulder that was telling you to listen to him. It was clear now that he knew how to find you, who you were and what you wanted… which wasn’t really great news.

You simply shut the door on his face, and you hoped for a moment of peace - but even that was short lived. The doorbell chimed once more, prompting you to hurry back, only this time you had your gun in hand, ready to get rid of the stranger once and for all.

As you opened the door again with your finger firmly on the trigger, you quickly realized that there was no need to use violence that time. Instead, you lowered your hand with clear surprise and relief on your face, your expression softening as you took the unexpected sight before you.

“Woah, calm down.” A familiar voice remarked, her eyebrows raised at your defensive stance. “A bit on edge, are we? Let me in and explain everything, I’m here to help.”

“Natasha.” You greeted, moving aside to let her in.

Finally someone who didn’t get on your nerves.

[lonewolfel]

God Games: Underworld Edition

This comes from an AU where Eurylochus is given the choice between Odysseus's life or his own and the crews lives. Eurylochus choses the crew.

Inspired by @theultimatenonbinarynerd ask.

[Athena]

Uncle, Dread King

I know the rules of death

Yet, I'm knocking on your door

With hopes to save a friendship with one who you host in your great halls

Odysseus

[Hades]

Divine intervention, is that what you seek?

To undo the death your father placed on that Greek?

You are playing with fate for a man full of guilt,

But if he's worth the risk, perhaps you could get his soul.

Convince each of them the he ought to live, and he is free to go

[Athena]

Who's them?

[Hades]

Charon, Hecate, Thanatos, Styx, Persephone, and the Moirai

What do you say?

[Charon]

Great

[Hecate]

Very well

[Thanatos]

Eh

[Styx]

Alright

[Persephone]

Groovy

[The Moirai nod their heads]

[Athena]

Bring it

[Shades]

Charon!

[Charon]

You all know I'm the ferry man of shades

So many of his crew gone, yet I couldn't ferry them

[Athena]

There were no bodies to bury,

Many eaten or lost to the ocean depths.

If you let him return he will honor

Them so they can ride on your boat.

[Charon]

If that's true, let him live

[Shades]

Hecate!

[Hecate]

Why should I aid him when he

Threatens one of my witches. Turned

Our own power against us.

[Athena]

Did you forget Circe turned his men

To pigs? That the Molly was a gift

From Hermes? He only used it so

He could free his men. Circe even helped him.

[Hecate]

Very well, let him live

[Shades]

Thanatos

[Thanatos]

Mortals only get one chance, and you

Know how much I hate cheaters.

Why should Odysseus get another?

[Athena]

He didn't get a choice

[Thanatos]

Mortals never really get a choice

He's just like any other mortal. Let him remain.

[Athena activating Quick Thought]

Wait, please reconsider this

[Styx invading Athena's Quick Thought with her Consuming Hate]

Really Athena? Cheating are we?

[Athena]

Styx!

[Shades]

Styx, Styx

[Styx]

Tell me little goddess,

Why should a liar get to

live again when so many

honest men have to remain?

He said he'll get his men

Home and yet the majority of his men ended up

Dead. Odysseus known no

Honesty just like you.

[Athena]

Hold your tongue, you

know nothing of what

you speak. Death, Odysseus's no Sisyphus.

You want the truth, Styx?

His men betrayed

Him. Why should he be honest when no

Man near him is?

[Thanatos & Styx]

Ugh, let him live

[Persephone]

Hey, girl

[Ensemble]

Persephone!

[Persephone]

So many heroes

Or so they say

They all come here to rest so why should yours return

[Athena]

He’s got the mind of a genius

[Persephone]

So what,

He's just another conquerer

And killer. Why should I aid him?

[Athena]

It's all my fault

I'm the one who turned him into a monster.

[Persephone]

Release him

[The Moirai]

Tell us little Olympian, you're a

Fan of weaving

[Atropos]

Why would you change

The design just because

You feel guilt for one of the strings?

[Clotho]

All lives are entwined. To change one

Strings length you will change all.

Why should we let you change ours?

[Athena]

It wasn't his time.

[Atropos]

Perhaps but fate changes.

Only one of the crew can arrive to Ithaca.

[Lachesis]

Once it was Odysseus

Now it is Eurylochus.

[Clotho]

Not even your father can change this,

Little Goddess.

[Athena]

What if Eurylochus dies?

Then will you allow me Odysseus's shade?

[The Moirai]

Bring us Eurylochus

Before he steps onto

Ithacan soil and Odysseus

May live again.

[Hades]

You have your answer, niece.

Now leave.

I hope you guys enjoyed it. I tried to keep it in neat with song but I'm not a singer so it was hard. The Moirai part was difficult just because most of them don't have corresponding lyrics.

[mel0njooce]

i always wonder how different dungeon meshi would be if it leaned into horror.

laios, hanging from the red dragon’s mouth, has to deal with the fact he might be killed by the same monster that ate his sister. he grunts and he yells and tears pool at his eyes from the amount of pain he’s feeling. and for a second laios loses hope. he remembers how scared and panicked falin looked. her eyes were wide, her blood stained the dragon’s teeth — blood that was supposed to be his. maybe if this were a different anime laios would instinctively cover his ears to stop the ringing that were falin’s screams. he remembers her shaking hand, no, her shaking body. how her staff threatened to slip out yet she held on tightly. and the next thing he knew he was on the surface. of course remembering this he has a second wind and still kills the dragon and marcille is able to reattach the part of his leg he lost, but he knows it’s not going to be the same. sometimes if laois runs on it wrong or if his party explores without taking a break for too long, there’s a pain in his leg he’ll never be able to fix. it’s a constant reminder of his win but laios doesn’t remember it as that. he remembers falin. he remembers how he should’ve been the one to get eaten. and maybe laios isn’t able to sleep as easily knowing it should’ve been him.

marcille nearly pukes at the sight of falin’s staff covered in blood. she feels bile form in the back of her throat when laios recovers a human skull from the dragons stomach. marcille doesn’t even notice her hands are shaking until senshi grabs one of them, rubbing his calloused thumb over her knuckles. marcille internally apologizes to senshi with what she’s about to suggest, knowing full well he’ll be disappointed but marcille can’t seem to care. she doesn’t care she has to use ancient magic deemed to be wrong, she doesn’t care about how senshi and chilchuck might never look at her the same, and she doesn’t care about any repercussions on her body. she just wants falin. so after hours of putting falin’s skeleton back together with bloody bones and even bloodier hands, she’s ready. the previous cut on her hand stings but frankly she can’t feel it. the only thing she can feel is how close falin is. and maybe close is an overstatement. marcille grips onto ambrosia until its wood finds splinters in her skin and her head starts to spin with how much of her blood she’s losing to make the circle work. but she keeps chanting. marcille can’t afford to forget. she feels herself falling in and out of consciousness. her vision is blurry and her head starts to feel heavier but she only holds ambrosia tighter. until she can’t.

the last thing falin remembers is… is… actually she doesn’t remember. but she can feel. falin can feel the blood pooling in her lungs. a hand rests on her back as she throws up cough after cough of blood. falin still can’t remember. why was she slick with blood? why was her brother so cold? why is marcille crying in her arms? a shiver crawls up her spine when she looks down. her eyes shift to the cut on marcille’s palm and the circle she’s surrounded by. falin’s body aches with feeling and she doesn’t know if the cold stone under her is a blessing or a curse. she glances at how her friends are covered in blood. was it her blood they were covered in? guilt snakes it’s way into falin’s brain. chilchuck’s hands were stained red. a man she’s never met had bloodied hands and a hint of red in his beard. her brother’s arms were almost fully covered in dark red. and marcille. oh, marcille. falin didn’t know where her blood stopped and marcille’s blood began. her friends looked like they went to hell and back and yet, she was only met with smiles.

really hope trigger makes season two terrifying, if not maybe at least a little more scary