#nexus x reader

[tsbs-shipfessions]

no matter what happens to nexus in canon, i will always love them and want to Kiss that beautiful face of theirs in my own worlds. they aint deserve what they got </3

...The fact that this ask was queued today at this time feels like a bitter form of fate.

For those who (somehow) don't know yet, Nexus died in today's episode.

They really didn't deserve what they got in life. They deserved so much better, both my mod and I agree. ((but then again Sol's kinda forced to agree cause i'm his mod lmaooo))

Continue kissing that beautiful face of theirs, Anon. And have fun doing it, too. They deserve it after dying like that. Slow and painful. It hurt.

[nowheregoat]

When your crush employer goes on their "last" mission

[ddarker-dreams]

Epilogue.

Yandere Blade x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, codependency, Blade's love language is committing murder for you. Word count: 1.5k.

Nexus index.

“You went overboard.”

Blade doesn’t respond.

You know he heard you. He’s lucid enough to comprehend your words, but that doesn’t mean he’ll acknowledge them. Not when he’s standing there, parsing through his frenetic thoughts, which must feel more like a distant dream than reality. This is how you’ve come to understand his mara. It’s a capricious affliction, despite how adept you’ve become at soothing it.

This burden isn’t yours alone to bear. Blade has his part to play. He has to at least, on some level, want to ward off the beckoning madness. Your psionic abilities lay in amplifying base desires, not writing over them. Usually, this isn’t a problem. Usually, you both prefer he retains control instead of leaving a trail of contorted corpses in his wake.

Today, however, was decidedly unusual.

The nature of your new ‘work’ invites risk. Danger has never been a stranger to you — there was a reason why leaving the LOTUS-EATER’s premises was discouraged. This daunting acquaintance loves seeking you out. The feeling isn’t mutual, regardless of how successful the attempts are. It’s the aftershocks that you dread most. In the moment, everything happens so fast, there’s no time to be afraid until you reflect on it later.

Nona would tell you that what’s done is done, no point in dwelling on it further.

Lear would suggest you exercise more caution in the future, whilst barely being able to hold back tears of relief that it wasn't worse.

They aren’t here, though, you think. I only have him.

You swivel around on the kitchen island’s barstool to examine Blade like he’s examining you. He’s wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist as his clothes were dirtied beyond saving. Water trickles down the contours of his scarred, lithe body. The scent of orange and vanilla wafts in the air beside him, courtesy of the safehouse’s shower, no doubt. You prefer that over the metallic miasma which clung to him previously.

His crimson eyes pierce through the dimly lit room. You can’t decipher his expression, nor do you care to. What matters is that he gives some reassurance there won’t be a repeat of today’s incident. Knowing him, however, that’s too much to ask, but you’re starting to wonder if sweet lies are kinder than the truth.

Blade’s predatory gaze pauses at the fresh bruise on your forearm. What he doesn’t reveal outwardly is more than made up for by the sickening wrath his mind emanates. You wince beneath its intensity, a reaction he ignores, surprisingly, as he’s too focused on the hand-shaped indent. It isn’t until you inhale sharply that he snaps out of his reverie and the pressure in the room lessens.

While you rub your aching temples, he approaches, slinking forward like a stray cat. Though he viciously defends you as a guard dog would, you think he shares more similarities with the feline species. He bristles at anyone’s touch but yours, silently stares until you give him attention, and would gladly lay a pile of his kills at your feet, seeking approval for the macabre offering.

There was a time you’d voice this musing to observe his displeasure.

That time has long since passed.

Blade’s calloused fingertips run over the bruise, light enough to spare you any pain.

“Are there more?” he asks.

“I haven’t checked,” you shift back to rid yourself of his touch. His eyebrows pinch together, forming creases. “Is that really all you have to say?”

He’s glowering now. You don’t know what displeases him more — your avoidance of his touch, irate tone, or the condemnation hitherto left unsaid.

“You would’ve had me show mercy to your attackers?”

Blade enunciates the word mercy with every ounce of contempt one would regard their mortal enemy with. Now you’re beginning to better understand why getting him under control was such an ordeal. You encountered every possible resistance when attempting a link with him, a phenomenon you hadn’t experienced since that fateful day in The Lounge’s private room. He was always so receptive to, well, you, oddly pliant to your whims so long as you framed them right.

“You didn’t need to—” your throat goes dry, as the sights, sounds, and smells from earlier resurface, “—Need to…”

Fucking terrify me.

Sometimes, you forget on purpose.

You forget so you can drunkenly ramble anecdotes about your strangest clients over drinks, let him teach you the steps of weapon forging, and not struggle when he pulls you into his chest at night.

You forget so that your resentment can stay suspended in time, never growing past a point that’d suffocate you.

You forget so you can remember how to live.

Streams of sunlight sneak past the room’s blinds. You reach out, as if to catch it, allowing the beam to settle on your hand. The closest star to this planet — Varsig — is named the Spectator. The planet’s earliest inhabitants once thought the giant orb to be a god’s eye. Following their every movement, scrutinizing their every decision.

In the current year of 2157 AE, few still believe this superstition.

You understand where those ancient civilizations were coming from.

Eris’ eternal night hid wrongdoings behind a silvery veil. Stars, however, ensure you witness everything. Every misstep, shame, and regret is crystal clear. There’s no questioning the integrity of what you see. It burrows into your memory where it intends to remain forevermore. You’re reminded again and again that you’re no longer an Exalted Arbiter, but a means to an end for the universe’s most notorious criminal faction.

Either way, it’s a glorified transfer of ownership.

Still. At least then you had Loopy, Nona, Lear—

“You’re thinking about him.”

You freeze upon hearing his gruff accusation. Swiftly, perhaps suspiciously so, you turn the faucet of your thoughts off. Too much slipped through in your carelessness. Blade might not have your level of experience when it comes to decrypting the minds of others, but he’s spent enough time around you to pick up on a few things. The low-level link you share with him goes both ways, as per that miscreant Kafka’s suggestion.

For the most part, it’s an unobtrusive function that’s no more noticeable than one’s breathing. This prevents the continuous uptime from placing heavy strain on you. Identifying fluctuations in Blade’s mara is its main function. However, if you’re not being vigilant, a few segments from your psyche can pass through to him.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

It’s an unconvincing apology.

His mara, previously satiated from its earlier gorging, rouses. It seeks to form a tribunal with you as the defendant. This disease hates you, worships you, and longs to break you so that it might stitch you up and do it all over again.

Blade shakes his head and sighs.

The mara’s deliberation over your sentencing fades, leaving nothing but uncomfortable silence.

He turns around and starts walking away. Your eyes, ever keen in the dark, trace over the scars that cover his back. The off-color testimonies to his many battles have welcomed a newcomer, inducted into the ranks hours prior. The skin is red and angry. His long hair partially covers it — a slash made from the right side of his back to the lower left.

There’s little you know about combat, but from what you can tell, his opponents were skilled. They moved too fast for you to get an accurate count. In the aftermath, the remains were either butchered beyond recognition, or the few intact limbs so spread out, you couldn’t arrive at a number then either. Blade intercepted every shot and stab intended for you. He parried most, yet some slipped through the cracks. Without a second’s hesitation, he’d shield you from the onslaught, unfazed by what must’ve been excruciating pain.

That undying devotion is yours.

He belongs to you, really. Possibly more than you belong to him. This husk of a man who flayed the flesh of your foes and hung them by their entrails. Only the Aeons above know what other desecrations he committed when your consciousness gave out.

Sometimes, you calm the chaos simmering in his veins.

Other times, you raise it to a rapid boil.

“Yingxing.”

His retreating figure stills. Before, holding the memories of who he once was guaranteed he’d succumb to the mara’s influence. It’s less definitive now. There’s an undeniable intimacy to it — speaking a name scratched from history. He isn’t Yingxing anymore, nor can he ever be again. Somewhere, wedged deep into a forgotten crevice of his psyche, a tiny fragment of that splintered identity slumbers.

You rouse it when you think he needs to remember the anguish of losing everything.

“Do you want to be loved by me?”

You’re plenty capable of feeling love.

You love your student, who wrestled with life to reclaim the joy it previously stole. You love your first friend, who didn’t cower away from the unruly girl who decided to change his name on a whim. On some days, you could even love your mother, if your memories deceived you enough.

What about him, whom you might spend centuries beside?

Can loneliness outweigh resentment?

After what feels like multiple lifetimes, he responds.

“Anything’s enough.”

When he leaves, he takes a part of you with him.

…

You rise from your seat.

[gdbemyfd]

I'm very embarrassed about what I did (I'm talking about the last two drawings now)

ААААААААААААААААААААААААААААААААААААА :(((((

[nevadancitizen]

-> FASCINATION WITH THE ORDINARY

synopsis: your world is vastly different from the nevada native to madness combat. after the main three + 2bdamned get transported to your world, they each find things that fascinate them.

word count: 2.5k

characters: hank, deimos, sanford, 2bdamned, player! reader

trigger warnings: ehh slight yandere/obsession but could also be read as super heavy pining if you're not into that lol

notes: madness combat fandom arise. madness combat fandom come back to me (also set in @/saltymongoose 's self-aware au)

For the sake of consistency, let’s imagine that the Player lives in a big, lonely, woodsy and plain-sy plot of land. There’s little to no outside human interaction, and lots of animals wandering through the area with a river running through it. For the wildlife, I’m basing it on the American South because I’ve lived here my entire life and know how they act.

SUNSETS & SUNRISES

2BDamned would be the most entranced, since he has the most memories from before the fall and before Hank killed the sun. He’s an early riser by nature (since his body has conditioned him so he’s mostly overworked and under-rested, as unhealthy as it is), so he leans more towards the beauty of a sunrise, towards the light that starts to paint the dark sky with hazy orange shades and rosy hues. He likes breathing in the crisp air and the way it almost sends a shock through his lungs.

But the sun stirs a lingering feeling of nostalgia, though, for the way things were before everything fell to madness. Doc tries his best not to let the thoughts get the better of him as you slip through the front door and out onto the front porch, carrying two steaming cups of coffee. 

God, he could imagine staying like this forever: just you, him, a beautiful sunrise, and coffee. Surely the way you pay attention to him, the way you get up extra early to watch the sunrise, the way you doctor his coffee just right – they’re all examples of how you care for him, just as he cares for you. But for now, he’ll just bide his time, blowing the steam off the surface of his coffee and purring, soft and raspy, both at the taste and because of your company.

But that doesn’t stop the others from appreciating the astounding view at dusk, because Sanford and Deimos are more partial to sunsets after long days. They like lounging in the adirondack chairs set up around the fire pit, cracking open a few beers, and simply relaxing with you. (Don’t worry, Sanford will gather firewood and Deimos will set it alight if it’s a little too cold for your taste.)

They’re fresher clones, so they don’t remember the sun well, if at all. They both always go quiet when the sun starts to dip below the horizon. Sanford props his tea sunglasses on top of his head and Deimos sets his cigarette in the ashtray as they both stare at the way the light turns the clouds purple and paints the sky with pink streaks. It stirs something sad in your heart – both of these men are pushing and just over the cusp of thirty, yet they don’t know the simple sweetness of a sunset. 

But as soon as night overtakes the sky, they both turn their attention back to you. Deimos makes some suave comment about your beauty being nothing in the face of a sunset in that rumbling, smooth voice of his, and Sanford gives him a pointed glare. Sanford points out that your beauty and the beauty of nature are two whole different things, but keeps showering you with not-so-inadvertent compliments, leaving you flustered and blushing from both grunt’s words.

Hank is somewhat of an anomaly with this one. All of the grunt’s biological clocks are absolutely porked from their time without a sun, but Hank’s affected the worst by far. (That, and he doesn’t really care for the sun. He literally slaughtered it.) Therefore, he’s more privy to waking up in the middle of the night and dragging you onto the roof to look at the stars. 

He likes laying on his back with you on his chest, pointing out the brightest stars and asking you questions about them. (He doesn’t really care, he just likes hearing your voice.) He loves your vivid descriptions of the constellations and how you describe them in intricate ways. To Hank, they’re just sparkly, unreachable dots in the sky, but it seems like, to you, they’re beautiful: like millions of silver nails driven into a dome of dark blue velvet. 

He savors the moments like these the most, when you’re alone with him. There’s no sound except for the crickets and dog-day cicadas and spring peepers and your voice and Hank’s sputtering purring. Honestly, it’s as it should be – without those other pesky dipshits ruining your time together. (Well, he can tolerate Doc, but that annoying extraction team could go fuck themselves for all he cared.)

ENTERTAINMENT

Sanford hates being lazy. He hates feeling like he’s not doing anything useful, even if he’s being useful by resting. The only real way to make him sit down and stop moving is by trapping him on the couch, laying your head in his lap, and turning on the TV. (Even if, for the first thirty minutes, he’s too focused on you and your body heat and how fast his heart is beating to even consider looking at the TV.)

But the thing he loves watching the most isn’t any sort of movie with amazing cinematography or show with riveting writing – it’s infomercials. Specifically, infomercials from the 90’s to the late 2000’s. He likes seeing what things could’ve been like if there was no madness in Nevada, because things are oddly peaceful (at least, to him) in your world. Billy Mays and Cathy Mitchell make him wonder about domestic life with you (even if the Jupiter Jack and the Xpress Redi-Set-Go are completely obsolete by now), and how these little gadgets would make your life together supposedly go smoother.

He likes combing his claws carefully through your hair as you both watch these people play up how useful these obviously useless inventions are. He tries to avert his eyes and act interested in the TV as you look up at him and point out how the Red Devil Grill was recalled because it got so hot it collapsed and caused fires, but can’t. He just can’t keep his eyes off you when you look up at him so sweetly, and can you blame him? You just make his face so warm and his heart beat so fucking fast…

Deimos has always had a fascination with electronics, but it’s mostly been from a tactical and weaponized standpoint. But he’s discovered (well, really, you introduced him to) video games. He absolutely loves curling up into your side, purring and providing commentary as he watches you play. (Because, despite his trying, he hasn’t really gotten a hang of the controls yet.)

He loves more story-fueled games with characters he can really get attached to. He likes investing himself in things and people that don’t actually affect him, because seeing your favorite character go through dire straits or even die hurts for a little while, but it’s nothing compared to seeing someone get eviscerated right in front of you. And, yeah, he totally cried when Arthur Morgan died (and totally played it up so that you’d comfort him). 

He also likes draping himself over you in the middle of a boss fight, wriggling and nuzzling into your cheek, causing you to giggle, lose focus, and, obviously, die. He strings together half-hearted apologies through his raspy purring, but he’s not really sorry. More deaths means more time spent with him, and internally, he’s completely and honestly unapologetic for his underhanded tactics. 

Due to the nature of his administrative role, Doc spends a lot of time in front of screens. He likes to unplug and unwind by reading, no doubt with a straight-up hazardous amount of coffee by his side. He prefers reading with you with an arm wrapped around your shoulder, whether you’re also reading or working on something else. Though he’s inexperienced (and sometimes even shy) with these types of things, he’s more than happy to ease into affectionate touches and romance that kills his common sense with you. 

His tastes are often cheap, but when he earns enough dough, he likes to splurge on second-hand college anatomy textbooks. No, he’s not planning on going to university, but he wants to know the inner workings of the human system (and, therefore, the inner workings of you). He also likes speculative biology and seeing what humans think about other intelligent species potentially being out there.

He would absolutely be elated (though he tries his best to hide it) if you took his interests seriously and discussed them with him. He tries to keep you in his makeshift office and away from the others so you can continue to spend this precious alone time with him, but that doesn’t stop the red-hot flare of jealousy as one of the others bursts in with a childish ask about something that should be obvious. (Of fucking course you wouldn’t want to go for a walk, Deimos, have you seen the weather out? Leave you and him alone!)

Obviously Hank would love gorefest and splatter film movies because of his all-encompassing and absolute love for carnage, and he’d love them even more if you got scared and hid yourself in his shoulder or chest. It’s clear that he’s your strongest and most capable vessel, so he clearly agrees with your choice to choose him as your protector (even if that choice is based on an instinctive need to hide). 

He also loves WWE and MMA fighting. When given the choice, he opts for MMA because it’s real and bloody and he prefers seeing people push themselves to their absolute limit rather than some predetermined fight that serves a higher storyline. (But, then again, he really likes the clip of Undertaker breaking into Paul Bearer’s house during an interview and throwing a cabinet at him because, what the fuck? He’s never thought of that before! Using things from the environment when out of weapons instead of his fists could be an improvement. Maybe he can learn a thing or two from these fake fighters…)

And, yes, if you give him access to Twitter he will turn your entire timeline into those backyard fight videos and dashcam car crashes. He doesn’t mean to, it just happens.

ANIMALS

Being a natural night owl, Deimos loves keeping a lookout for what critters come out at night. When he’s on the front porch with you, smoking a cigarette and waving away mosquitoes, he makes sure to keep an eye out for weird and unusual wildlife. (While pressed against your side and purring loudly, no doubt.)

He likes watching the whip-poor-wills swoop down and catch the moths that swarm around the overhead porch lights. Yes, he will try to catch one, but backs off when you tell him to. Instead, he opts for digging in the dirt to find beetles and grubs to toss up in the air for the small birds to catch. He will kinda feel bad if the beetles hit the ground but will continue to throw them to the birds when you tell him insects are basically immune to fall damage, so… no harm, no foul.

He’s also absolutely enamored by raccoons. He likes throwing food to them from the safety of the porch and watching them eat with their little grabby hands. He’s very reckless so, despite your warnings, he’ll try to squirrel one away inside the house. (He does this multiple times and, without fail, gets bitten each time. 2B has given him multiple rabies shots after shooing the raccoons out with a broom.)

Speaking of Doc, he enjoys going out in nature and finding decaying things just to see how many buzzards arrive. He excuses it with something about wanting to see if decomposition works the same across both your world and his, but he secretly finds some relation with the birds – something about being deliverers and arbiters and negators of death. (Though the last one really only applies to him.)

He also likes the rare sightings of wild horses. He’ll go out of his way to (carefully, shyly) rouse you from whatever you’re doing to go take a look at the majestic beasts, and he’ll be even more excited if there’s a foal wandering between the stocky legs of the adults. 

He just barely brushes his fingers against yours as you both stand on the edge of the treeline and watch them graze. Seeing the foal break from the herd, kick out and tumble and fall over and immediately get back up sparks… something in his heart. A vision. Just you, just him, linked pinkies, and a future together, with this warm feeling in his chest.

Hank really likes the more dangerous creatures. He gets along well with cottonmouth and other venomous snakes (and “gets along well” really means that they’re mean as can be and strike as often as possible while he just holds them and smiles at you). 

If you don’t keep a close enough eye on him, he’ll wander off and try to provoke larger animals, like bobcats. To him, they’re just tiny little pussycats, even if they pose a real threat and could kill him. Please don’t let him go too far, because if he comes across a bear, he will try to wrestle it, and Doc doesn’t like having to do emergency surgery on the island countertop in your kitchen. 

On multiple occasions, he’s come back to the house after being missing for hours, reeking of skunk spray. He just purrs happily as you tell him to strip and hold still as you spray him down with the hose.

Sanford is way calmer with his interactions with wildlife. He likes sitting on the dock with you and watching the fish swim by (because he’s impressed both by the fish and by the river – he’s never seen water in such great quantity!) Set him up with a hook, lure, and line and he’ll be entertained for hours. Though he struggles a bit with making streamers and fishing knots due to his big hands and claws, he’s more than patient when you teach him (mostly because he gets to spend time with you). 

When he’s fishing, he likes to look around and observe – mostly because fishing is a waiting game. His favorite visitors are herds of whitetail deer, especially when summer is in full swing and the fawns are ready to start exploring. They remind him of his family, mainly because of the way the does don’t really care which fawn is theirs, just that each is getting enough milk. You point at them and discuss them with him in small whispers because you don’t want to spook them. 

Again, it reminds him of his want for a domestic life with you. Just basking in the mottled sun that seeps through the trees, dipping your bare feet in the cool river water as a catfish tugs on the line – it’s all he wants, really. Now if he could just get the rest of the grunts to leave you alone… excluding Deimos, of course.

[miguel-owhora]

its 4 am, almost 5, but i got hit with a vision: tricky would absolutely have public sex with you :3 he does not give a singular fuck if someone is watching, he can and will whip out your dick and ride it until his pussy is overflowing with cum !!!! if anything he gets turned on by others either uncomfortably watching or idk being turned on by it lol

and well, you don't really have to worry about anything when your boyfriend is a psychotic clown, right? mm probably.

anyways, tricky'll also give you head and it's a little scary with his sharp teeth and all, but you trust him not to bite you... will, dick wise. any other part of your body is free game. besides, why would he bite your dick and risk biting it off if he absolutely loves it when you pin him down and fucking breed him for everything he's worth? pinning his legs to his chest, paws up in the air and your silly boyfriend squealing without shame, babbling incoherent praises and begs for more, his pussy puffy and swollen and leaking with cum, your cock molding itself inside his gummy walls.....

[cinnamonpatty]

My Emperor

Little Y/N x Phobos comic cuz I can Still trying to find comfortable way for drawing grunts xP

[abstract-crossverse]

Could you do Phobos x fem!reader headcanons? Pretty please with a cherry and sprinkles on top? 🙏🙏

Weeeell since you asked so nicely… Been a while since I wrote for Phobos lmao, I do love this director, also I'm so sorry I've been away for so long, I got hyperfixated on other things and just been working my life really I got a little carried away… Yall deserve something big for how long I’ve been away lol, enjoy I still don’t know when a name ends in s if I still use ‘s or just ‘ at the end of it when merging “is” to the name…

===================================

Phobos x Fem!Reader // [hc/fic, fluff]

You probably met while you worked as an engineer for Nexus, let's switch things around, I mostly see scientist readers or something, it's not a bad thing but I wanna explore engineers and soldats as well, buckle up

Here’s the thing that I should explain before anything, Nexus Engineers and Soldats are not yellow blooded, those were not made in the labs, alr? These are your everyday Joes who are a little more interesting than your casual grunt with their knowledge, engineers are promoted with their knowledge to fix things and good insight while Soldats are promoted with high combat skills and high ambition, endurance and shit, all of them start as normal agents, got it? Alr lets go

You probably didn't work for anyone in specific, freelancing and fixing anything you could for a quick buck, you had a good reputation as one of the best engineers around Nexus City though. Phobos caught wind of your existence while passing one of your buddies who did work for him, the Soldat was telling their co-workers about your skills and how “you could fix anything you touched”. He's really exaggerating here, but he’s always been supportive of you, we’ll call him…. Tom, for easy reference.

The Director grew skeptical of your skills, it almost sounded too good to be true, and with how highly this mortal was talking about you, you must be good, after all, this was one of his top soldats, he wouldn’t be lying if he knew what was good for him.

“Really? She’s that good?” Phobos’s voice boomed from the door to the break room, many of the grunts flinched and straightened their postures in the Director’s presence, including Tom, who scrambled to turn around — knocking over his chair in the process — singled out as the rest of the room took a step back. The soldat stammered, caught completely off guard by Phobos’s sudden appearance, tensing as the much taller grunt stepped closer.

“Answer me, Soldat, is she as good as you say she is?” He asked with a dangerously calm tone, it was threatening, as if the Soldat said one wrong word he’d be beheaded on the spot, Phobos couldn’t bother to remember his name. 

Tom swallowed the lump in his throat quietly as Phobos towered over him, his glaring red monocle almost casting a red spotlight on his face, he seemed to take a deep breath before answering confidently, “Yes sir, she is the best I’ve seen in a long time.”

One of the engineers scoffed at that, unfortunately just loud enough to make the Director shoot them a glare, making their blood run cold and lower their head in fear. Phobos hummed in acknowledgment, returning to Tom “... very well.” Phobos drew in a breath, “Lucky for her, we are still in need of recruits, especially engineers, so they can help with the machines and whatever else they do around the Tower. You will bring her here tomorrow for an interview, if she’s as good as you say, she will be hired.” with the demand in place, Phobos stood back up to his full height, looking down at Tom as he slightly shook in his boots.

“... and if I don’t..?” 

Phobos’s glare intensified at the question, Soldats always seemed to be curious about the most insignificant things, how dare he question Phobos’ orders. 

“Then I will personally make you an example as to why you shouldn’t lie about someone’s capacities to me.” He finished sharply, turning on his heel and marching out of the room, nearly knocking Tom over with the mere force of him being hit by his cape.

As soon as the employees thought Phobos was out of earshot, he could hear many of them reprimanding Tom for not shutting his mouth when he had the chance, it did make a grin tug at the corner of his lips, thinking the way most just immediately jumped on Tom for being a little too positive about your abilities and being caught was absolutely hilarious. However, if you truly were as good as Tom claimed, then you might just earn your spot in the Tower, yet another stepping stone for his plan of achieving Godhood.

When Tom came to you with the story, you… didn’t exactly know how to feel, flattered Tom spoke so highly of you? Annoyed he dragged you into this situation? Or scared of what Phobos might do to you if you didn’t meet his expectations… Either way, anxiety shot up, you had been questioning whether to apply to Nexus Core though, maybe actually get a full-time job instead of living off freelance, so this was the best time than any other to actually get that job. Or suffer Phobos’s wrath.

You dragged Tom inside your home to explain to you how the machines in Nexus Core looked so you didn’t have any surprises when going over. It was very bare bones; Tom knew nothing of machines aside from basically what they did, but it was enough to help you through and figure it out yourself.

When the next day came, you put on your self-assigned work clothes and got a ride with Tom to the Science Tower, yawning the majority of the way there. Tom had to go in early as shit due to his status, meanwhile, you usually got to sleep in unless you had a job, you weren’t used to the early routine, but nothing a cup of coffee on the way there didn’t fix.

Going through the Tower was long-winded, to say the least, the thing looked bigger on the inside, and the number of floors… Christ, you were starting to reconsider this opportunity on the 10th flight of stairs you had to go through, and you weren't even in the middle of the tower yet. But going around the rooms you normally would’ve never had clearance to as a normal visitor to the museum part of the place was good to know which type of electronics you’d be working with; they seemed… complicated, and it made you nervous.

Tom had been leading you by the hand because he just didn’t want you to get lost, and then get yelled at for it, so before you knew it you were faced with the Director’s entry doors. The guards were cold in their tones, requesting Tom state his business before letting you both through, and honestly, you were not surprised to see how huge the office was, what you didn’t expect though was to see other scientists working around in the same room, just right there next to the Director, you wondered if these were high-rank employees or if this was a way of keeping them under Phobos’s personal surveillance.

The Soldat let go of your hand and gave you a look of reassurance before you both looked at the towering silhouette at the top desk, seeming to admire his city out the window; the scene looked like something almost out of a movie. Tom took a deep breath before marching up to his office, with you following suit, pausing only for a moment to hear the G03LMs announce your approach.

As you approached his desk, he didn’t turn to you both just yet. Glancing at the other two Soldats standing guard to his sides made you double-take; they looked almost exactly like Tom did in uniform, only these guys seemed to have more buttons and pins on their uniforms than Tom did, those must be a bitch to take off every laundry day. Tom cleared his throat lightly before bowing his head to the Director, motioning for you to do the same before speaking.

“Director, I have brought the engineer you requested.” Tom announced almost as if talking to a king. 

Phobos turned from his wide window to look at you both, the light from the dawn outside highlighted very few parts of him; it almost looked like a painting if it didn’t look oddly terrifying. He seemed to take a moment to analyze you before lifting his hand and lowering it a couple of inches down. “At ease, Lieutenant. You too, Engineer.” he boomed, allowing you both to stand straight again. His tone was sharp, but not harsh, simply an order.

Phobos retracted his hand into his cape, you’re not too surprised he actually wears the thing, Tom’s told you about the times he accidentally or intentionally knocked people over with his cape whenever he came around for lunch. 

“I will take it from here, I’d like to get to know our… Possible recruit. Return to your duties, Lieutenant.” he ordered again, your eyebrows furrowed a bit as Tom nodded and spun on his heel, giving you a pat on the shoulder before marching away. Your anxiety spiked as you were left to stare up at Phobos on your own.

Okay, I'm getting too carried away here, let me speed things up a bit.

Phobos gives you an interview himself, normally it would be someone lower in rank due to his schedule being SO busy with paperwork, but again, Tom gloated about you so much he just had to see you with his own eye, completely valid reason, right? Yea, yea sure. Also, escaping from the amount of paperwork from their projects and agreements with other companies was a little nice.

He got your basic info, you answered his questions, that he had written in little slips of paper with basic answers under them he had a handful of the engineers write, he’s by no means a “tech nerd” like you engineers, but he did his best to grab the essential answer from your longer explanations with a smile on your face, you seem to enjoy mechanics, good, the ones with more passion seemed to give better results.

After all of that, he got up from his chair and walked around his desk to you, damn he was far taller than you anticipated. He said he’d give you a tour of the place and have you fix a couple of things with the other engineers, under his monitoring; we don't need you going somewhere you don't need to be, of course.

So the whole day you followed him around, grouped with a couple of random engineers in the facility; you successfully fixed something — which as much as these machines looked complicated they had pretty standard problems to be fixed so far. Around lunchtime, he took you back to his office which was mostly empty aside from some scientists finishing up work before quickly leaving to get their food and finish it within the 2-hour break Phobos gave them, which was surprising, most jobs didn't even give an hour. You may have off-mindedly muttered about that being nice, Phobos, seeing it as an opportunity to make a better impression and gloat a bit, claimed it was because he understands how huge and time-consuming getting up and down the tower to the food court and back was, plus, he enjoyed the time to himself that the break gave.

One long and unnecessary speech about how great of an asset you’ll make to Nexus Core, how he sees great potential in you, and how he can see you climbing the ranks quickly later… You're hired! Congrats, you work for the minion look-alike now. Yippee.mp3. He gave you a handshake, let you know where you could get the proper uniform for your work, and set you free to go home, saying you’d start that next Monday. Telling the good(?) news to Tom on your way out, he took you out for a celebratory lunch at your favorite place. At least he was happy you’d get to see each other more often; work always got in the way of your hangouts.

Either way, working at the Tower isn’t as bad as you thought it would be, most of the time at least; you got to know a couple of Tom’s other friends and co-workers around your first day, setting you up with one of his most “trustworthy” engineer friend. Much to their dismay, Tom begged them to babysit you until you got the hang of things in return for like… 5 favors he’d owe them in return. We’ll call this one Kai. 

Kai did as promised, giving you a more in-depth rundown of how certain machines worked and what their most common problems to fix were just to give you a heads up, claiming they were feeling generous enough to let you know. Allowing you to take the lead in fixing some of these machines similar to how Phobos did in your interview, quizzing you from time to time on the machines, what they did, or how to fix a certain problem.

As much as they were incredibly monotonous in their voice, you could tell they were just as passionate about mechanics as you were.

Something you did notice throughout the day, however, was that the Director himself was around very often.

“Yep, that’s correct once again, great job [Name].” Kai gave you a tired nod and praise as you answered their question about the cloner in front of you correctly, glad you were paying attention to their ramblings about the machine earlier. You smiled at them behind your mask, hoping they saw how your eyes squinted to know so before they began to speak again.

“Now, this one has been having some problems with faulty wiring, I’ll fix this once since this equipment is so delicate, but I need you to watch and learn how it’s fixed so you-” Their thought process was interrupted halfway through unscrewing the machine’s control panel, raising their head and looking into space for a moment before looking at the doors to the room expectantly, cycling through every couple seconds, did they hear something? You mostly just heard the beeps and scribbles from the machines and the scientists, though… you felt some slight vibration at your feet. “.. is something wrong?” 

“... The Director’s coming… again… don't do anything-” 

“stupid, I know.” you finished their phrase as they continued with their work, feeling the vibrations of his footsteps approaching far clearer than before, ‘there are 3 doors leading to this room, two on the east and west, and one north-east up a staircase, it doesn’t feel like the footsteps are coming from above but I can’t tell where the sound of his boots are coming from, but… I’m willing to bet the… east door?’

The sound of a door opening to your right had half of the people in the room looking towards it, mainly those who were so lost in their work to notice, including you and Kai. ‘huh, it was the east… lucky guess..?’

You didn’t dare look at the Director for too long, after all, you had to focus on what Kai was doing… Kai, who was inspecting what the much taller grunt was doing with interest for a minute or so before going back to work with a light huff, sounded.. Baffled? You wondered what was wrong as you watched them mess with the wires, disconnecting and reconnecting a couple of set wires before starting to close the panel again, they worked fast that’s for sure.

“See? It’s pretty easy once you know which must be reconnected or switched around. Sometimes in a hurry some other engineers or scientists who don't know what they're doing mess up the wires and make the machine faulty.. The nerve of some people…” they muttered with a disappointed look, making you chuckle briefly before nodding in agreement, not before you felt a familiar looming presence behind you, though.

The large hand on your shoulder made you flinch as the Director’s voice nearly reverberated in your chest with how close he was, like a loud bass in giant speakers. 

“Heyy, how’s the work going-... [Name]..! Liking this magnificent Tower so far?" His tone was far friendlier than you’ve heard before, a smile clear in his tone; it seemed like he struggled to remember your name for a moment but you wouldn't blame him if it was the case, with so many workers here and this being your first day…

“Oh! Uh- great! The work- well, the introduction is going great! I do.. Enjoy it here!” you answered a half-truth with a nervous smile behind your mask, you knew he probably couldn't see it but expressions die hard. “Good! Good! And- hello to you too….. Kaaaailee, yes, Kailee.'' The pause with Kai’s name was longer, and the confidently incorrect answer made it painfully obvious he genuinely didn't remember their name; it was almost charming, just a bit.

“Close yet far, sir.” Kai mumbled to themselves as they gave him a small bow “Hello, Director.”

“How’s your work?” he questioned with a small tilt of his head, his hand still firmly placed on your shoulder. 

“Nearly done, sir. I’m just teaching Ms. [Name] here how our cloners work.” Kai gestured to you as Phobos nodded with satisfaction. 

“Good good, delightful. Anyway, I must get back to my duties. You treat our new engineer well, Kailee, we don’t want a 2-week’s notice so soon!” Phobos’s laugh echoed through the room, sounding almost cartoonishly villainous as he gave two firm pats on Kai’s back before walking off through the west door.

You gave him an awkward wave even if he didn't see it, a hand lingering on the warm spot from his hand on your shoulder for a moment, ‘... that was weird’ you thought before turning your attention back to Kai, who looked to be in slight pain, leaning against the cloner for support.

“... you good?” your hand placed on their shoulder gently, concern starting to lace your voice, Kai let out a small groan in annoyance. “He never knows how to regulate his strength… either way, that was quite the odd interaction.” They stood back up straight. 

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t be clueless. You noticed him following us too, right?” You paused before nodding with an unsure look, “Yeah- well, I mean.. It could just be a coincidence, right?” Kai shrugged their shoulders, 

“Maybe, but the patterns are just too convenient…”

“Patterns?” you questioned, giving them way to elaborate “Well, when he comes around, he scans the room quietly before he focuses in our direction, then tries to act natural by looking over other people before gravitating to where we are. Looking over us or- like he just did, and maybe strikes a conversation.”

“It is a little odd when you put it like that, but doesn't he monitor new people like me too? Surely this is normal-” Kai held up a hand, something you caught on to mean he wanted to stop you mid-sentence before speaking, interrupting you but not at the same time. “Not really, no, at least not that I’ve seen.. He never did that with me at least, nor with any other engineers that I’ve trained before.”

You were about to speak before another engineer passed by you, butting into your conversation. 

“I think yer thinkin’ into it too much again, Kai. Yer scarin’ the poor gal.” he softly punched the taller engineer on the arm, holding a box labeled ‘parts’ under his other arm, the thick southern accent being the first thing you noticed before processing his appearance, he turned to you. “Don’t ye worry yer tiny head about it, rookie, I’ve seen Ol’ Bos monitor some other newbies more closely like that befo’. Seems he does this stuff to ones who he thinks are troublemakers or ‘ave had a bad impression o’ him or Nexus as a whole! Ye don’t seem like the trouble kind, he’s probably just tryna give you a good impression or sumthin’.” he shrugged, stealing your bonnet for a moment to ruffle your hair lightly with a laugh before handing your hat back to you and walking off without another word.

Kai sighed with a shake of his head, rubbing the spot he was punched at as you fixed your hair with a light chuckle, “he’s in good spirits at least.” you mentioned as you repositioned your bonnet on your head, “I guess… he could be right, or not, Phobos is… a bit unpredictable at times… I hate it.” Kai complained as you chuckled again, he motioned for you to follow again, your shift wasn’t over yet and there was more machinery to fix.

I love expanding like this, even if this is probably not what you wanted, I’ll try to speed this up again.

Even after your first day, Phobos kept… lowkey stalking you through your first week, especially after Kai stopped holding your hand through things; you boiled it down to just being him making sure you're not getting into any trouble by yourself, though, it started becoming a bit more obvious that wasn’t the true intention as he started ‘accidentally’ bumping into you on the halls or taking the same elevator to places, sometimes even walking into you seemingly without noticing as you tried getting to Tom and Kai, who often invited you to have lunch with them at the break room if you weren't getting food at the patio.

Phobos didn't understand why he felt compelled to see you, he’s monitored newbies a few times, so this shouldn't be any different, yet… it was.

Most would try to get away as soon as possible unless he actively requested to have a talk with someone, no one dared stay around for long, they feared him, it was always the intent, to be feared, respected, to be this City’s GOD. Yet you were different, you weren’t scared; nervous at most, but it didn’t seem to be directed towards his presence completely. You consumed his thoughts when he was attempting to do his work, his mind gravitating to your face, your mannerisms, your laugh… It was frustrating, what had you done to him? It’s only been a couple of weeks and he’s enamored by you, he’s been attracted to other people before, albeit before he became Director, but it never seemed to go past their appearances, but this? This was bigger, this was more.

It didn’t take long for him to make sense of his thoughts, sure, a couple frustrations didn’t go unexpressed as he seemed to be unpredictable around. One day he’d be all gleeful and conversational with you, the other he’d be distant and judgemental, you assumed he was simply having stressful days… but your gut said to ask, to figure out what was wrong with your boss, especially since some of your coworkers found themselves with the short end of his temper.

So you asked, slipping into his office after the doormen left for lunch, you knew he was in there, he said he enjoyed the time for himself. The office was empty aside from his hunched-over shadow up at his desk, he didn’t hear you slip in as your boots clicked against the floor, making your way up to him.

He had his head resting in one hand as his other held a pen to a paper he didn't seem to read, simply staring straight down, taken by his thoughts. Soon you stood in front of his desk, holding his (allegedly) favorite cup of tea you had gotten based on his orders from the cafeteria in your hands, trying to find a way to gently snap him out of his thoughts without it backfiring harshly on you. Pulling down your mask from your face and letting it lay over your upper chest as you called out his name softly.

Took about 3 times and light taps on his desk for him to see you were there, irritation shifting to surprise to see you in his office, much more without your mask, he hadn’t seen your face properly since the interview… Clearing his throat, he asked what you were doing here, you explained that you were worried about him, and how stressed he was lately, so you came to ask if he wanted to talk, to rant, anything to make him less stressed just so he doesn’t end up killing anyone for a minor mistake sending him over the edge.

… You… wanted to talk… with him? I mean of course you would, he’s Nexus’ God-Emperor and Director after all, why wouldn’t you? Your words warmed his chest, you cared? You didn’t seem like the lying kind, and he had no reason to believe you would lie to him…

Of course, your request to spend time with him was accepted with a welcome, if you were anyone else he might have thrown you out of the window though. Your lunchtime was spent listening to the Director rant about anything he felt like telling you, about the worries of a certain grunt going against his cause, the stress of his goals, and the annoyance that was needed to cater to MERC and their demands for G03LMs, the angry and poorly written emails from their manager still sat in his drafts as he tried to word an unhostile email, it was hard!

He didn’t elaborate on certain things, but you didn’t pry, maybe if you did he’d get more stressed, that wasn’t your current goal. Though you couldn’t help but feel charmed by his demeanors, obviously he didn’t pass on opportunities to gloat about himself, but after he was done ranting, he asked to know more about yourself. It surprised you he was interested in your life at all, but he insisted, so you complied.

You both lost track of time, talking and laughing about funny stories from your lives and even gossiping about things outside and in the tower. Your previous image of Phobos had been broken, that intimidation and nervousness vanishing like smoke in the air, he was just like you and the others, if not a little up his ass but he was still a grunt like everyone else; He liked to gossip, he enjoyed technology and what it could do, he enjoyed comedy, horror, and action movies.

The more you talked, the more the both of you fell for each other, at some point he had forgotten to drink his tea, by the time Lunch was over and his guards came back wondering what you both were laughing about, the tea was cold.

You were disappointed to need to go back to work but you had machines to work on, Phobos suggested you pick up your conversation again the next day. And so followed your new routine, you’d come to work, do your thing, and stay with Phobos for the lunch hour until you went back to work, he even started messaging you after a while to send you goodnights or for you to elaborate on certain things he was really curious about from your conversations earlier.

It took a few months for him to ask you out, and even longer to finally ask you to be his. He made a big deal out of it, of course, it was something private between you both but he went all out on it, flowers, tuxedo, your favorite treat, the works. You made it official on the Tower’s rooftop, watching the sunset together.

He loves you just as much as he loves himself, dare I say even more, his diamond, his queen, he wants you to rule alongside him when he achieves Godhood. He hasn’t told you the full extent of his plans though, you know it's important but he won't elaborate on what he’s trying to do.

He loves PDA, getting a kick of showing others you’re his and only his, kisses, handholding, gentle touches along your sides and shoulders, etc. he doesn’t care about who sees you together, in fact, how dare they stare in the first place.

Phobos can be a bit of a jealous partner, getting protective and possessive of you at times if you hang out with your friends for what he deems to be too long. Later when you're both alone, he’ll remind you of who you belong to with long, deep kisses, and hold you against him, trapped in his arms. It’s nothing too rough to overwhelm you, he’d never forgive himself if he dared hurt you, he tries to take it lightly and playfully, trying to make you giggle even if he’s serious about his words.

Regardless he just wants you well, if you’re in any pain at all he WILL just give you the day off, mayhaps he’ll even excuse himself to keep you in his bedroom, staying with you and getting you anything you need, painkillers, water, anything you crave at the time. Spoils the HELL out of you, and will cling to you as long as you're comfortable.

Speaking of that, he’s a HUGE fan of physical touch. He’ll trace his nails along your back and gently rub your thighs when cuddling, trace his thumb along your knuckles when holding hands, touch legs when just sitting next to each other, and can't hold hands, rest his head on your shoulder and hug you if you're sitting on his lap. Playing with your hair… He’ll never admit he’s a fan of romance books, he’s always wanted to do this with someone, and with you he can finally relax and be soft-ish for once.

Also, he’s big spoon when you cuddle, he enjoys holding you more than anything, but if you insist on him being little spoon he won't protest much, being held is nice too.

If you have a spot when you keep your things at the tower he’ll take the time to leave you little gifts, mainly small things that you mentioned you’d like to buy some time or something, flowers, treats, even just little notes to lift your spirits. He enjoys being romantic, and if it means it’ll bring a smile to your lovely face then so be it.

Some of your co-workers are slightly concerned about your relationship, warning you of his manipulative ways at times, others can't be bothered to say anything because you keep Phobos in good spirits, and keep them from being yelled at so whatever. But he’d never manipulate you I’m sure… right?

Nicknames! My Dear, Starlight, My Love, My Queen, anything to do with your name, usually he’ll put “My” before the nickname because he enjoys reminding himself that he somehow managed to bag such a lovely person. It’s the only thing he questions about how he got so lucky.

He loves you beyond everything. It’s really gonna sting when he dies… Hope you’re ready for that.

===================================

[headlessjest]

Plushy cuddle!!!

This idea was from my IRL friend.

[cook1emadness]

Please, oh dear writer, May I request 2BDamned x Reader x Hank? Idk what else to add on to this so go crazy

A poly... interesting, ok! :D

doc and Hank are rivals at first

I'm not good with stories so it's gonna be headcanons...

Your honor, I hope you're prepared.

The killing machine and the Dissenter

Le Romance~:

So you got the dissenter and the killing machine falling for you. Well, buckle up and be prepared for these to two are now trying to steal your attention... sort of.

No one doesn't realized that these two are trying to take your heart, maybe sanford and deimos, but they don't seem to care much, probably slighty tease.

2bdamned seems to act more of tsundere while Hank acts kinda yandere but still tsundere like doc.

When both find out that they like the same person, they narrow their eyes at each other. Doc and Hank, maybe allies, but even that doesn't stop them from being rivals.

Doc is not much into affection, but they're willing to hug and hold your hand, unlike someone who they are clearly not giving them the side eye(definitely not hank cough cough).

Doc would, on purposely, send Hank to mission, so you can spend time with them instead of that physcopath. But Hank, of course, had tricked up his sleev- ok yeah he doesn't but he kills and speed runs during missions just so he can see you.

Hank likes to be near you when doc is around just to give the doc the jealousy or payback for taking his days off. Doc does the same thing.

Hank may take you on his mission, and doc gets upset, you might get injured, of course, but he is also jealous of you teaming with Hank(doc's mind "hank I swear to God if I find y/n limbs off or worse, I'm gonna cut off your di-).

But they do come to their senses and actually try to share(hank struggles do, because he's selfish). Hank takes time, so he's gonna have to warm up from the thought of sharing someone he likes to doc. The same goes for the doc, but the doc warms up pretty quick.

Now you have more security because if anyone's tries to harm you or even kill you, doc can track the idiot down, and Hank would just go and kill them.

They don't get jealous that much, but if that grunt gets a little touchy with you, Hank would be right behind you, intimidating the poor grunt while doc is out here giving them the bombastic side eye.

Dates are mostly missions(hank), docs office(doc, he likes it privately, ok), your or hank bedroom, and others you can think of dating(doc and hank). Both, however, they sometimes let you choose because, why not.

Spparing sessions are mostly for Hank and you, but Docs sometimes joins in, hey may or not say, "I love a kind a women that would actually just kill me" just to distract you and win. Hank looking at doc like " bruh".

Remember when I said both are tsundere? Well, well, let me explain, for doc he would sound annoyed and try to brush you off, but if you determine, he will give up and let you stay with him. For Hank, he just gives you that look and won't brush you off, just stay mad or annoyed when he's actually not, unless he isn't in a good mood.

Hank love language is gifting and quality time, he likes receiving gifts from you, likes it if it's a weapon or b l e n d e r. Quality time is also one because he needs someone to be patient for him when starting a relationship.

For doc, is love language is an act of service and quality time.

Doc likes it when you bring him coffee and help with paperwork and mission. He likes it because it tells them that you won't leave his side or here to relieve his stress from work. And quality time, is one because he needs someone patient that won't pressure him to work faster, he doesn't need that bullshit and he wants you to listen to him for things that are important to you, them and the S.Q.

So patience is important for this poly relationship, if your aren't patient, you can't love them, and they can't love you.

Done!! I'll now work on Yan!Auditor and the oneshot(which I'm gonna struggle a lot) anyway I hope you have a good day and night...

[that-damn-fouth-chaosemerald]

How about an over protective GN Reader of Eclipse, Moon, Sun, And Solar (with Moon is deep friendship, it doesn’t have to be romantic)

If you’re alright with it that is?

TSaMS with overprotective Reader

×A/N×

I was really tired to write platonic headcanons for them aswell (except Nexus and Moon), but I hope it's still enjoyable!

okay- so if this feels weird, when I started writing first I thought of the concept looking out for them in a fight, not like yk stand up for them and etc, but I edited it a little so it should be fine

×❢ About my work ❢×

fluff, reader is being caring and badass for them and it's unusual for them, sun calls the reader sunshine, only platonic hcs for Nexus and Old Moon!, no mention of pronuons for the reader, poor duded they're probably out of character

Fandom(s): The Sun and Moon Show

Character(s): Eclipse, Solar, Sun, Nexus, Old Moon, You | The Reader | (Y/N)

Ship(s): Eclipse x Reader, Solar x Reader, Sun x Reader, Nexus & Reader, Old Moon & Reader

Form: Headcanons

[The artworks aren't mine! They belong to kiwi_artz!]

Eclipse

Romantic

- Okay, so Eclipse would difinetely find it strange at first, but it doesn't mean that he wouldn't be greatful about it

- He is the one who usually protects you, but he won't conplain if you switch this

- He is also not really used to it so it will feel weird for him and probably take some time him to get used to it

- He won't say it, but he secretely finds it attractive

- He finds it cute how protective you are over him

- He'll still try his best to protect you no matter what

- Most of the time he won't let you fight, but if you're willing to look out for him, then he'll be glad to have you be his side

-After many times, it'll still feel weird to him to have someone who cares about him this much, but he won't reject it

- "Thank you, but I think this is rather my job. Though, I'm not complaining."

Old Moon

Platonic

- Would find it cool!

- He would see you badass

- Still at the begining it's weird to him. Why are you so worried about a machine like him? He done so many bad things, his actions had so many bad consoqences, despite that you're still spending your time at him...

- Please help him understand why are you so protective about him

- He won't complain though, he's definitely happy that he has someone who pays this much attention to him and his well being

- "Thank you... though I don't really understand why you're doing this, but thanks."

Nexus

Platonic

- Also doesn’t understand why you care about him so much

- Will ask why are you doing it

- Poor dude is so confused, he feels strange...

- After you have his trust, he's definitely more than glad to work with you

- "Thank you... I guess."

Sun

Romantic

- He finds it hot when you stood up for him or when you just simply connfident, but he won't mention it

- He's more than greatful to have someone look out for him, but he also feels a little sad about how much time you're wasting at him (or at least, he feels like this way)

- Please prove him that he's wrong- Please tell him that he's worthy and how much you love him. Kiss him, caress him, show him affection

- It'll might make Sun cry, but at least he knows that how important he is to you

- He'll try his best to protect you aswell

- Basically, you're watching out each others back while you showing support to each other.

- It's definitely a comforting feeling to have someone looking out for him

- "Thank you, sunshine! I'm really glad that you're here for me."

Solar

Romantic

- Solar would also find it attractive or just simply cool

- It would get him. Like, really, it would win him.

- He'll be confused at first why are so over protective about him, but after some time he'll get used to it

- He feels good to have someone by his side

- If you're a worried type aswell, Solar will find it cute how much you're stressing about him. But he'll also feel bad.

- He's greatful that he can rely on you, however he doesn't want stress you so much

- He'll try to protect you aswell as he can

- "Thank you for looking out for me"

Also, they would all feel guilty and sick by you getting hurt because of protecting them.

[tsbs-shipfessions]

Me x Backstage AU Nexus

Based. He already has two (or three if you count Solstice) partners. Give him another.

[nowheregoat]

Can you do some skinner cuddling fluff?

Skinner fluff coming right up!

[ddarker-dreams]

Nexus.

Yandere Blade x F Reader.

Warnings: Nothing major yet, some minor Honkai: Star Rail spoilers. Word count: 4.6k.

Nexus index.

On the planet Eris, in the city of Perianth II, night reigns, for there is no star close enough to challenge its rule. 

Deep within the bowels of the metropolis lit only by manmade contraptions, sits a bar known as LOTUS-EATER, carved into the cragged terrain as if it’d always been there. It had not, in fact, contrary to local legend. Had the IPC not run into issues with overcrowded prisons, this planet they now consider a scourge would never have had the means to limp on. 

Easy solutions cultivate the conditions for worse problems to develop later on. 

This is what your mother — a shrewd woman to her core — instilled in you. 

Grimacing, you reread the words on your screen for the umpteenth time. 

… You wish she had instilled some business management skills instead. 

“Miss Exalted-One-Ma’am, when are you coming back inside? This client is refusing to leave until he can speak with you. Lear is running interference, but that’s going as well as you can imagine,” a feminine voice calls out. 

You glance up fast enough to assess her expression. Despite the severity of her words, she’s smiling, amber eyes crinkling by the corners. Her chestnut-colored hair is worn in a braid that extends down the length of her back, meaning she hasn’t clocked out yet, or else it’d be loose. You have some wiggle room, then.

“Nona,” you beckon her over, “What do you think this means?” 

Inquisitive creature she is, she doesn’t waste this opportunity to poke around in your private matters. Her eyes flitter back and forth as she takes in the contents of your phone. Interlocking her hands behind her back, she hums. 

“Looks like we’re due for a visit.” 

“That’s what you gathered too?” You murmur. “What a mess this is turning into. The last thing we need is for the hounds to start sniffing around.” 

“I dunno what you’re frazzled about, exalted one. The locals wouldn’t cough up info to the IPC even if their life depended on it.” 

“Therein lies your answer — the locals won’t, but our clientele is vast as the universe is infinite. Someone looking to score quickly could put in a tip. The hounds are just itching for an excuse to put an embargo on Eris again.” 

She shrugs. “Outsiders bribed and snuck their way in last time, they would now too. Benefits of a quality product.” 

You shake your head and pinch the bridge of your nose. Nona means well, but if she thinks in such simple terms, her training period won’t ever end. Or perhaps you’re being a tad too harsh on the girl, you haven’t slept since receiving this text message two cycles ago. If it weren’t for how scarce this technology is, you would’ve smashed it to pieces for causing you such prolonged strife. 

Alas, as a native of Eris, there are two things you intrinsically cherish above all else — any object that emits light and the special nectary cradled within the planet. 

“I’ll take your input into—” 

A shrill shriek cuts you off before you can finish your sentence. 

“The hysterical client, I reckon,” Nona dryly remarks. “Now, can you please come in before Lear gets stabbed? If it isn’t already too late.” 

You don’t bother dignifying her macabre speculation with a reply. You enter through a back door accessible only to LOTUS-EATER staff, weaving around boxes of cargo that need to be sorted. A heady, aromantic scent clings to the wood, yet its temptation is long lost on you. Where the clients indulge, you abstain. The livelihood of yourself and your workers relies heavily on your psyche’s clarity. 

Emerging from the back rooms has you standing on the building’s second floor, an area known as The Lounge. Here, the spherical, gravity-defying emitters of lights standard in this region are set dimly. This latest model even allows you to adjust the dimensions, ranging from small enough to fit in the palm of your hand to the size of a room. There was supposed to be one more on this floor, but while unpacking the order, it slipped from Lear’s hands and met an early demise. Great cooperation was needed to locate the glass that floated to the ceiling. 

You check the status of occupancies. Two private rooms are in session, the other eight are empty. By your design, it had been a slow night. You gave orders to the receptionist, Thalia, to only book appointments for influential customers, just in case the omen floating over your head comes true. You walk down the hallway which leads to the first floor, only to notice cool colors set in a square array by the digital lock. 

The sight doesn’t sit right with you. You consider taking a detour to investigate, only for the commotion downstairs to encourage otherwise. 

“Sir, if you’d please calm down—”

Lear’s gentle voice is cut off by another. 

“I demand to speak with her,” it heaves. “The mind witch. Where is she?” 

The electronic curtains that lift for those put into the LOTUS-EATER’s database part in a magnificent flurry of scarlet hues. You feel each set of eyes that glance your way. It’s a typical ensemble present — affluent travelers, political emissaries, and well-to-do merchants. Some drink at the bar, others watch the live entertainment playing soft music. Everyone aside from the heaving interloper is dressed in the formalwear expected of the establishment. 

The click of your heels against the dark wood floor reverberates throughout. The man’s reaction to your appearance is delayed, though he eventually turns his head to see where Lear is looking. Resentment contorts his face upon spotting you. You recognize him. Jay R. Alister, a client who gave Thalia a difficult time due to his demands to have a Synalink booking today. You thought you smoothed over the matter by granting him access to the first floor, The Club, and placing him on a priority list for next time. 

Copious amounts of alcohol must’ve unraveled your hard work. 

“Shall we take a moment to collect ourselves, sir?”

“No one— no one understands,” he insists, swaying ever so slightly. It’s a peculiar sight. One message from a handful of the individuals present would be enough to spell doom for Alister, this charade likely already has him blacklisted across multiple star systems. To be a client at LOTUS-EATER is a privilege. Everyone adheres to the unspoken rule of the honor system, eliminating the need for security inside. 

“I’d like to, Mr. Alister, if you wouldn’t mind explaining to me outside.” 

He’s drunk, but a low-level link can be established, you surmise. It isn’t an option without risks. As a recurring client, he could catch onto the invasive feeling and grow further agitated. The eyes fixated on you grow heavier. Some are curious, others bemused, and a few pass silent judgment, comparing your capabilities with the previous Exalted Arbiter. 

He blinks slowly. “My Roze… she’s upstairs. She’s waiting for me. I can’t— can’t be late…” 

“You won’t be,” your voice takes on a concerned lilt, “Let’s go meet her elsewhere. Follow me and I’ll take you to her.” 

A white ring forms around his pupils. 

“You… will?” 

“I will. Come, now, we wouldn’t want to waste any more of her time, would we?” 

The ring goes from opaque to solid. 

The low-level link has been made manifest. You feel the thread connecting you to the essence that makes Jay R. Alister himself. 

You stride past him and he immediately scrambles to follow. Out of the corner of your eye, you note how Lear’s shoulders relax and give him a reassuring nod. He did a good job stalling until you could personally see to this matter yourself. If this had occurred any other time, it would’ve been your top priority, but a far more sensitive issue threatened to ensnare you in a worrisome web. 

One after another, the pairs of eyes fall, like a flying pest in its final moments. Conversation resumes and the music increases in volume. 

Cool air embraces you once you’re outside. This particular region is well-lit, a testimony to its prestige. Restaurants, boutiques, and other fine shops have been built with walls of dark stone naturally found on Eris for better insulation. The once rugged streets are smooth, painstakingly cobbled together by a city planner many Amber Eras ago. Any crack has molten gold poured into it so that when it dries, the ground beneath your feet is a never-ending sea of ebony and gold. 

You wave over the closest security guards. The rest can be left to them, Mr. Alister has damaged his reputation enough for you to consider his dues paid. You’ll tell Thalia to take him off the registered client list for LOTUS-EATER and that’ll be the end of it. You’re preparing to head back inside when a pervasive, overpowering influence freezes you in place. It’s reminiscent of an electric current.  

The taut link between you falters. 

Straining…

(He’s reaching into his pocket). 

Fraying…

(His hands wield a sharpened implement).  

Until it snaps. 

The subjugated lunges at the subjugator. 

You try to re-establish the link, but there’s a fortress around his mind that wasn’t there moments prior. Imposing and unbreachable. Where did this surge of mental fortitude come from? You need to think, you need to act. There must be a way for you to regain control, your technique is unshaken even in the face of imminent demise. In the three seconds it takes for him to close the distance, you make seventy-four attempts, each ending in failure. 

Has the last grain of sand fallen to the bottom of the hourglass, cementing this choice to believe in your abilities as the wrong one? 

This can’t be the end. Who will take care of—

Metal clashes against metal. 

The being in front of you is a shade. Tendrils of agony untold slither up from his thigh and squeeze around his neck, constantly choking him, yet refusing the sweet reprieve a crushed windpipe would give. This is a person acquainted with every suffering a living creature could ever endure. The prismatic shards that detail his countless tragedies aren’t just broken, they’re eviscerated, an indecipherable mess. Some scattered to the wind and others forcibly scratched out. 

This nightmarish presence eclipses your would-be killer. 

His eyes meet yours and the hairs on the back of your neck stand. 

“Don’t bother,” is all he says. 

He could sense you trying to poke around in his head? Has he come into contact with Arbiters before? That can’t be possible, you’re familiar with everyone on the LOTUS-EATER registry. You cease your ministrations without verbally acknowledging him. His hollow expression burns into your retinas, invading your mind’s eye. The sword he saved your life with holds a similar weight. It radiates such intensity that you needn’t use any techniques to get a better read on it. 

Walking up the steps in a casual manner is the last person you wanted to see — Kafka of the Stellaron Hunters. She spares the now subdued Alister a glance then turns to face you. 

“Fortunately, I had the foresight to send Bladie ahead,” she smiles. You resist the urge to scoff. “Otherwise, our meeting would’ve been far less pleasant.” 

So that man’s with her, you think. That’d explain why I couldn’t make any progress. 

If the defenses surrounding Alister were comparable to a fortress, the minds of the Stellaron Hunters are like a deflective shield. Any extensive attempts at trying to gain access end up backfiring and causing you damage so long as they remain up. The only other being capable of a similar feat was your mother. Now, in the few years since her death, you’ve encountered three more with similar capabilities. 

Are your abilities growing dull? Or are other species simply evolving? 

You order the guards to deal with Alister as they see fit, he’s no longer your primary concern. 

There’s a far worse headache forming on the horizon. 

“... I suppose you’ll follow me inside whether I invite you or not?” You question, just barely managing to maintain the smile painted hastily on your face. 

Kafka doesn’t reciprocate your hostility. She never does. Instead, she motions in the direction you were planning on taking them to avoid any unwanted attention. The guards won’t be an issue, since they’re on your payroll. You don’t want to risk lingering and being spotted by someone without an allegiance to you.

“I won’t overstay my welcome, Exalted Arbiter. You have my word.” 

By essentially showing up uninvited at your front door, she’s placed you in quite a precarious situation. The man who parried Alister’s attack hasn’t dropped his vigilance for an instant. His posture is that of an animal poised to pounce. You lack the means to fight them off should they choose to utilize force. 

Your gut instinct tells you it’s a bad idea to get involved any further. Your mind reasons you can only play the cards you’re dealt. 

A sigh passes by your lips. “Very well. Let’s get on with it then.” 

The duo follows wordlessly behind you. Kafka remains close, whereas the swordsman lingers further back, taking care to avoid well-lit areas and remaining hidden. Had you not already been alerted to his presence, he could’ve easily slipped past your detection.  

The Stellaron Hunters are a formidable group indeed. 

During the short journey, you recall the text message that pushed you into this vat of strife. 

It was accompanied by an animated emoticon of the magenta-haired fugitive blowing a kiss. 

You’ll be in need of me shortly. See you then xoxo 

“Absolutely not!” 

An exclamation of unrivaled proportion leaves you, accompanied by your palms slamming against your desk. Old-fashioned writing stationary clatters noisily in the aftermath. She stops the doomed descent of one pen and then looks back to you, unperturbed. 

This woman is a shadow that follows her target persistently, devising fresh torments and sowing discord wherever she steps. To fight her is to do battle with a phantom, no attacks will land. The hopeless charade serves to tire you out. Still, your pride is wounded and without a balm to assuage the tender gash. It can’t scab over to heal. Again and again, it’s reopened, fresh blood washing over what had just dried. 

“I haven’t finished my proposition,” she hums. She sits in front of your desk, legs crossed, her eyes shining an eerie shade. “I wouldn’t dare to ask so much of your resources if you didn’t stand to benefit as well. Our current arrangement has helped you cut down on costs, yes?” 

You drum your fingers over the wood’s lacquer finish. “The word ‘arrangement’ implies cooperation, I believe extortion would be a better fit.” 

“I’ll stand by my original phrasing. The IPC has abandoned all pretense of slowly creeping up rates on shipments to Eris; what they’re charging now will look generous in a few short Trailblazer Years. They want this planet dead and their past misdeeds to die alongside it.” 

“Our current projections estimate we have at least two medium-length Amber Eras before we get to that point, by then, we’ll have countermeasures in place,” you droll out. These details have been drilled into your head ever since you became the head of this quadrant. “What proof do you have that the IPC will make such a drastic move? The other factions will lodge complaints, many of them use our… exports.” 

You wince at the awkward phrasing of the word ‘exports’, knowing full well she’ll pick through any vulnerability like a vulture does a corpse. 

Kafka leans forward. “By ‘exports’, you must mean Eris’ most sought-after natural resource. The tonic of the nectary.” 

“I’m not allowed to discuss such sensitive material with outworlders.” 

“You needn’t say anything, just listen,” she pulls out a vial from inside her jacket. The familiar sheen of glimmering gold within causes your breath to hitch. “Here I have a sample of the latest synthetic developments into the tonic, courtesy of Silver Wolf. The IPC is discreetly channeling funds into the Genius Society to revitalize the research effort.” 

You bite back a laugh. “That knowledge is nothing new. They’ve been trying to replicate the tonic for ages; it’s a money pit. The last I heard, the closest they could get after investing billions of credits is a 14% match.” 

“Try 70%.” 

She sets the vial down and nods, encouraging you to take it. You don’t. 

“... You can’t be serious,” your voice sounds far away, as if it were coming from another room. “You’re bluffing.” 

“You don’t have to take my word for it. Have your alchemists examine it and come to your own conclusions.” 

As a disciple of Destiny’s Slave, she’s confident that this will suffice to convince you, and loathe as you are to admit it, she’s right. The repercussions of this allegation could be disastrous. It’d be irresponsible on your part to not at least run it by the appropriate channels. 

“What does this intel cost me?” 

“Nothing, consider it a token of good faith. There’s a more pressing matter I hoped to bring to your attention, now that that’s out of the way.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “More pressing than the future of my home?” 

“That’d depend on who you ask,” Kafka dances around your apprehension to a rhythm no one else has ever composed. “It has to do with my companion. I didn’t bring him here to take in the sights, he’s to stay on a job until further notice.” 

The mention of that enigmatic man brings with it a resurgence of the feelings you experienced earlier. It hit like a tidal wave, concentrated and suffocating. What would someone have to endure for their psyche to be saturated in such wretchedness? 

“Alright. I’ll arrange for accommodations somewhere more discreet.” 

“I think it’d be best if he stayed here, at the LOTUS-EATER.” 

…

…

…

“What?” 

Kafka has made many requests in the time she’s known you. Normally, she uses you as a point of contact to meet influential individuals or a warehouse of yours to store important items, but this is an entirely different beast. Those endeavors fester outside your purview. You give the push necessary and wash your hands clean of the implications. 

To host a Stellaron Hunter in your most lucrative establishment could very well be the start of the end. 

“After the events that unfolded earlier, you should see the potential advantages. You’re in a precarious situation. The IPC can’t place a bounty on you in an official capacity, but there are ways around bureaucracy. That attempt today won’t be the last.” 

She lowers her voice to an enticing whisper. “And we both know you’re not financially sound enough to hire competent help. Take him. He’ll be yours if you permit him.” 

How her melodious voice can invoke such a raw desire to argue is unknown, and yet, each fiery word fizzles out to ash on your tongue. In the same way you’d establish a link for the first time, you take the pieces of information at your disposal to test where the edges might align. The unusual fees on shipments, the supposed progress on the tonic, and the overall strain that’s been placed on every level of your business — the mosaic it forms is a crimson shade with a metallic scent. 

You can’t die. Not yet, not when it’d cause so many to perish alongside you. 

“This goes beyond ‘a token of good faith’,” you murmur. “Kafka… there’s far more to this, isn’t there? Just what are you planning?” 

For once, the curvature of her smile is genuine. Blatant insincerity would unsettle you less. 

“A gift for a friend.”

Upon LOTUS-EATER’s roof sits your favorite getaway, a secluded balcony. 

There’s nothing fancy about the decor, if anything, it’s worn rugged by the elements. Paint chips off the three chairs and stubborn foliage congregates no matter how often you banish it with your broom. After ensuring you can only be contacted in an emergency, you wipe the condensation off the chair furthest to the right and sit tall. 

Although you aren’t alone, you keep your eyes on the starry sky.

“I would like to apologize for the behavior I displayed earlier,” you take your time with the words, ensuring each syllable has a pleasant ring. “It must’ve been from the shock, although that’s no excuse. Please allow me to thank you properly.” 

An icy wind whistles through. Once it finishes, you fuss over your hair, putting each strand back in its designated place. You grimace when it picks back up again. 

“You can express your gratitude by speaking normally.” 

Your head snaps in his direction. You examine his side profile through narrow eyes, impatience writhing beneath your skin. He pays your poorly masked hostility no mind. One by one, each muscle in your body relaxes, a domino effect you can’t bother putting a stop to. You slump down into your chair and cross your arms over your chest. 

“Have it your way,” you sigh. Your capitulation earns you his piercing stare. “Pretty words or not, I meant what I said. So, um… thank you, and…” 

Despite yourself, you try meshing together a more subtle phrasing, only for those infinite pools of vermillion to act as a successful deterrent. 

“I don’t like being indebted to others, it’s a hassle. So, here is my offer. I’ll perform a Synalink on you, free of charge. Or a waitlist.” 

Blade exhales sharply through his nose. It takes a moment to register that your proposition amused him more than it intrigued him. The perceived affront on your capabilities causes you to bristle. This is a rare opportunity you’re granting him, surely he must’ve heard of your abilities somewhere! People spend years trying to get an audience with you. The other Arbiters you employ are capable enough, otherwise, they couldn’t work here; but you transcend their combined efforts. 

“There is only one thing I’d want to experience, it’s beyond your means.” 

Propping yourself up on the chair’s arm, you scoff. “Hah, try me. Any emotion, scenario, for whatever length of time; tell me what you want to experience and I can make it happen.” 

He doesn’t instantly rebuke you. You share a moment of silence — almost solemn, certainly more meaningful for him than it is for you. There’s a light tug of guilt that pulls at your conscience. Perhaps it isn’t him underestimating you, but not wanting to set himself up for disappointment again. If you’re going to be occupying the same space for an unknown amount of time, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get on adequate terms. This could be the door that’ll open that path. 

You clear your throat to dispense the accumulating tension. “That clothing… you must have ties to The Xianzhou Luofu, or some experience with them. Are you familiar with Immersia games?” 

“Vaguely. An acquaintance of mine plays them.” 

You’re confident you could put a name and face to this ‘acquaintance’. For the sake of cordiality, you keep your opinion to yourself.

“I’ve never been fond of the comparison to my work, but I suppose it’s a decent touchstone. An Immersia grants the player a simulated experience predetermined by developers. There is a degree of immersion, hence, well, the name, but that’s barely scratching the surface,” you explain. 

Reassessing his body language only reveals neutrality. You decide it’s better than blatant disinterest and continue. 

“Traditionally, there are thought to be five senses in advanced lifeforms. These senses don't create the continuity of reality we experience, they just break it down into bite-sized pieces for easy consumption. Forming a Synalink is akin to overclocking a computer, not placing a hard drive in a different system. Your brain finds the stimuli I send it indistinguishable from the touch of your hair against your face, or the woody scent of incense in that jar.” 

His eyebrows crease slightly downward. “A single glimpse into my mind was enough to send you recoiling, and still, this is an offer you’re comfortable making?”   

You purse your lips. It’s a fair point. 

“That was… different. Ideally, any link should be made in a stable environment to minimize disruptions. I had nearly been—” You cut yourself off, finding the sentence to be one you’d rather not finish. “—You know, so I wasn’t at optimal performance. That’s why we have private rooms in The Lounge.” 

Your nostrils flare when he keeps regarding you with that impassive expression. Is his face permanently frozen? Does he need to be unpaused? You almost want to snap your fingers in front of him.

“Hey, you’d be less effective if you had to improvise and fight with, say, a spoon. Would your combat ability be based on that one irregular instance or the total sum of all your fights? Hm? What you witnessed earlier was my irregular instance. If you’re open to the idea, I can make it work.” 

Blade shifts so that he can resume gazing at the sky. Before you can celebrate your victory in this one-sided battle of wits, he speaks up. His voice adheres to a softer creed. 

“You are…” he trails off, taking care to select the proper description, “Remarkably strange.” 

Your eye twitches. 

This has been a miserable cycle. You had to breathe the same air as Kafka, deal with a drunk client that later tried to stab you, and you found out the main export that keeps your planet’s economy from total collapse might be duplicable. All things considered, you should be giving this guy the cold shoulder for the problems he’ll inevitably cause in your future. Altruism gets you about as far as jumping into the air and hoping that’ll transport you through space. 

“Forget it, then,” you get up and twist around. The chair you formally occupied scrapes loudly against the ground. You don’t spare him a single glance while traversing the few steps that separate you from a long, well-deserved rest. Maybe you’ll be extra petty and lock the door so he has to remain here until you wake up. The olive branch has been extended, if he wants to take it and break it in two, that’s his prerogative. 

You raise your hand to unlock the door when abruptly, something captures your wrist. 

Your heart stutters. 

There isn’t the softness of flesh or the warmth that radiates off skin. Instead, you feel the textured surface of bandages graze against you in a featherlight touch. You know the vice-like grip he’s capable of. You saw it in how he clutched the grip of his sword, like it was the only thing he was good for. Gentleness cannot come naturally to someone of his disposition. It’s an intentional choice that requires swimming against the tide. 

Shakily, you exhale, hoping it’ll ease how your hands tremble. 

When was the last time someone touched you? Ah… it must’ve been then. 

You will the thought away. 

Blade doesn’t tether you down for more than a few seconds, just long enough to ensure your attention is back on him. Your skin tingles where he came into contact with you. It’s a prickly, blisteringly hot sensation that starts at your wrist and spreads all over. You squeeze your eyelids shut in a last-ditch effort to recompose yourself. 

He’s looking straight at you when your eyes reopen. 

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” he says. You find it strange how quick you are to believe him. “If you sincerely think yourself up to the task, then…” 

There it is again, that swelling of feeling, visceral to a degree every survival instinct screams at you to turn away. 

You find yourself leaning in closer. 

He rewards your burning curiosity with the unprecedented utterance: 

"Show me what it's like to die." 

[harveybwabbit92]

{R/n wakes up on an altar with cultists all standing around her.]

R/n, struggles with the binds: The fuck is this? {Date’s name}?! where are you, what happening?! (One of the cultists cuts her hand.) OW!

Cultist leader: Now we will start the ceremony, oh forces of the void hear my voice (a portal opens soon as they spill R/n’s blood on glowing stone) 

R/n: W-What is that? what did you do???

Cultist leader: We your fellow servants offer you this virgin lamb– 

R/n, interrupting: Hold up, Hold up! …Virgin? Who the f*ck said I was virgin?

{Awkward silence.}

Cultist leader:…….I beg your Pardon?

R/n: I'm. Not. A. Virgin.

Cultist leader: {D/n}! You said she was virgin!

D/n: She is, she said she's Asexual!

{The other cultists groan and face palm.]

Cultist leader: Dammit {D/n]!

D/n, looking around: What?

R/n: Yes, I’m ace. But I'm not dead! I've had sex before, dude!

{While everyone’s yelling at [Date’s name] for f*cking up the Kaiju resurrection ritual no one notices the portal becoming unstable until R/n is sucked in.]

Cultists: ….Shit!

[A few moment later a giant ball of light follows after R/n into the portal as the cultists nervously stare at the closing portal before a giant hand juts out and a few moments later Ultraman Nexus pulls himself out of the portal.

Nexus was definitely not who cultists were trying to call since they all fled in terror as soon as the ultra destroyed their altar with his free hand, Nexus then turned his attention to R/n sitting in the palm of his other hand.]

Nexus:...

R/n, staring up at him scared: ...

Nexus: Hello.

R/n: *faints*

[the next thing R/n knew she woke up in a hospital after being found on the side of the road, She told the police about being kidnapped and her date's creepy kaiju cult. (while leaving out the part about Nexus.) The cult was found and arrested. But after this encounter R/n started to noticing a doll resembling the giant that saved her was showing up randomly around her home and job. She had feeling he wasn't gonna leave her alone for a while.]

[n1nme4r]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭

❝𝐅𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞-𝐮𝐩, 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞-𝐮𝐩, 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞-𝐮𝐩 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬❞ - Grrrls, AViVA

Tags: anxiety and panic attacks, schizophrenia, slight cheating, not explicit material.

Wc: 9.1K Ss: 5

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The alarm went off at 7:00 a.m. The dull blue shone off the room and caused my eyelids to flutter awake. The sound of the notification rang clearly. I knew I was in for a rough ride. Hey, the additional half-hour was well worth it. What had I not slept in? A week? Two? I'm, to put it mildly, busy. Waking up on a Sunday was refreshing and diminishing at the same time. The joy of not having school was cut short by the ever-present threat of tomorrow. Let alone the morning and night shifts I had at the cafe. I turned on my side towards my marble white nightstand and checked the first notification on my phone. Great. I'm late.

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── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

I locked my door behind me as I walked off on foot towards the café in black leggings and a black shirt. The crisp morning air brushed against my skin, causing a shiver to run down my spine and making me grateful for the extra layer of warmth provided by my favourite leather jacket. With each step, the rhythmic sound of my boots echoed through the quiet streets, adding a sense of purpose to my stride.

It wasn't that far away, but knowing Ari, I'd probably get into trouble for being late. Despite the challenges, I cherished the moments spent at the café, as it provided a much-needed escape from my daily struggles. Ari was... interesting. She never really talked to me at first; she was silent, and I thought she didn't like me. All those years ago in kindergarten, I was right; she didn't like me. I figured that out the hard way when she stuck gum in my hair, but even after she apologised, she still didn't like me. I persisted, and now? Now, she pays for all my expenses. Even my neat little apartment, the rent, and the utility bills. It was all her.

'Huh, she's like my sugar mommy.' I thought to myself as I turned the corner to the quiet city square. It looked different early in the morning, with no bustling and cars honking, but I knew it would only be a few minutes till the bustling of the city square would return.

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The café was quite small and quaint; it seemed out of place in the bustling city square. The bright pink walls were a contrast to the dreary grey of the concrete jungle around it. As I stepped inside, I noticed in an instant that the delightful smell of coffee was not buzzing through the air, with the chatter of morning customers non-existent. It was silent; the door was left open, the open sign was hanging, but yet there was silence. It was unusual for the cafe-at the very least in the morning. The absence of the familiar sounds made me uneasy, as if something were amiss. I cautiously approached the door, hoping to find an explanation for the eerie silence that enveloped the once-lively cafe.

As I walked in, I noticed that the café wasn't empty; there was a group of four men huddled together in the back corner, speaking in hushed tones. Their serious expressions and secretive demeanour added to the growing sense of unease. They had seen me enter, and their eyes were trained on me now. I looked around for any source of a worker. Perhaps, if not Aria, maybe a part-timer. I knew I was trying to delude myself. Aria didn't hire part-timers; it was me and her. So who let them in? I thought back to the message she had sent me earlier. Were these the men she was referring to? I mean, she said they were hot, but she did say that she was scared of them. I felt cautious around them.

Trying to buy time, I reported to the back of the store to check myself in and get my apron. I reminded myself to stay calm and focused, ready to react if necessary. I checked Ari's office before moving into the kitchen. I started the coffee machines and began prepping the ingredients for the day's menu. As the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, I felt a sense of comfort amidst the tension. As I finished each task, my confidence increased, and I told myself that I could handle any situation that could come up.

With that, the beginner chores ended, and I had nothing else to do but approach the table of men. I noticed that they had been staring at me as I did my task. I took a deep breath, calming myself, and made my way to their table. The boys noticed me coming and turned to face me. Sorry, did I say boys? I meant men. The four were built and insanely handsome. She was right; they are extremely hot. I felt the flush of heat warm up my cheeks, and I quickly shook my head, trying to clear my mind. The boys were all dressed in black; the neutral, monotone outfit juxtaposed their feverish-coloured hair.

I caught myself staring and cleared my throat, mentally preparing myself to speak. Before I spoke, I thought briefly about why I was acting nervous in front of them. Was it their striking looks or the aura of confidence they exuded? Their very presence seemed to demand respect and attention. I inhaled deeply, reminding myself to maintain my composure and pay attention to the work at hand.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," I began, my voice slightly shaky. "I couldn't help but notice that you've been watching me. Is there something I can assist you with?"

The men exchanged glances, a hint of amusement playing on their faces. One of them finally spoke up, his voice deep and smooth. His azul blue hair added dimension to his black three-piece suit. "Actually, we were just wondering if you'd like to join us for a drink."

I was totally taken aback. Four men—hot, fine, gorgeous men—that nonetheless were complete strangers were asking me to have a drink with them. Despite my deepest desires—they were quite surface-level—I stood firm, aware that I was completely unaware of the people before me. I took a deep breath, trying to keep as much formality as I could.

"I'm sorry, but I'm currently working hours, so unfortunately I cannot. Though, I would love to assist you in anything else if needed." I spoke timidly, trying to retain a professional demeanour but failing miserably.

The men looked at each other, then at me; they were communicating with their eyes. Their expressions grew more serious, and I could sense tension in the air. It was clear that there was an unspoken understanding between them, and I felt like an outsider in that moment though I wasn't supposed to be at my own cafe. But their silence made me even more aware of my inability to decipher their nonverbal cues. I had to ask myself what they were thinking and if I had unintentionally offended them. Finally, one of them looked up gingerly and slowly, as if monitoring his words, and asked.

"Could you give us a menu then?" I looked at the blonde as he spoke; he had an Australian, almost British, accent. His voice was lower than that of the average human; the rich voice was almost seductive in its smoothness. I was drawn into his presence, despite the lingering unease in the room, which was directed at me. As he waited for a response, his piercing eyes met mine, and for a moment, I felt a strange connection that made my heart skip a beat. He looked almost familiar, as if I had seen him somewhere before. But before I could overthink like I normally do, the blue-head cleared his throat, breaking our gaze and bringing me back to reality.

"Sure! Wait one sec!" I replied, quickly grabbing menus from behind the counter. As I handed it to them, I started obsessing about what had happened before I came. I remembered the fact that Aria still wasn't here, and it had been 20 minutes. Obviously, she had been the one to unlock the cafe; she was the only one with the key. But that meant she was also the one who left them there. And judging by her text, she obviously didn't know them. So what happened?

I left the group to make a call in the back. I never normally go on the phone during work, but this was a special occasion. I crossed my fingers, humming along to my ringtone, in the hopes that Aria would respond and end my suffering. My mind was constantly racing with possibilities of what may have happened to her while I waited tensely for her to pick up. The phone continued ringing unanswered, and I began to feel increasingly anxious and uneasy about things. The call rang twice before the line cut; Aria wasn't picking up her phone.

I could feel a knot forming in my stomach, as if my worst fears were starting to become a reality. Panic began to set in as I frantically dialled her number again, hoping she would pick up this time. The silence on the other end only deepened my unease, leaving me with a sinking feeling that something truly terrible had happened to Aria. As my thoughts rippled around freely in my head, I heard the deep voice of the blonde yell out from the front once more.

"Hey! We're ready to order. Are you still there?"

I quickly rushed out of the kitchen, putting the worry of Aria behind me for a moment, and stood at their table. "Yes, you can tell me your orders. What would you like?"

"Why is all the food here so boring?" The blue-headed man cut the blonde off with an unexpected remark that left him speechless. His comments were filled with arrogance as his eyes assessed my figure.

"Well, the food here was made by our chef. So if you don't like it, no one is telling you to stay."

I bitterly said this, observing the way his demeanour changed towards me. He was staring me in the eyes with a reserved, cold look. The ice carried something different-a mix of illicit and malicous. I examined the way he carried himself, trying to read his intention.

He sat leaned over in the chair, balancing on the leg of it. He was dressed head to toe in black, but unlike the rest of the members who showed up casually, he was wearing a three-piece suit with a white undershirt. His outfit reaked of money, with designer brands attached to him. I took a long, hard stare at him. It was clear that he was not someone to be underestimated or taken lightly. He held himself above others and exuded a sense of narcissism and selfishness. Basically, he acted bitchy because he was a bitch.

"Cocky for a waitress." He remarked, The egocentric fuel flashed in his eyes once again, but just as it had come, it vanished, replaced with a smirk of amusement. "You know what, cutie? I'm sorry... It seems I've offended you."

'Is this man bipolar?'

I looked around; only now did I remember I wasn't alone. There were three other pairs of eyes following me, all with varied degrees of amusement, curiosity, concern, and anger... wait, anger?

He had purple hair; the drab colour almost faded into his all-black outfit. He was staring at me with frustration in his eyes and a clenched jaw. His body language screamed tension, as if he were ready to explode at any moment. I was not sure what I had done to deserve such a strong response from him.

His eyes bore into mine with more intensity than those of his companion. He was looking at me like he wanted me dead. Looking around, I realised that, even though not all looks were hostile, they were unfamiliar. I was alone in a secluded cafe with four handsome but intimidating strangers who looked hostile.

Suddenly, I felt the walls cave in. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I tried to gather my thoughts and come up with a plan. I knew for a fact that I was hopeless without Aria. I was socially awkward, and I never knew how to talk to people. I started to panic as I realised that I needed to find a way out of here and take these strangers with me before it escalated any further. These men were dangerous, and as Aria would say, "Don't tread in the trenches; you'll be pulled in." 

Aria was my best friend and the only person who could navigate social situations with ease. Without her, I felt lost and vulnerable. I had to find a way to tap into her wisdom and strength, even if she wasn't physically here with me. I desperately wished Aria was by my side; her calm and quick thinking always saved me from situations like this.

But she wasn't here... And was I overreacting? Yes, but so be it. I needed Aria like I needed water.  I apologise for my behaviour. It's just that Aria has always been my rock, and without her, I feel  lost.

My eyes started growing blurry as tears welled up, clouding my vision. The overwhelming sense of loneliness and desperation washed over me, intensifying the panic that had already taken hold. I was struggling to breathe, and I desperately longed for Aria's presence, her calming influence, and her ability to find solutions in the most chaotic of situations. 

The air was stiff, and I struggled to breathe. I struggled to ground myself.

'Aria, think of Aria'

'Think of death.'

'Think of Coco'

'Your dead dog'

'Think of Aria, goddam it!! Aria'

I stopped the voices in my head from completely taking over my mind, taking deep breaths. I stopped my body from shaking uncontrollably. I focused on grounding myself, feeling the coolness of the floor beneath me and the weight of my body against it. Slowly, I began to regain control over my emotions. I felt my lungs clear up and my eyes stop welling. Crises averted: not having a mental breakdown in front of complete strangers!

Except, not really.

Once I calmed myself down, I realised that I had blanked out infront of a group of strangers, in front of four random people who were staring at me with concern. Embarrassment washed over me as I quickly regained my sense, trying to salvage whatever dignity I had left. Once I fully stood up, I noticed that the eyes on me were all filled with an almost judgmental gaze. I processed why quickly when I noticed right in front of me was the blue-haired guy; his eyes held a balance of concern and pity. His hand travelled to caress my cheek. His hand was soft and gentle, and... wait... his hand was on my cheek? As quickly as my trance began, it ended. I quickly jumped back, determined to find something other than the table in front of me to look at.

His eyes remained central to me as he softly chuckled. The sound was incredible and miraculous. I felt my face flush, warmth trailing up to my cheeks. I looked him up and down. All black suit, black tie, and black shoes. His neck had a tattoo; from where I was standing, I couldn't see it. But it looked like he had more than one.

"Are you ok, my sweet?"

My sweet. The words fell from his mouth like a curse-a sweet, desirable curse. I looked back and met his eyes. He was attractive-let's not lie-but he wasn't really my type, and despite that, I still felt a magnet pull us together, as if there was an invisible force drawing me towards him.

"Yeah, I'm fine; I just get a little nervous at times."

The intensity in his gaze made it hard to resist, and I found myself inexplicably drawn to him, curious to uncover the secrets behind those tattoos on his neck. Or the reasoning behind that unbecoming hair.

"Do you need anything?" he said, his hand falling back to my cheek.

"No, I'm fine,"

"You should sit down."

"I'm really fine."

"I don't believe you. I can help you know."

"You don't have to."

"Believe you? Or help you?"

"Both."

He looked at me again with doe eyes. He confused me so much. I didn't know his name or what he was doing here, but he had me wrapped around his veiny fingers already. He was gorgeous, in a masculine way. He looked gentle.

But he also looked rough, like he could tear me apart on a whim. He was arrogant and could swich up easily. There was a certain allure to his unpredictable nature, like a dangerous charm, that drew me in. It was as if he carried a hidden darkness within him, masked by his captivating appearance.

As I was pondering the most important-world-changing-thoughts, another male, with dark brown mushroom bangs, spoke. "Chan, can we please order?"

'Chan, huh? What a fitting name...'

"Seungmin, can't you be patient for one second?" Chan said, turning towards Seungmin and the rest of the table. "All of you be nice; she's clearly been through a lot."

"Chris... I thought we came here for food." Seungmin wined.

"Seungmin..." Chris said a warning laced in with his voice. "Seungmin, can you please show some empathy? We can order after we make sure she's okay." Chris's tone was firm and held some authority. I saw Seungmin audibly sigh and retire his argument.

"W-"

"But Seungmins right, I think we've played around enough. Uhmm -" Chan looked at me then, as if he had come to a realisation. He spoke again: "We never got your name; tell me, what's your gorgeous name, cutie?"

"Y/N," I said hastily.

"Y/N, huh... pretty name for a pretty person." He said enticingly, "Well, Y/N, I'm Chris or Bangchan, but you can call me yours."

'Of course he really is a charmer. He probably does this to lots of women.'

He turned back to the table and sat down. All four eyes looked at me.

'This is moving too fast,' I thought with a still smile on my face.

'So even you know it."

'SAY SOMETHING.'

'She can't... she shouldn't'

'That's dumb'

'Your dumb'

'Calm down... You're moving too fast.'

'...'

'.....'

I decided to play along and responded with a playful smile, "Well, Chan, it's nice to meet you. But let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet. Okay, so... what would you guys like?"

"Hot chocolate."

"Latte and croque monsieur,"

"Just a coffee, dark."

"A sweet tea, but not sweeter than you, Mon cherie."

I chuckled at Chan's cheesy remark, appreciating his attempt at charm. As I took everyone's orders, I noticed that I was starting to feel comfortable around them. I reminded myself that I just had a mental breakdown. I had always been quite gullible; at least that's what Aria said, though it seemed like this breakfast would be more enjoyable than I had initially anticipated. Of course, I had anticipated the worst since I saw them, but I guess first impressions aren't always right. Though be careful around the blue one.

"Of course, I'll get that for you," I responded, giving a curt smile and walking off.

I peered through the window; the sun was in the sky, and the new bustle of the city came alive. I watched as people began their daily lives. It was currently 8 in the morning, and the streets were already filled with a sea of commuters rushing to their destinations. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, enticing passersby to stop by the nearby cafes for a quick caffeine fix before diving into their hectic schedules. I could see some familiar faces in the crowd, and I re-grounded myself.

Just because some random men got me scared and just because Aria wasn't here doesn't mean I can't handle the situation at hand.

'I can do it' I promised myself, 'I'll make Aria proud."

Just as I envisioned that, the familiar jingle of the front door opened, and I turned to see the bright face of one of our regulars.

"Stay put, Emi. It'll be just a second. I'm running a one-woman show here!"

I laid out the ingredients for the croque monsiour and started preparing the coffee maker. As I worked efficiently, my confidence grew. I reminded myself of all the times I had successfully handled the bustling cafe on my own, which was once. I had a sense of relief and confidence that I could manage any situation as soon as I finished each task. The cafe started to fill in with more customers, and I could feel the energy in the air. The familiar hum of conversation and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee created a comforting atmosphere.

I inhaled deeply before plunging headlong into the space that housed all of the clients and my upcoming paycheck. The commotion of the cafe served as my inspiration since I realised that every conversation I had was a chance to add a little sunshine to someone's day. I was determined to provide each customer with outstanding service, so I smiled as I collected orders and moved quickly around the crowded area.

"Okay, that's going to take longer because I'm working alone; would you like to change or...? No, no, that's fine... It'll take 10 minutes."

I ran back into the kitchen to finish all the orders. I finished the first ones, and... Shit, I forgot about Chan's parties order. I grabbed the sandwitch and the coffees. I ran to their table, where they were all still sitting patiently, enveloped in chatter.

"Okay! Here you go: one latte with a croque monsieur, one black coffee, one hot chocolate, and a sweet tea; that's not sweeter than me!" I said, "Also, sorry for the delay, and thanks for being so patient."

Chan's face had gone dark now; he had gone back to his stoic expression. He looked at me with something sharper-pure hate. I could feel the tension in the air as Chan's piercing gaze bore into me. The once lively atmosphere at the table had suddenly turned icy, leaving me bewildered and unsure of what had caused this sudden shift in his attitude.

"Yes, thank you, and it's good. We're just happy that you brought it." The blonde spoke, trying to diffuse the tension with a forced smile. However, his words seemed to have little effect, as Chan's icy stare remained fixed on me, making it clear that his anger was directed solely at me.

"It's okay, and sorry again." I said, shying a smile.

"Oh, and is it okay if we stay here for awhile? If you're busy, we can leave." He spoke again, his deep voice pulling me into a trance of enticement. I hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of his gaze, before finally responding, "No, it's fine. You can stay as long as you need."

"Okay, thanks; then you can go back to your work. We'll call if we need anything." I smiled and turned back towards the kitchen.

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It was exactly 2:30 p.m. when business finally slowed down. I had been working for a total of six hours, with minimal breaks in between. We were entering happy hour, and a total of four parties were here: two single parties, one couple, and the four that were huddled in the corner. Eight in total. Chan's party hadn't even made an attempt at moving from their spot since they arrived. They hadn't even asked for refreashments. I couldn't tell whether they were loiterers or stalkers.

On sadder and more concerning notes, Aria still wasn't here; she hadn't answered any messages or picked up any calls. I began to worry about Aria's well-being and wondered if something had happened to her. Her absence was unusual and concerning, especially considering the lack of communication. I just hoped that she was safe and would reach out soon to let me know she was okay.

I perked up from behind the counter as I heard the doorbell ring. Waving goodbye to the last four customers. Four down, four more to go. I peeked at their table and found them staring back at me. I smiled and walked up to them.

"Well, you've officially beat out the rest of the customers. Congrats, I guess. I hope you enjoyed your meal. Is there anything else I can assist you with?" I asked, trying to maintain my friendly tone despite my growing curiosity about their lingering gaze.

"We're waiting for someone; we thought they might come earlier, but well, I guess not." Chan spoke. His voice was completely neutral. No emotion leaked through it.

"Patience can be a virtue," I replied, offering a reassuring smile. "If there's anything else you need while you wait, please don't hesitate to let me know."

"Thanks, we will." Chan responded, turning back to his group.

I walked away feeling slightly reassured that they weren't stalkers. I decided I needed a break. I would take a walk around to the back of the building. I needed to go there either way, and I was sure that they wouldn't steal anything.

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I stood near the large industrial garbage can with a cigarratte in my hand and examined it carefully. It had been a month or so since I promised Aria to quit Cigs. I had kept faithful throughout the entire period, though there were times like this when it was hard to resist going back. The voices, the strangers, and the weight of running the cafe by myself were simply overwhelming. I didn't realise how long I had been straining at the cigarette until I heard a deep grumble from beside me. I found myself face-to-face with the cute, blonde boy from earlier.

He had a lighter in his hand, and his gaze remained fixated on the cigarrette in my hand. "Are you going to light it or not?"

I hesitated; I wasn't supposed to. I had promised Aria. He saw my hesitation and chuckled. Walking up to me and grabbing my hand that held the cigarette, he turned it to face him and lit it, taking a long drag before exhaling a cloud of smoke in my face. As he handed the cigarette back to me, he raised an eyebrow with a smirk and said, "Sometimes it's okay to break the rules, you know."

I looked at him in shock. My lungs filled with smoke as I coughed violently, struggling to catch my breath. He looked at me and sat right next to me on the pavement. He pulled me down and put his arm around my shoulders. He grabbed the cigaratte, put it near my face, and gave me a look as if telling me. 'Go on, you know you want it.' I hesitated for a moment, but looking into his eyes, there was a charm that pulled me in by the simple familiarity of his features and the mischievous glint in his eyes. I reached out and took the cigarette from him, taking a drag, feeling a mix of rebellion and adrenaline coursing through my veins.

We continued in solitude, taking turns hitting the cigarette. I felt at peace with him by my side, despite him being a stranger. He was pretty, with blonde hair, freckles, and a seductive, deep voice. He looked about my age. And he looked familiar.

I turned to him once I was high enough, "Do I know you?" I blurted out. He turned to me, and taking one final drag of the cigaratte, he blew the smoke in my face and dropped the cigaratte on the ground. As the cigarette hit the ground, he smirked and replied, "Maybe you've seen me in your dreams."

'You've seen him before.'

'No...'

'No!'

'Haven't you? Remember Th...'

'NO!'

I looked at him and shook my head, trying to clear my mind of any fleeting memories. His words sent a chill down my spine, but I couldn't quite place why.

"I'm joking; no, I don't think we've met anywhere... Y/N?."

"Yup, and what's your name, mystery boy?"

"The names Felix. Remember it, darling."

"Felix," I sounded softly. I took one look at his face and thought of a lot of things that could be done with the name. But I quickly brushed those thoughts aside and focused on the present moment. There was something about Felix that intrigued me, and I couldn't help but wonder what secrets he held.

"We should go back. He said, standing up, We've taken 5 minutes out here." He voiced pulling himself up. I raised my hand to him, expecting him to take the offer and pull me up. He did, grabbing my hand and pulling me up.

We reached the door of the cafe at 2:38 p.m. Immediately, I noticed that the room was still empty, apart from the boys in the corner. I also immediately noticed that nothing had been stolen. I bid my goodbyes to Felix and went to the back room. I grabbed my phone and checked Aria's messages immediately.

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I smiled at the message, but it was short-lived. Aria didn't text that formal. My heart started pounding as I read the message again. Something wasn't right. At that moment, I heard my name being called out from the other room. I rushed out to see all the members sitting down while facing me.

Chan stood up and spoke, "We wanted to talk with you; join us?"

I looked him up and down. I don't know what it was, but there was something telling me that this man had something to do with Aria's disappearance. I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I should trust him or not. But I sucked it up. I has too, this was my job.

The table consisted of four men, including Chan, Felix, Seungmin, and the purple one. They all had unserious expressions on their faces, making me wonder what exactly they wanted to discuss. They looked relaxed, and as I sat down by Felix's side, I felt his hand slip up my thigh.

'Oh'

'Oh...'

'Do nothing... please.'

I smiled in his direction, a pit forming in my stomach, and looked back at Chan. Chan stood up and pulled me up with him. I was directly in front of him an I could feel his hot breath on my lips. His hand rested on the small of my back. His eyes bore into mine, and unlike before, there was only one emotion. Lust. Whatever he had to say would not be pleasing.

"So cutie, we talked about it, and we decided, Why don't you just come with us? You're nineteen, yeah? We're all in our early twenties. We can hit the beach and have fun. What do you say to it?"

I looked at him as I cowered from embarrassment. "What k-kind of fun?" I stuttered.

"Different kinds, whatever you want, my sweet." He whispered in my ear, and his hands travelled farther down my back, sending shivers down my spine. The intensity of his gaze made me tremble. It seemed... almost right. But It was wrong. It was wrong for me to think that this was right. It was right that I knew it was wrong.

Felix was staring at me with a clenched jaw through dilated pupils. The other two were staring at Chan. I glanced around, nervous about what to do.

'Be calm.'

'Absolutley not!'

'Wait'

'Punch him in the face'

'No.'

'Punch him!'

'Punch him!!'

I pushed him away in utter disgust. My mind finally catching up to the situation. A group of strange men all gazing at me expecting me to join them at a beach and have 'fun' with them. As innocent as I was, It felt wrong. This whole interaction felt...wrong.

"No. I'm not interested in going to the beach with you, and I would appreciate if you wouldn't touch me. I believe you have over stayed your welcome, pay and leave." My voice, I hoped, exuded strength and commandment. But they simply stared at me, not making a singular move.

"Babydoll," Chan moaned his hands still on my waist before I pushed them off. 

"All of you, " I said, turning to the table. "Pay and leave. Please."

Chan grabbed my hand from behind me. "And if we don't want to go? Are you gonna force us?"

"Yes. I am. All of you! Can you fucking leave?!" I yelled, pulling myself away from Chan's grasp.

I turned to face him, and without a second thought, I slapped him across the face. The room fell silent as everyone stared in shock at the sudden outburst of aggression. My hand still stung from the impact of the slap, and Chan was hunched over with his face clumped in his hands. He looked at me with pure hatred in his eyes, but before he could react, the sound of the café bell rang through the air. I turned quickly in time to lock eyes with a nervous, extra-pale Ari.

She was accompanied by two male figures, one with green higlighted hair and one with chestnut brown hair. This is the first time I've seen her today, and I should be mad at her for leaving this place unattended, but a mere look at her face could tell me she wasn't doing well. She looked horrified.

"Ari?! Are you okay?" I whispered, speeding off towards her side. "You look so pale. Do you want me to cover the entire shift? You can go home and rest."

"Haha, don't worry about it." She whispered, feigning happiness. "It's past your work hours; you can go now. I'll deal with them."

"Aria... we need to talk."

"You're right, we do, but we can't do it now."

"Aria! You can't leave me on delivered then show up with two random men and expect me to be okay with it."

"I'm sorry, Dede, but these are my friends." She said this while gesturing to not only the two boys she walked in with but also the four sitting at the table.

"Your friends? Wow, way to go, Ariana." I called her by her full name in a sarcastic tone. "I can't wait to hear all about how you managed to make six new best friends in just one day."

"Dede, please."

"No, Ariana, please enjoy your time. My shift is over. I'm going."

I walked out the door without glancing back. I could feel the tears balancing on my eyes as I made my way to the parking lot. The weight of loneliness settled in my chest, reminding me of how isolated I felt in that moment. I entered the driver's seat of the car she bought me and started the car. Before I drove off, I watched as Aria sat near Felix and smiled at him. Was he also caressing her under the table? I hit the gas and zoomed off-no destination in particular. I just needed to get out of there.

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I could feel the cold bench against my thighs. I was sitting under a pine tree next to the woods near the park. No one really came here, and I could let out all my sorrows freely. I sometimes come here to clear my mind. Remove the voices for a brief second. I looked around the park, taking in the sights and sounds of nature, hoping it would distract me from the overwhelming emotions. The gentle breeze brushed against my face, offering a momentary sense of relief from the weight on my shoulders. and as I enjoyed the sombre flavours of the lemon-lime ice cream, a singular leaf fell right next to me. The leaf reminded me a lot of myself. Why did it drop from the tree? Is there really a reason? Did it have to?

The stupid questions that filled my head and mixed with the voices were sad. A turmoil in my mind. A war inside me. I felt a singular tear roll down my eyes; it cupped my face and soothed it gently. As it followed its way down my cheek and onto my lap, multiple others followed it. Soon I was full on sobbing. The tears kept coming down, and I couldn't stop myself, as if a dam had burst inside me. Each tear felt like a release, a cathartic expression of the emotions that had been building up within me. The weight of my sadness seemed to pour out with each tear.

I thought about everything that led to this. It wasn't just the cafe; it was Aria; it was the voices. All my concerns were poured out with each tear. My head was pounding and spinning. I was caught in-between oceans, hopping for a lifeline. I continued to sob on the bench until I could taste the tears in my mouth. The salty taste only intensified my emotions, reminding me of the depth of my pain. As I sat there, consumed by sadness, I felt something in me begin to unlock. It wasn't something good. In fact, I was scared; I felt like I had opened Pandora's box of emotions after holding it back for so long. It was a lock beginning to unlock as I cried over all my concerns.

"You're being overdramatic!"

'Crying is normal.'

'Someone will find you.'

'How could she do that to you?'

'Felix is kinda cute, ngl.'

'Stop crying!'

'Crying is normal.'

'Oh, boo-hoo, bitch!'

'You're manipulating the feelings of the people around you just because...'

'Why am I even crying?'

'Why are you crying?'

'Crybaby...'

'Crybaby.'

'Crybaby!'

'So dramatic...'

'Literally, no one cares about you.'

'You thought you had a 'connection' huh?'

'You didn't, by the way.'

'You're such a bad friend.'

'You went after her boyfriend'

'Homiehopper!'

'Homewrecker!'

'She won't forgive you for this one."

The tears quieted down after what felt like hours but were probably a few minutes. Though they didn't stop, I continued silently pouring my heart down in the now empty corner of the park. The silence was both drowning and comforting at the same time. I couldn't help but wonder if anyone would ever truly understand the pain I was feeling. A singular question kept racing through my head:

How did I let it come to this?

I kept pondering this question. So I didn't have a chance to register the weight of a jacket hanging over me. The jacket smelled new-a mix of sugar and spice. I looked up to find a boy sitting next to me. He wasn't looking at me; in fact, he was looking at everything but me. There was no one here, and I wondered why he himself was here in this empty place. He had deep cheekbones and super-sharp facial features. In his hand, he was holding two packets of lemon-lime ice cream. It was only then that I noticed that my ice cream had been long-discarded and piling on the floor for little insects to make into their next meal.

He caught me staring, and still without a word, he placed one of the desserts in my hand and proceeded to open his own. I mimicked his moves in silence. As we both indulged in our treats, I couldn't help but feel a smile spread across my face. I wasn't giddy or anything, but I enjoyed the simple act, and before I could stop myself, I let out a giggle, then another, then again, and suddenly I was full on laughing.

He looked at me, taken aback for a moment. He just stared at me, but after a while, a smile creeped onto his face, and he was hysterically laughing with me. We laughed together for a long time, our laughter echoing through the empty park. It was a moment of pure joy and connection, as if our laughter had forged an unbreakable bond between us. Eventually, our laughter subsided, but the warmth and happiness lingered in the air. I knew from one look at his face earlier that he was also going through some tough times, but haven't we all?

He turned to me and smiled. His hand reached out, and he introduced himself. "I'm Jeongin, but most people call me Ayen." His smile was not only infectious but also dazzling. I knew not to trust anyone so blindly, but. He seemed trustworthy. So I decided to take a leap of faith and extend my hand in return, introducing myself as well.

"Y/N. Nice to meet you."

We shared a brief smile before he spoke up.

"So... you seem sad. Do you wanna talk about it?"

I took a lengthy stare at him before I gave in and ranted about everything to him, pouring out my frustrations and worries without holding back. It felt strangely liberating to confide in a stranger who seemed genuinely interested in listening. As I spoke, I noticed his empathetic expressions and nods of understanding, which made me feel even more comfortable opening up to him. The words flew freely from my mouth, from Arias disappearance to the boys to the smoking and finally to her coming back. I

"It hurts so much, and the problem is, I don't know why." I closed, my rant coming to an end. He looked at me with tears brimming in his eyes. My heart broke. Was he crying for me?

"I get that; I really do." He offered after clearing his eyes. "I don't think you're being dramatic; honestly, you never know what hits where. Sometimes the smallest things can trigger a flood of emotions. It's important to acknowledge your feelings, even if you don't fully understand them. "

'God... is this the lifeline? Is this the person who will truly understand and support me?' I wondered, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst my confusion and pain.

"So I'm assuming you came here to try and collect yourself. I'm not helping much, am I? I can go if you want." He proposed, already gathering his things.

"NO!" I voiced, grabbing his hands to stop him from leaving. His hands were soft, and I felt myself sink into his eyes, full of compassion and understanding. In that moment, I realised that maybe, just maybe, he could be the lifeline I had been searching for all along.

"Please stay, you..." I struggled to come up with an excuse for grabbing his hands. I had told myself I didn't want to trust anyone so easily, but here I was.

"You haven't told me why you're here yet." I whispered.

He placed his things back down and sat back down on the bench.

"Well, I can't leave you hanging now, can I?" He smiled; his hands were still on mine, and I smiled inwardly at the feeling.

"I just feel really overwhelmed," he began. "I got a new... job. But they already expect so much from me. It's not just getting coffee or going to dinners. It's the fieldwork; they're throwing me in there unprepared. I never expected it to be this intense. I'm constantly on edge, trying to prove myself, but it's taking a toll on me."

I looked at him sorrowfully. "The pressure must be incredibly tough. Is there anyone you can talk to or lean on for guidance?"

"No, I-I don't really have anyone."

I squeezed his hands tighter as tears began brimming in my eyes. So different. Yet so similar.

"I could be that person for you." I spoke through a lump in my throat. "Let's be each other's lifeline." I smiled at him, caressing his cheek gently. "I think we both need that."

He looked up at me, and we held eye contact. I felt butterflies fill in my stomach. I got lost in his eyes for a moment until I heard the familiar chime of my alarm. We turned away from each other reluctantly, knowing that reality was calling us back. I checked the time; it was 3:00 p.m.

My shift was supposed to start, but I didn't feel welcomed.

"I have to go... Sorry." I turned to him apologetically.

"No, it's fine. Where are you going?"

"Home; it's right around the corner."

"I can walk you."

I thought about the offer. I had a car, and if I went with him, I would have to walk back in the morning to pick it up, but there was something comforting about his presence. Plus, I could use the company after a long day of work. "Sure, that would be nice," I replied with a grateful smile. And so we walked together towards my home, our conversation flowing effortlessly as if we had known each other for years.

It had rained early in the morning before I woke up and went to work, and the streets were still soaked from the downpour. Puddles formed on the sidewalks, reflecting the dim streetlights above. As we strolled along, the sound of our footsteps echoed around us. The air had a fresh, clean scent, and the dampness made the city seem oddly peaceful. We both laughed as we jumped over a particularly large puddle, momentarily forgetting the worries and stresses of the day.

It felt like hours of walking and talking. He looked so gorgeous, smiling. His eyes glittered when he was talking, and I couldn't help but be captivated by his charm. We continued talking as we turned a corner. I was so captivated by him that I failed to notice the car that was speeding towards us. In a split second, I felt a strong grip on my arm as he pulled me out of harm's way. The car drove right through the puddle, splashing water all over Jeongins back.

"Fuck," I muttered. "Do you-"

I stopped midspeech as I looked into his eyes. His eyes bore into mine with an unfamiliar expression. A mixture of care and... and an emotion I didn't know; his eyes were soft and glossy. His hands were wrapped around my back and neck, pulling me into him. I could smell his cologne up close, and it was a comforting scent that enveloped me. In that moment, I realised how close we were-our bodies pressed against each other. It was an intimate and vulnerable position, and I couldn't help but feel a flutter of something more than gratitude for his actions.

'Interesting...'

'He's going to drop you like the rest!'

'He's kinda cute.'

'Totally your type.'

'Slow it down'

'What if he leaves you?'

'Calm down.'

'Even you know he doesn't want you.'

'Enjoy it while it lasts.'

Butterflies twirled in my stomach. My heart raced as I tried to make sense of the conflicting thoughts swirling in my mind. His eyes shone like the stars, and the way the sun reflected on his hair was simply mesmerising, and his lips-his lips were soft and had a pinkish tint that made my knees weak. I couldn't deny the chemistry between us, but a part of me couldn't help but wonder if it was all too good to be true.

The sound of a car beep pulled us out of our bubble; we both cleared our throats and looked away. I saw a small pink tint spread across his cheeks, and I smiled to myself. As we regained our composure, I couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for more moments like this. It was in that fleeting moment that I realised how deeply I had fallen for him, and the thought both excited and terrified me.

He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to me. I took it from his hands and wiped the water from my face.

We continued walking silently; clearly, the event had made us both embarrassed. As we walked, the weight of unspoken words hung in the air, creating a palpable tension between us. It was as if our shared vulnerability had opened a door to a new level of intimacy, leaving us unsure of how to navigate it.

'Should I say something? No, I'll make it more awkward.'

We arrived at the door of my place, and I turned to him. His eyes still held the same look from before, but it was clouded with another emotion: fear mabye? I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to break the silence. Finally, I mustered up the courage to say, "I... I'm sorry for what happened earlier. It wasn't my intention to make things awkward between us."

His eyes widened for a moment. "No, it wasn't your fault. I just..." He trailed off, muttering something I didn't hear. I reached out to gently touch his arm, trying to offer some comfort. He looked up at me, his expression filled with a mix of vulnerability and confusion. I could tell there was something he wanted to say, but he seemed hesitant to voice it.

'Great. You ruined it!'

'It's okay, just try to fix it.'

'He won't forgive you.'

'Look at him; he can do so much better than you.'

'Just fix it.'

"You don't have to say anything. Just know I won't judge." I whispered, letting go of his hand.

"Thanks, and I'm sorry." He responded

"Well, this is my place," I said, trying to change the subject. "Do you wanna come inside?"

"No, I have to go back to work."

"Are you sure? I can get you a towel. Your still wet."

"I have a change of clothes in the office."

"Oh, well... It was nice meeting you."

He looked at me, and I could feel the nervousness before he spoke up.

"Can I have your number? You know... for future reference."

I smiled at him before I took out my phone.

"Sure, for future reference." We exchanged numbers and said bye. I waved from my doorstep as he left and walked back in the direction of the park. Only until he was out of my vision did I kick off my shoes and enter the house.

"OMG!" I screamed once I was in my house. "He's so fine! Aria is... not going to hear about this." I said, catching myself before I texted Aria. She was not going to ruin this moment for me. I couldn't help but replay our conversation in my head, feeling a rush of excitement and anticipation for what the future might hold. As I sat down on my couch, I opened the number he gave me so save it.

'Should I text him first...?' I thought to myself as I lay down on my couch.

I saved his number as I contemplated what to do.

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Y/N: Hey, Jeongin right? Its Y/N. How are you?😊

I sat patiently, waiting for his reply. My mind started drifting to the possibilities of what our conversation might lead to. Would we become good friends? Maybe something more? The anticipation was both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

My lifeline❤️🩷: Hey! It's Jeongin I'm fine. Wbu?

I smiled at his text. I could feel myself heating up in more places than one. 'Y/N. It's just a text. Get ahold of yourself.' Though deepdown, I knew it was more than just the text. I felt a connection forming-a spark of excitement that I couldn't ignore. It was as if our conversation held the potential to change everything. Screw those random men. He was the real deal.

I heard the doorbell ring. Mindlessly, I stood up, walked towards the door, and opened it. I was met with a face I had been dreading to see. I stared into their eyes, knowing no good would come from this interaction.

"Hey, Y/N. Can we talk?"

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I absolutely hate writing the beginning of a story. This is probably, like, the worst thing you have read. It gets better, I think.

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