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christinebloodwrittings · 6 months ago

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Somebody that I used to know.

Request made by @white-00-7

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!reader Summary: Old friends turned into lovers under very distressing situations. Warning: Blood, Adam, violence.

After the Axe-man terrified the streets of New Orleans, there was the butcher of the bayou. A cannibalistic maniac, known to left no “crumbs” of their victims, so to speak. You knew that by being hunting season, he may be on the woods alongside you, what you didn’t counted on was the creep following you, rifle in hand.

A rustle was heard in between the bushes, you aimed at the bush with confidence, thinking it was probably a deer or a duck at least, the creep making haste to do the same, to your head. “Come out, come out” you whispered to yourself, seeing brown hair and antlers, there you shoot.

But the thud was lighter than a deer’s.

Moving the bush you saw a smiling man, “Holy shit!, no, sir, I’m so sorry, don’t die, help please!” you cried out, but as you turned around the lights were off as well. The sound of the trigger on the creep’s rifle was the last thing you heard.

The free fall was the least of it, but speaking of thousands of meters high, one does not think about the fall but rather the impact. However, it wasn't so hard for you, for the poor bastard under you, it was.

"Get off me!" he managed to throw you off his back, “I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to land on you�� he dusted himself off as he regained his composure, clearing his voice when he noticed you were a woman.

“No, I apologize dear, here, let me help” He offered his clawed hand to yours, only by then both realized they didn’t looked like humans no more, “Interesting” he muttered, pulling gently on your arm.

He was looking at his new self when he heard a sudden laugh, “What’s so funny?” he questioned, then you pointed at yours and his little tail, “They’re so fluffy” he wasn’t so enchanted by the cutesy fact.

He was a deer, a white back at that. You on the other hand were a red one. A stag and a doe, how fitting both lifestyles of pride, more than anything.

“Why are you down here, dear?” you thought about it for a second, pride and rebellion was your first thought, then your taxidermy hobbies, “All I can think off is that poor man I killed as of a few minutes now, I mistook him for a…deer” he took a second to think about it, the click that made him stand up was a riffle trigger, your weapon.

He laughed, "You killed me," he continued his laughter, he took your arm to start walking towards the city, "I must say, my dear, that of all the evils in this world, you are the only thing I didn't think would send me to hell" It still made him laugh, "And it's even funnier that they killed you almost at the same time you killed me, life is a great irony" he smiled, one of the sweetest smiles he gifted you.

Now, don’t get him wrong, he was mad out of his mind, also slightly scared, not that he would admit that. Though the warmth of your arm linked with his brought him an anchor like feeling.

After a few years of living together, Alastor disappeared without warning. "I will become stronger, soon the citizens of hell will know of my power” He used to take his place at your side and daydream about greatness and have everyone's respect, more fear than respect though.

“I will be able to protect you" that sentence lived rent free in your head, his voice a mere echo in your memories, after seven years you almost didn’t remembered his face anymore.

Alastor took care of the most bloodthirsty so that you didn't have to, without him there, you had to take measures into your own hands. The Pride Ring came to know you as one of the best snipers, the Overlord Ghost Shot, your elemental power to control the air could make your bullets fly up to lightspeed, also take away the oxygen off your enemies lungs.

You build up a company off the souls you began to own, you provided the fabrics that boosted businesses like Velvette’s or Rosie’s, known for the good quality and resistance. You didn’t worried yourself with planned obsolescence, there’s always a new design and a new trendy style that makes people keep buying.

And giving the amount of violence, clothes get ruin almost every day, Never in all the years you have been in hell have you been short of money, you managed to get a suite apartment in your own district, near the Morningstar district.

Eighty-four years of having Alastor by your side, and he just disappeared like he didn't care. Not a note, telegram, letter, anything in 7 years.

Until one afternoon when you received an invitation to an emergency meeting, it seems that Adam the first man brought forward the extermination half the time, having six months of preparation. Not one year you’ve lost a soul, but you weren’t going to start now.

“Asano, I need you to begin the preparations of the bunker, the winged rats will come down on us sooner than anticipated” you had souls knocking on your door, practically begging to make deals with you, giving that in exchange of their souls you provided safety, free housing, and a quality of life no other overlord did.

Although at the beginning some sinners wanted to abuse your good will, since you are a deer demon they tend to look down on you. They didn't find it funny anymore when they started to suffocate. Word on the street is that the air gets thicker when you’re in the room.

“I have the technical revision of my company Milla, if your plan is to arm yourself to fend off the attack don’t count on me, I have bigger priorities” Carmilla was one of your dearests friends, you made her gears laced with angelic steal fibers, and in return she updated your riffle, also gave you bullets made of angelic steal.

“I’m not saying we should, all we need is brainstorm a plan to lose as few souls as possible” she heard you made a pensative hum as she watched the overlords take their seats on the table, “You don’t wish to hide like we do, though you’ve lost more souls than I have over the years, so, do whatever you think is best, I’ll help if you want to listen for once” you hung up before Carmilla made herself aware of Alastor’s return.

You didn’t owned a television, so Vox’s lovers spat never reached your way, and on the streets of your district no one really cared of other overlords, knowing they were under your wing.

"Y/n dear, how about you stop by the tower? They opened a new cafe on the corner, I bought cream cake and the tea that you like, it’s been a while since I saw you" said the letter that you received along with a new cell phone, Vox was more like a stone among the demons that courted you, and even though you sent his electronic junk broken back to his office, he didn't stop insisting.

“I’m so glad you came, how are your preparations for the extermination?” you brought the tea cup up to your lips, “It has been rather sudden; however I have managed to mobilize things on time, how about you?" he cut up a piece of cake, just as big as he knew you liked, “Oh we are fine, we aren’t the target anyway” your ears perked up in interest, his grin grew bigger on his face as he noticed.

“The princess is trying to redeem sinners, have you heard?” you nodded, “The Radio Demon is helping, but as useless as he is-” you began laughing, “The Radio Demon? What kind of pompous prick is named like that?” then sipped on the tea, “You know, Alastor” but as soon as he uttered that name, you choked on your tea and stormed out of his office.

And thank goodness, the air was too thick to breathe, Vox was having issues with it until you left.

“Mimzy, we know you’re in there you lousy bitch!” you heard the loan shark yell towards the ‘Hazbin Hotel’, trying to knock the door down with a pry bar. “Gentleman, you’re in my way” you spoke, seeing a green glow wrapped the building.

“Not to mess with the Radio Demon!” taking another puff of your cigarette you watched the ten stories tall face of a man you used to know. A smile you didn’t recognized, stitched on the sides, holding his smile up. As soon as he finished eating the sharks he stopped on his tracks, merely centimeters away from your body.

“Y/n?” his distorted voice spoke in utter disbelief, “Good day Alastor, it’s been many moons, don’t you think?” He was frozen, the cute little deer girl he left all those years ago was nowhere to be seen. Replaced by a woman, wearing a dark black attire and tired eyes.

"Y/n, long time no see" he had to shift his voice a little, Charlie and the rest were right behind him inside the hotel. His chirp tone making it seem like he didn't disappeared at all, was a direct stab to your heart.

"You look..." you didn't know anymore, "Different" eyeing him from top to bottom with a disgust grimace in your face hurt him beyond his understanding, "Yes well, I told you I would get stronger" his eyes were different, they were empty.

"I see that, have a good day" you turned around in your heels ready to walk away from the place, "Y/n wait, that's it?" He was hurt? Why did he felt the audacity to pretend to be the victim when you were left behind.

"What else you want me to say?" Since he left, you stopped being joyful, the killing and the merciless torture you went through did that, and it was all his fault.

"A warmer welcome would be nice" you took out your rifle then shoot his shoulder with a dull bullet, "Warmer than that?" It didn't bleed but it hurt, so much it made Alastor take a few steps back.

"Alastor!" The princess cried out for him, "What do you think you're doing?!" Her little horns and red eyes made you snicker a little, "Is this what you've been doing all these years? Help this little girl with her hotel?" Alastor stood up, making seem as it didn't hurt at all, "Now, now Charlie, all is fine, no damage done" she tried to worry about him but it was no use, "Who is Alastor to you?" She asked you, distorted voice and hair flaring.

Alastor had his eyes on you specially when you locked on his dials flashing on and off, "Someone I used to know” the pain was real that time, Alastor didn’t even try to hide it, “Y/n please, let me explain” a small laugh escaped your lips, the first smile he saw from you in a while.

“Not a note, letter, smoke signal, nothing in seven years” he tried to make up an excuse, but you didn’t let him speak, “I had to find out from Vox, and as distasteful as he is, at least is a true friend to be in touch at least three times a week” the fact he told you sent a holy bullet up on his pride, “I can’t explain” he went again.

“I-don’t-FUCKING-care” you accentuated every word, “Woah, what is going on here?” the one and the only Lucifer Morningstar came next to his daughter, wondering wat was taking her so long after she ran out.

“They know each other” Charlie waved her hand in between the two. “Lover’s spat?” he inquired mockingly, which you replied with a straightforward and cold “No” making the devil choke on some saliva, “Makes sense though, with a face like that” when Lucifer turned his eyes from Alastor to you he saw the end of your rifle, “First one is a dull, will hurt, the second a holy one, apologize” internally Lucifer applauded your bravery, so with a smile that reached his ears he uttered “I’m sorry Alastor, I didn’t meant to bring out the obvious”.

He made you smile, “Good enough” you put the rifle strap over your shoulder again, “I’m not going to apologize for that, by the way” he didn’t expected you to.

Alastor watched the scene with jealousy, as in less than two seconds of interaction you received Lucifer in a better way than him, you even smiled at him better than him. If he had a reason to be angry that was one. When you turned your head he noticed a burn on your neck, then he went down and saw the scars on your hands, maybe how many more marks you had on your body, experiences that took away the innocent friend he used to have.

"You're thin, you don't eat enough or what? What happened to your teeth?" you started making questions that made Alastor sweat, “What is this Radio Demon shit? Who do you think you are, huh?" “Somone that will take you down if you keep at it” “Baby, we’re not at the same level, you are the lowest of the overlords”

“She’s right” “I haven’t lost a single soul in all these years, I can steal air from your lungs by just wanting it” he started feeling at loss of breath, his lungs compressed forcefully searching for oxygen, “I offered you my life, my time, my love” you straightened his bow tie, ignoring Charlie’s pleas for you to stop hurting him, “And you just kissed me, and early in the morning after, you took off, seven years without a single signal you were alive”.

“And now I find out that you’ve been here for five months already, not even once you tried to reach me” your hands palmed his chest slowly, your warmth poring through his clothes, “I have my territory delimited by a black line, if you cross it, I won’t be so nice as I am now” you hovered your lips over his, returning the air down his throat.

Lucifer whistled an impressed tune, “Y/n please, I can explain” he heard Alastor breathing rapidly, getting off Charlie’s support to try to get you, his knees stopping on their tracks due to the lack of strength left, “Y/n right? He looks like he wants to make things right, please give him a chance” she plead, it getting to your head very quickly, damn that puppy face.

“Y/n please, tea and tea” he dared to say, bringing Lucifer’s attention, “What’s that?” he looked your way for an explanation, “It’s where we drink tea and talk” you thought about it for a second then looked at his eyes once more, “Someday, not today, you seem preoccupied” with that you took your leave, feeling your heart heavy and lonesome as you did.

It wasn’t until Extermination day, that from your balcony you saw the horde of angels drop on the hotel, immediately seeing the flow of Alastor’s dark magic being shattered by Adam. Almost out of instinct you ensembled your long distance sniper rifle, setting it on the edge of the rail, waiting for a perfect angle to make the winged rat fall.

Suddenly Alastor few against the edge of the building, that’s when you shot, the bullet piercing the base of both of Adam’s wings, making him wince and drop against the ceiling in pain.

“Radio ain’t dead until I say so, asshole” you allowed wind to take your message, prepping another bullet in the chamber, aiming directly at his head, “Freaky face has a girlfriend?” he joked to pass a little of the pain, “Y/n?” Alastor whispered to himself, feeling the air shift around him, his body reappearing beside you after a swirl of air teleported him.

“When I get my hands on you-“ you didn’t let Adam finish, shooting the joint of his shoulder, leaving useless his dominant arm. “Y/n” that’s all Alastor could utter, seeing you so beautifully concentrated in your aim, “You think I’ll spoil it for Lucifer if I shoot him dead?” you gave Adam a warning shot on the leg, the next one being a holy one.

“Good riddance either way, mon coeur” he had carefully stood up, supporting his weight with a hand on the railing and another around your waist, “Oh never mind, six wings is beating the shit out of him now” you said a tad disappointed since your game ended, feeling Alastor hiss at his wound.

“Don’t touch it, let’s go, I’ll help” you sat him on your bed, helping him discard his clothes. “I’m sorry for leaving like that” he sounded so sad and weak, he was deeply angry at himself for how blind he was, for taking you for granted and abandoning you without explanations.

“It doesn’t matter anymore” you made haste to patch up the wound as best as you could, but there was so much blood blocking your way, “Y/n, please forgive me” he pleads as you try your best to stitch the would close, “Why do you care so much whether if I forgive you or not?” he cupped your face, a tenderness unknown for you, uncommon of him.

He wasn’t used to be gentle, not desiring to rip your flesh apart was new to him. Instead there was this fire that warmed him up from the tip of his ears to the tip of his hooves, “Because…I love you” that word felt right, as his hands brought your hips closer to him, his thighs on each side of your knees, “The moment to say that, was seven years ago” you allowed your powers to wrapped his bandages in a perfect way, “I can make it up to you” he could think of a thousand ways to bring you back to him, unsure if in the way you were now, any of those would work, but he had the rest of eternity to find out.

“And who assures me that you won't disappear again? I felt so alone without you” his hands pulled down your hips, seating you on his leg, “Me, I promise you I’m not leaving you again, I can’t” you laughed, hands on his bare shoulders, feeling the thin layer of fur.

“Is it because now I’m powerful?” he didn’t expected you to think different of him, he couldn’t blame you, “No, because I cannot breathe without you, I missed you very much, mon amour” seven years of you in his mind, haunting him, missing the warm spot in his bed, refusing to sleep at all if it wasn’t with you.

“Please my love, my moon, my sun, my everything, let me rectify my wrongs” a chill it enveloped your entire body, “Or let your gun finish what you started” he reminded you of your set of words of earlier, his smile relaxed and lovely, “If you ever dare to abandon me again, I’ll prove that you in fact can die twice” your hissing at the last word made him sigh happily, then he moved to place a kiss on your cheek, inhaling your scent.

“You’re hurt” you whispered when his kiss traveled down to your neck, “I know, but I can bare it” you plead that he took a small time to rest, but he kept tightening his arm on your waist, then the other on the back of your neck.

When he licked the underside of your neck up to your chin, he suddenly winced, proving your point, “How about we try something else?” you saw him grin, he only did that when he had something on his head, “William found the bath a while ago” you saw the slippery friend crawl up the wall, a proud smile on his face.

“You sent him to draw a bath?” he chuckled, “I remembered it was something you fancied, the morning after us…” he remembered, you told him you wanted to wash his hair in the morning, but he left before even giving you an answer, “You know that means I’ll have to touch you?” his ears pinned down on his head so he could nuzzle against your neck, “Ever since that day, I’ve craved no one’s touch, just yours”.

His grin grew when he felt a certain movement against his forearm, “Damn thing” you cursed, “You’re not the only one” he was wagging his life off, he guided your hand to his lower back so you could feel him, “Sappy old man” you kissed his lips, “You’re not that younger than me” he continued the loving gesture, “The water will get cold” you heard the shadow groan thinking his efforts will go to waste.

“Let’s get to it then” you spent the rest of the night in each other’s arms, Alastor nearly passed out when you were massaging his scalp with the lovely scented shampoo, you told him you were never going to stop bragging about it. Then when it was your turn to get pampered, he couldn’t stop himself from kissing your shoulders, the back of your neck, arms, every piece of skin he could.

His hands just as yours were free to roam around, both delighting in the ministrations, to the point only moans of satisfaction were echoing in the bathroom.

“Just so you know, if you have a significant other, he’s dead, you’re mine now” you giggled at his possessive nature, now both dry but still naked on the bed, “Good thing I ended that relationship months ago” you sassed him, earning a small bite on your clavicle, “As soon as I’m better, I’m claiming you” his eyes shifted to have dials, “Sure thing, you have a lot of pain to make up for, ya’ know?” he knew that.

There were parts of your body that were burnt, others covered by patches made of steel, then there were the cuts, the scars, the lashes, everything he acknowledged it was his fault, “This, are they dead?” you shook your head, “Then my broadcast will have new voices” his voice took a low tone and the growl made you feel butterflies, “Thank you” you whispered, lowering just enough so you could have your head under his chin, legs intertwined, arms holding each other as close as possible.

“This is going to sound weird, but I’m glad I killed you” he let out a breathy laugh, “Me too”.

#alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel fanart #radio demon

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seancekitsch · 5 months ago

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Vox from Hazbin Hotel x siren! reader?? PLEASEE i love this concept sm-

i think i accidentally created myself an oc, also, if you spot the showgirls reference ill give you a cookie, this is inspired by the general flavor of moulin rouge and showgirls

“What the FUCK?!” you all but screech, throwing your blush frustratedly at your vanity. The small compact hits the cool marble, and immediately the product with the pan shatters, ruined. It was expensive. Fuck.

“I- I don’t know what happened…” Jinni, a succubus, your assistant and opening act, stutters from the door. Scared.

You deflate, rolling your eyes as you calm yourself and stop scaring the girl. You have to remember to stop raging near her. She’s young, too young.

Overlords in the club mean a good tip, mean security, mean you and girls like Jinni make rent safely and have some fun money to toss around as well. You practically fall into your chair, yank a fake eyelash off as you sigh, ready to put on the next pair for your closing number.

“There’s gotta be some reason the voice didn’t work on him,” you say, “I’m gonna find out why.”

“Are you sure thats a good idea?” Jinni asks, her tail curling around one of her legs. You have a soft spot for the girl, you really do. A place like this is gonna tear her apart; or at least, it would if you didn’t immediately take her under your wing. You pat the little chair beside you, and wrap your arms around the girl as soon as she takes the spot.

You both stare at each other’s eyes through the mirror, sweat and make up blurred against your complexions, a reassuring smile spreads across your face.

“I’ll check and see if he has the VIP package, and pull out the damsel in distress act,” you tell the little succubus, now cheek to cheek with her. She smiles at you through the mirror, knowing full well you’re ready to ham it up.

“Thats your best one,” she says, and comes closer to pick up a body glitter for you. Jinni leans on the chair behind you, resting her forearms on your shoulders. You gaze at her while your hand moves with the brush across your face, at this point muscle memory kicks in, flawless. She’s why you still play nice, you think.

“Gonna make sure you don’t have to go back to doggy chow for dinner,” you chide as you finish up your new look, a bit more dewy and innocent looking, as you shake her off and grab a lace robe to walk backstage in. Jinni laughs, and then takes your seat to take off her own make up.

You’ve done this walk thousands of times, the long dimly lit hallway, all of the girls rooms hidden behind flimsy curtains and makeshift doors, signed by girls current and long since past. Your feet feel light below you, though nerves course through your veins. The patrons cheering is almost quieted here, all the quiet white noise that sets you ablaze in excitement and anticipation for another performance.

But before the end of the hall can be reached, a meaty hand comes out to stop you, wrapping around your bicep.

“Outta my way, Flicker, I gotta tell the sound guy to switch my track,” You turn your head away from the stage manager, not willing to take a face full of his calamari breath.

“You ain’t goin’ out there again tonight,” he explains, “Got a private booking with a big spender.”

You sigh, right, just what you needed right now. You wish you could shoot a quick text to Jinni but… your phone is back in your dressing room with her. She’ll have to fair without you until this is over.

“Right now?” you meet his eyes, and you can tell he wanted you in there five minutes ago. Shit. Well, here goes the girls' good tips for the night, you sigh, and turn towards the stairwell that leads you up to the private boxes.

These rooms are gross; there’s no way to sugar coat it. You hate private bookings, much preferring to dance on the floor with any high spending patrons, giving them the girlfriend experience while you have the added safety of being able to slip away. These private rooms don't even have walls, more like private theater boxes so the managers can make sure you're keeping the clients happy. Up here, your talents are much more obvious, much harder to avoid blame.

You wonder what this guy will want. A champagne pour? A strip tease? Or worst of all, a dry hump or an over the pants job? You’d hate for this asshole to fuck up your costume or make up. That shits not cheap down here, and you only hope that after this private booking the overlord in the back of the hall might have loosened up and opened his wallets to one of the other girls or the house.

But it still digs at you, like an old wound you cannot help but pick at… that your voice didn’t work on—

Him.

Its him. You can see through the sheer curtain the overlord in a suit. An old fashioned in his hand as he leans against the railing, the finale of the show tonight kicking into full gear below, all of the patrons like dogs on leashes waiting to be released to dance and party with the girls until dawn once the stage is clear.

“Oh, Sir!” you call to him as you pull back the curtain, your flimsy robe fluttering behind you, “What is a man of your caliber doing in a place like this?”

Maybe you’re laying it on a little thick with the sultry little voice and the innocent act, but that’s what the men pay you for. He turns quickly, as if he didn’t expect you here so soon, but his smile quickly grows, teeth glowing against the low lighting of the private box.

“What do you mean?” HIs voice is smooth as butter, “Is a man of MY caliber not supposed to admire beautiful things? Consider me a patron of the arts.”

You lounge yourself on one of the couches, effortlessly parting the bottom of your robe, kicking your legs up, really giving him a show. The boning of your costume digs into your ribs, but you don’t move. You always win over the higher spenders by laying out the feast for them.

“Is that so?” you ask, a fake demure giggle leaving your lips, “Well then consider me confused, because you didn’t look so happy during my number earlier.”

The glow of his eyes distracted you, both out on stage earlier and now. His gaze intense, his posture rigid.

“Maybe,” he trails off, crossing the little box until he’s in reach. One of his large hands wraps around your ankle, and then carelessly yanks your ankle off the couch to force you sitting upright. Okay, you’re only a little offended. Moreso intrigued by his seemingly complete lack of attraction to you. You drop your robe from one shoulder, baring more skin to entice him. Men are men, after all. He moves to sit at the other end of the couch. Maybe not all is lost, you think, as you pour a glass of champagne from the side table. The girl they threw on stage instead of you is killing this performance from what you can tell, and you know she’ll finish strong by the aerial rig set up and ready to go for her. You sip your glass as he sips his, and lean in closer to him, hoping that a little more proximity to him will help you figure out his deal.

“But maybe I’m more wondering what the fuck someone like you is doing here,” he sneers as he stands, leaving you falling sideways into the space he vacated, nearly spilling your glass.

“I- I beg your pardon?” you splutter, the sultry voice gone for a moment as you check to make sure you didn’t waste a drop of champagne on your robe.

“And stop with the agreeable little whore act, you can talk to me,” he winks at you as he says it, red glowing eye rimmed with teal. You sigh as you brush yourself off from both he physical and metaphorical stumble. Okay, what does he know?

“Someone like me?” you ask, your real voice now dripping through.

“Someone with power, darling,” The overlord says as if it’s obvious, “Someone with a talent like mine.”

He finishes his drink, and tosses the glass over the railing into the patrons gallery below.

“I could use someone with talents like yours,” he says, and your blood runs cold. You know what overlords mean when they say that. Your eyes dart to the curtain, to the hallway. If you shouted, would Flicker hear you? Wait- What are you thinking? He doesn’t give a rats ass about his girls’ safety.

You do the only thing you can, you open your mouth to sing.

“Ah ah ah, nope,” he holds up a finger to silence you before you can begin, “That won’t work.”

You close your mouth, open it, close it again.

“How did you know?”

If he knows, he can tell. If he tells, you lose money. Girls back on the street, you without a plan here.

His scowl turns to a smile, his eyes glowing brighter, circular rimming pulsating within his sclera. A funny tickle passes over you, as if he was blowing on you, gentle and odd. You furrow your brow, and then your jaw drops. You get it now.

“Oh, Sir!” you play it up, ‘agreeable little whore’ voice as he called it back in full force, “I didn’t realize we were so evenly matched!”

“I’m glad the smartest girl in this joint is also the prettiest,” he flirts, walking back over to the couch until he’s leaning on the arm of it.

“How were you thinking of spending the evening mister…?” You stick to script if you trail off, not wanting to ask him outright what he wanted, now that you know what you’re dealing with.

He crackles, static, his glow dimming momentarily.

“Vox, darling. Where are my manners?” he finally introduces himself as he reaches over you for the bottle of champagne in the ice bucket and the other glass. He knows this game too, you realize, as his cologne wafts over you; something rich and woodsy. Attractive and expensive.

“I’d like to offer my patronage, to your little,” he gestures around with the empty flute before pouring it, “artistic endeavors personally.”

That would be nice. A steady patron would mean steady money, steady numbers and acts, a bigger costume budget. His lap doesn't seem like a bad one to be perched on.

“Thats very generous, Mister Vox,” you say, holding out your glass for him to top it off, “But I can’t help but wonder what you want in return?”

His smile changes, less sharp, more real as he moves the neck of the bottle to your glass. He looks you up and down, scrutinizing every detail.

“Your voice,” he goes on to explain, “For some important events, some advertising. I can make you a star, darling.”

It dawns on you that he hasn’t even asked your name, but then again you also weren’t going to give a client your real name. The entire idea is attractive, desirable. The patronage of a handsome powerful man, a legitimate name for yourself in the entertainment industry, security.

You reach upward clink your glass against his, urging him to clink yours back.

“You’ll have to win me over with a dance,” you tease him, your lips curling into a downright vicious smile.

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #vox hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader

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whorergal · 2 years ago

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SHE'S MINE

summary: you get attacked by ghostface but another ghostface comes in and saves you…

warnings: scream vi spoilers, language (cussing), blood, gore… typical horror stuff lol

pairings: ethan landry x fem!reader

authors note: this is my first ever imagine (and post) on here so i hope u like it >.< i want to write more so i’ll try to be active especially for ethan. also, this is pretty short so i wouldn't mind writing a part two :3

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You weren't in much of a party mood unlike the rest of your friends. Really, you haven't been in the exact mood in doing much anymore. Ever since Woodsboro, you had lost a part of yourself in the tragedy that haunted you. It was unusual especially since it was nearing Halloween, your favorite holiday, that you didn't want to participate in dressing up and getting drunk as a reward. You decided to stay inside your apartment that you shared with Anika, catching up on homework that you had missed.

Tara had made it her job to text you every so often, casually updating you on the party. After a couple more short texts, they started to become more and more hard to understand which made you laugh. At least someone was having fun.

When you sat aside your phone, trying to keep all your attention on finishing your notes, your phone began to ring. You furrowed your brows when you took a glance and saw it was coming from an unknown caller. Immediately you became paranoid. You let it ring until it ended, shaking it off as a coincidence.

Ghostface was gone. There was no possible way it could've followed you and your friends to New York City. Right?

Your phone began to ring again.

Maybe it was Tara, you thought. You knew she was drunk so maybe something happened and she was borrowing someone's phone. But why wouldn't she just use Mindy's or Anika's? You tried not to think about rational answers because you didn't want to feel stupid for answering the call when you knew you shouldn't have.

"Hello?" You answered.

"Hello, Y/N," the familiar voice said back. "You miss me?"

You should've known. Well, you did know; you were just stupid enough to think otherwise. "Fuck, no," then you hung up.

Instantly, you opened your contacts and went straight for Tara's number. But, then you remembered she was absolutely hammered which meant she probably wouldn't be much help in your situation.

You scrolled mindlessly until you landed on Ethan's contact, clicking on it instantly, seeing as he was someone you confided in the most. Mindy had already told everyone her plan tonight was to get shit-faced so you weren't confident in her being able to aid you in this; neither could you count on Anika as she would be with her.

It rang for a couple short seconds which felt like eternity for you, being panicked and all. You were relying on him answering because you weren't sure how long you had until something happened.

Luckily, he answered in confusion. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"E, I need you to come to my place now," you let out in a complete rush, the words almost slurred together.

"What?" he questioned. "Y/N/N, I can barely hear you. Are you okay?"

"Ethan, he called me. Ghostface called me."

The line went silent, only the sound of loud music and people hollering. That was until your phone began to vibrate against your cheek, startling you. You brought it down to your line of vision and saw it was the unknown caller. Or, should you say, whatever fucked up person that was behind the mask.

"Y/N, can you hear me?!" His voice came out in distress, worried something happened to you. "Hey, Chad and I heading over right now! Y/N?!"

"They're calling again," you stated simply.

"Don't answer it!" He was practically yelling into his phone at this point because he knew exactly what you were going to do. It was what almost got you killed in Woodsboro.

You didn't listen to him, deciding to hang up on him and use your remaining courage to answer the call. If you survived once, you sure as hell can survive again.

"What the fuck do you want?" You spat in anger.

"You hang up on me again and I'll paint your bedroom walls in your blood," they rushed out. "It would be a shame for your friends to find your mutilated lifeless body, wouldn't it?"

"Fuck you." You held back your wavering because although you weren't afraid, their descriptive threat made you nauseous.

"How about we play a game?"

"How about you fuck off."

"It's an easy game, Y/N," they told you. "You answer correctly and I may consider sparing your life."

You scoffed, getting up from your bed. "Fine. I'll play your stupid game."

"Great." There was a short pause. "Where in your apartment do you think I'm at?"

The confidence crumbled as now you started to feel the rising fear bubbling in your chest. "What?"

"You heard me," they said. "Where. Am. I?"

"Fuck," you mumbled to yourself. "Why don't you just come and get me, asshole? Are you too afraid?"

"The opposite." Their voice came out hushed.

Then, your bedroom door flung open, hitting harshly against your wall that it left an indent. Ghostface came running toward you, knife rose in the air, intending to plant it into your skin but you managed to dodge their attack, shoving them onto your bed as you made your escape.

You didn't get too far as they grabbed ahold of your ankle, making you face-plant into your wooden flooring. If the pain of hitting your head against the hard surface wasn't enough, the sheer agony rippling through your leg at the feeling of their knife digging into your calf was enough to make you scream. When they pulled it out, you grew enough strength to kick them in the face as you struggled to get up, finding all your energy diminishing.

Attempting to make a run for it didn't turn out well as you heard their footsteps catch up to you, causing you to throw yourself out of the way for their knife to go straight through the door.

Your apartment was pretty small. I mean, it only housed you and Anika so there wasn't much room needed which ultimately meant there wasn't anywhere else to go. Your kitchen was connected to your living room which was also connected to your hallway. It was all one open space. So, it was no surprise that they caught up to you again.

They managed to tackle you to the floor, holding you in place by stabbing you right where you had been previously, breaking through the stitches. You screamed so loud, you were concerned at the fact that your neighbors hadn't become suspicious at the sound. Where the hell was Ethan?

Them pulling out the knife hurt much worse, causing you to whine in return. But then they stabbed you in your abdomen once more, causing you to let out a choked sob. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to release the tension as you were physically helpless at this point. You reached down, feeling the blood coat your hand as you forced them to pull the knife out of you. Using whatever energy you had left, you kicked them off of you.

You used your entire arm to hold your wounds in place as you turned to crawl away. You weren't surprised to feel them grabbing your ankle, on the leg that had been injured which made it feel ten times worse, and drag you back to them. They flipped you on your back and stared down at you for a second until they began to raise their knife in the air.

Preparing yourself for the worse, you laid there with not much else to do, waiting to be punctured for what you assumed to be the last time ever. That was until they were thrown off of you by someone smacking them in the head with the wooden cutting board Anika used to cook you two dinner. Your eyes felt heavy but you couldn't help but widen them when you saw a second Ghostface, staring down their accomplice instead of you. The sound of the wooden board clattering against the ground caused you to flinch.

The one who had previously been attacking you was shorter than this new figure. You began to crawl away again, seeing as this short distraction gave you that advantage. You were bleeding out quickly, but you didn't want give up just yet.

You made it toward your counter, glancing at them as it seemed they were having a silent conversation. That was until the shorter one attempted to attack the taller one, using their knife but they easily intercepted the stabbing by grabbing ahold of their wrist. The taller one tossed the other one carelessly against your bookshelf, causing all your shared books with Anika to fall at their collapse.

It was funny to think you were now more worried about your books well being than your own.

You cowered behind your counter, carefully watching them in total confusion. The fact one of them was defending you, which seemed to go against their whole purpose, had rendered you frozen.

There was one last silent mutual conversation until the one with the knife shook their head in what you assumed could've been anger before fleeing the scene. You followed their figure until it was gone with wide eyes.

Your breath hitched when the Ghostface that practically saved your life turned to look at you. They didn't come near you, or really move at all as they stared into your soul. There was noise coming from somewhere in the building which caught their attention, making them turn toward your door and run out as well.

You watched in surprise. What the hell just happened?

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #jack champion #scream #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x you #scream vi imagine #scream imagine

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kanmom51 · 7 months ago

Text

Public service notice

Remember how I said I haven't blocked you just yet @chaotickoalacat ?

Well, got your reply ask, and let me tell you this:

I'm really tempted to do it right now.

I am not going to answer this ask, more so because I know how you will be literally crucified in the comments not only for the utter nonsense you are spewing but the way you are doing so.

I will address a couple of things you are saying though. Because seriously dude, I'm in utter shock as to how you are actually able to come up with this stuff.

You believe MHJ? Really?

You tell me that because she created NJ then her saying that Illit are copying her then that's it? It must be true? She also said that BTS copied her concepts in the past, that true too? You are aware of the fact that she is all about the visuals and has nothing to do with the music part of things, right? Just checking.

And in the same breath you are also full on acknowledging that she was the one behind the BTS leaks, including the damaging leak of JM's private info.

So, let me get this straight, you have no issue in believing a person that is untrustworthy and moved to hurt your fave, as long as it suits your current agenda? Seriously? I kind of think that once untrustworthy always untrustworthy. Or in your world is it once untrustworthy sometimes trust worthy as long as what's coming out of their mouth is what I want to hear?

Btw, you most definitley showed your true colours with the whole "JK's fling" idiocy. Prey tell me what does it say about JM, or more so, what does it say about what you think about JM if he sticks by JK's side while JK, in your warped mind, is an untrustworthy copy cat cheater? You must think so highly of JM for sticking by JK's side when JK treats him like shit (according to your warped views).

And let me make my views clear as day here. JK did not copy JM nor is JK an asshole cheater that can't keep his dick to himself. Balloon busted for you, I guess.

And yes, we are both BTS fans (or are we? cause you seem to be a solo stan and not a fan of BTS the band and all it's members), but clearly you lack the basic emotional intelligence that someone who is mature enough and with some life and long term relationship experience has. Either you are very young and inexperienced or for some reason lack that healthy relationship experience. Because thinking so low of JK and yet believing at the same time that JM would stick around someone like that, yeah, there is something lacking in your life experience. Maybe no experience, maybe bad experience, maybe too much Kdrama watching experience. Whichever it is, please, do not try and compare us.

There is NO comparison.

You say that you don't view JM as a damsel in distress, that he is a strong person, stronger than JK seeing how well he did in the army. Let me start by saying what a load of bull (not the him being strong part, but the part where you claim you aren't out to 'save' him). He's strong when it suits you, which is when you want to prove he's better than JK and/or the others (I'll get into how disgusting and disrespectful that comparison you are making is in a second). But at the same time he, supposedly in your fantasy world, allows JK and the company to step all over him, to copy his ideas and creativity and to scorn him and mess around with others, and continues to play along with their game, of showing up for JK, going on trips with him, enlisting with him even after he's supposedly, again, been mistreated, disrespected, cheated on. I would kind of suggest that you make up your mind which is it?

As for this constant comparison with the others when it comes to their army service, I've been vocal about this in the past and I will say it again. It sickens me how disrespectful you are towards not only the other BTS members, each and every one of them doing their utmost best within their army placement, but it's disrespectful towards every single other SK young man that is doing their compulsory military service. How easy it is sitting on your comfy chair in the safety of your own home or wherever it is you are sitting, which isn't an actual war zone, behind your screen and keyboard, grading these young men that have left their lives behind for 18 months to enlist into active duty in a military that is at war with another country. Please have more respect not only for every single one of the members (each serving at their utmost best within their assigned duties) but also for all the other young men that are doing just the same. JM is amazing, he's assigned duties are utilizing his high level of intelligence and mathematical abilities. Kudos to him for excelling at it. But why is it so hard for you to say that and at the same time say the same about each and every other member? Why is there this need not only to uplift one, but to do so at the expense of the other, diminishing what the other is doing? This whole attitude is just so childish and stupid. And you know what? Like I said, it's disrespectful not only to the other members and to every single other soldier, but also to JM, who doesn't need to bring down the others to show just how amazing he is.

This is it. Let me make this as clear as day that even if I end my sentences with a question mark, it's a rhetorical question and not an invitation for your response. I will not reply to any more asks you might throw my way. Obviously you are intrenched in your ideas and opinions, as warped and unhealthy as they may be.

Good luck trying to save JM from the one person he is showing us all that he wants to spend every second, every minute, every hour with.

And good luck with it all when Jikook Karma strikes, cause it's coming and it's coming strong, and when it does come well, all those that lack the respect to either JK or JM, those who are willfully closing their eyes and ears to what they have been showing and telling us for years now...

...the day is coming when it can no longer be ignored.

#jikook #kookmin #minkook #jungkook #jimin #jm #jk #jikook karma

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lunarw0rks · 7 months ago

Note

i forgot what i wrote in the ask that got eaten tbh but anyways more valeria thoughts because i need her

OH WAIT I REMEMBER

thoughts about valeria coming home from a long day and using you to destress but the day also wasn’t easy on you and one of her degrading comments goes a little too far, hits a little too close to home.

her being the absolute master of reading body language, catches onto the slight shift in your demeanor before you can even safe word/signal out and everything comes to a complete stop.

and like the switch between the domme/intimidating persona and the one where she genuinely cares about you is night and day. before you know it, she’s hovering over you, cupping your face in her hands and scanning you worriedly.

maybe i just need to be comforted… i think being in her arms would solve 99% of my problems tbh

-🎧

(it's egregious how long it took me to respond to this and i apologize pookie.)

﹌﹌afab!reader. dialogue would be in spanish. implied, notorious purple strap, naturally.

valeria is used to tears, whimpers, even you— clawing at her even when you don't want her to stop. she's a seasoned dom by this point, and even more so when she finds that one special partner.

though she loves you more than anything, she still uses you to distress. and we all know she's got loads of stressors, so it's more often than not you're subjected to some rough play. all in good fun. you're pampered endlessly afterward. and of course, it's pleasurable for you.

but sometimes it's just too much.

like any other hard session, you're limp below her at this point. so many rounds that you've lost count, and you can't feel your limbs. only the nerves ablaze at the apex of your thighs. the sting of her strap abusing your cunt repeatedly, past the point of pleasure. it's only seconds before you register the discomfort— and even less before valeria slows to a stop.

"shit." she curses, "i'm sorry, amor. was i too much?" kisses along your wet cheeks to pry you from your dazed state, until you give her a nod, a look, anything. it'd be dumb of her to expect you to get words out right now, and she's able to read you like a book.

even quicker, she reaches for a towel (fresh, folded, and laid out beforehand) and smooths it along your sweaty skin, her hooded eyes trained on you through it all. wipes you clean and cares extra for any bruises or marks.

absolutely no sessions for at least a while after. insists on having the chef make you something filling and made with love, all while she's getting you in some flexible clothes and clearing her calendar for the next day.

#🎧 anon #valeria garza #valeria mw2 #valeria garza smut #valeria garza x reader #mw2 #call of duty #los vaqueros #kortac #rachel speaks

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angelyuji · 1 year ago

Text

the fanged man

yandere miguel o'hara x reader :)

you bumped into the wrong guy on your way to work :(

warnings! kidnapping! stalking! kinda implied noncon? breeding kink if you look super duper closely! miguel is scary! and i'm in love with his fangs! (you will definitely be able to tell) fem pet names for reader!

i'm in love with him and i need him in a way that is too graphic to describe!

you slam your apartment door shut in a hurry, “fuck, shit, fuck.” you rush down the steps, already late. ‘god, he’s definitely going to fire me now.’ your fuckass boss had told you if you were late one more time, you’re done. you feel angry tears well up, but by god’s grace, your bus was still at your stop. however, as you sprint down the street, eyes only on the bus, you slam right into someone. you’re on the ground just as fast and you see your bus speed away. you groan and look up, getting ready to cuss the person out. a man towers over you and you inch away. he was dressed in a tight shirt and baggy sweatpants, and usually you’re drooling over a guy like him, but something about him rubbed you the wrong way. maybe it was the way his hands were clenched into fists. or maybe the way he looked at you like he was going to eat you. “sorry.” you remember the horror stories you’ve heard from your friends about guys like him, and you decide to just let it go. figuring your safety is better than giving the guy a piece of your mind. he doesn’t say anything to you, scanning your face. he smiles and your eyes go wide. “do you have fangs?” he holds out a hand for you and you gingerly grab it. he helps you up.

“yeah, i do.” you quickly let go of his hand, a twinge of fear running through you. “sorry about getting in your way, sweetheart.” a smirk rests on his face and you back away.

“ha, it’s-it’s my fault.” you muster up a smile and take off, sprinting down the street. you can still feel his eyes on you as you run. you weave between the crowds of people and, somehow, made it on time. you burst in right a minute before your shift starts. your manager looks at you with an eyebrow raised before sighing.

“you’re technically not late.” you smile, proud and incredibly sweaty. “just go wash your face and clock in.” they sigh once more, exasperated. as your shift goes on, you can still feel the lingering feeling of his eyes on you. you look out the window when your shift was at a lull and see the shadow of someone standing near the windows. you look closer and the shadow smiles, fangs appearing, shining bright and white. you feel your body go numb and you couldn’t breathe, your coworker calls your name and you tear your eyes away from the window. when you look back, the figure was gone. you furrow your eyebrows and shake your head. as the shift comes to a close, you and your coworker close up.

“you okay?” they lean on the counter as you wipe down with a rag. you shrug, scrubbing off a hard spot. “come onnn, (y/n). you’ve been off all night.” they look at you, concerned.

you stop wiping and turn to them, “well… i bumped into this tall, creepy-looking dude on my way here. he had like fangs and he was like… 7 feet tall? and… i don’t know…. it feels like he’s watching me. you know?”

“you feel like you’re being stalked?” their face twists in horror.

“exactly!” you widen your eyes, feeling validated.

“oh my gosh, you have to go to the cops or something. that’s fucking scary.” they grab the rag from your hand.

“it’s probably in my head, plus what are they gonna do? they’ll laugh at me.” you groan, throwing your head back.

“at least let me walk you home or something.” you look back at your coworker, seeing their worry. you purse your lips.

“that’d be nice, but you live in the opposite direction.” you laugh, resigned. they look down, clearly in distress about your situation. “hey, don’t worry. it’s probably fine. i get creeped out by every grown man i meet.” you smile. they laugh and relent, telling you to call them when you get home. you close up and go your separate ways. you walk back home on edge, careful to avoid creepy alleyways. you hear the quiet noises of the city: cars, dogs, people talking. you pray that if anything happens, spiderman will save you. you swallow as you speedwalk back to your house. you quickly get back to your apartment, breathing out a sigh in relief. you lock the door and lean back, feeling the tension seep out of you.

“god, i was acting so insane for no reason.” you laugh to yourself. you feel around the walls for a light, but just as you flip the switch, something slams against you. a body corners you against the wall. you couldn’t scream, their hand covering your mouth. one hand presses against the door. as your eyes adjust to the light, you realize who it is, his mouth widens in a twisted grin. you can see his fangs peeking through and you feel your stomach drop.

“the fact… that you are absolutely no one in this universe,” he chuckles, “is truly my luck.” he breathes heavy. he leans his head on to your shoulder and you feel his teeth graze your shoulder, and your breath hitches. your eyes drift down and you see a costume almost similar to spiderman’s. he takes his hand off your mouth and wraps it around your waist, pulling you close.

“please, please, i don’t know who you are. i’ve never hurt anyone, please leave me alone.” you plead, tears pouring down your face. he chuckles and you can feel the vibrations with his chest pressed against yours. his face pressed deeper into the crook of your neck and you can feel his teeth digging into you, almost breaking skin. he takes a deep breath and moves away, still keeping you pressed against the wall.

“oh, pretty girl, beg.” he licks his teeth, as if taunting you.

you can feel yourself panicking, you couldn’t breathe, “what?” you choke out. the hand on your waist, moves up to your throat. he tightens his hand around your throat and you widen your eyes, you can feel his claws dig into the back of your neck and black spots dance in your vision. you struggle to breathe, clawing at the hand tightening around your throat.

“beg for your life.” he growls. he releases a little bit of pressure for you to take a breath.

“please, please, let me go. i’m begging you. please,” you sob and he chuckles again.

“god, you’re even cuter than i thought.” he murmurs. he lets go of your throat and pulls you into a tight hug. you try to push him off, but his claws dig into your back and you sag into him.

“please,” you whisper, “i have a family. i don’t know what you want with me.” you lean on his wide chest.

he pulls away, holding you by the waist, he pouts at you mockingly. “sweetheart, they’re not your family anymore. we’ll be starting a family.” your heart starts racing as you understand what he’s trying to say.

“no no no, please i’m not- i don’t-” he cups your face, rubbing your cheek with a thumb.

“you’ll grow to love me, you’ll give me the family i want.” before you could blink, the man digs his fangs into your shoulder. you scream as the pain hits and you can feel something flowing into you. he holds you as your legs collapse from underneath you. he holds you as your vision swims. “i’ll make you a good mother, pretty girl. everything will be alright, (y/n).” his voice carries you into the dark.

part 2

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mosneakers · 1 month ago

Text

Clementine: [staring at the screen in disbelief] This doesn't make any sense. She won… it's official. Kirsten: [with a heavy sigh] Well, I’ll be damned. You kids see the power you wield? You resurrected that Salas bunch, and now we’ve got a damn vampire in office. I'm telling you, it's that Darling family curse, it's no joke.

Salem: Yeah, no one's fucking laughing, mom.

Yellow: [Starts pacing, checking cell phone] Has anyone heard from Coraleye? It’s nearly 4 AM, and she hasn’t checked in. That’s not like her—especially after this long.

Donna, anxiously knitting on the sofa, turns to give her husband a loving glance, striving to keep her tone light and comforting. Donna: We needn't fret, love. She's likely off with Tycho, helping him get his mind off things like lovebirds do— hehe! Yellow: [Sighs] You’re probably right. I’ll give her more time before trying again. I do remember how it felt, being young and utterly smitten. [Grins and cheesily winks at Donna]

Salem: Disgusting.

Donna: You are! [Playfully sticks out tongue]

Seymour, thought to be asleep, croaks a laugh. Salem groans and leans forward, burying her head in her hands.

Out of nowhere, the Darling family landline rings, breaking the silence with a jolt. The unexpected sound causes even the family dog to yelp in surprise. Donna: Oh, heavens! It's alright, Mimsy, that's just the phone. Gave me a scare too; it hardly ever rings. Excuse me, I'll answer it.

Donna gently sets her knitting kit aside, then carefully maneuvers around the jumbled feet and dog, making her way to the foyer to tend to the ringing phone. Yellow tries his daughter’s cellphone once more, as Clementine nudges Salem with her leg. Clementine: What's wrong? Having doubts about resurrecting them? Salem: Of course not. Don’t be stupid. That was the only way I'd get you back. How was I supposed to know it'd get lead to this? She was so different all those years ago.

Donna, usually known for her bravery, suddenly cries out in distress from the foyer, causing Yellow to rush to her side, alarmed. Yellow: Donna, sweetheart! What's wrong? Who called? Donna: That was an officer from the city. We have to go pick up Coraleye right away! There's been a terrible accident. Yellow: What? What happened to her? Is she hurt?

Donna: She's safe, but it sounds like others may have been hurt, and she's rather quite shaken. They wouldn't elaborate, so I guess we'll learn more when we arrive. Oh! Let me just fetch my slippers!

Clementine: Shit, I’m pretty worried… should we tag along? Yellow: We’ll manage. Maybe you all stay here in case anything comes up here. Thanks, Clem. Mom— we'll be right back with Coraleye. Will you be alright getting Dad to bed? Kirsten: Yes, of course, hun. Just get my baby girl back home safe and soon.

Clementine: Ditto. Give her hugs and kisses for me. [Waits for Donna and Yellow to leave] What a crazy night. What do you think went down?

Salem: How should I know.

Clementine: Think it’s connected to Salas winning?

Salem: Most likely. And now that a psychotic vampire is in charge— this is just the beginning. Who knows what she's capable of?

Kirsten: You can say that again. How long is it gonna take before someone addresses that none of us mediums have been able to make contact with Jay Salas? I think the bitch killed her husband. Salem: Mom please, not now. Kirsten: Sorry! Just saying... I have my suspicions. Guess we'll save it for a later season.

Salem exhales heavily, clutching her scalp. Her gaze drifts to the glowing TV screen, where Tatiana's unsettling grin beams back, mocking her hesitation.

Salem: Ugh, fuck! I can’t believe I’m responsible for this fucking shitshow.

Clementine: [Brief silence, eyes transfixed on the screen] …You brought her into this realm.

Salem: …And I’m gonna have to take her out.

#ts4 #ts4 story #the sims 4 #sims 4 #MD4 #MD4season10 #Salem Darling #Clementine Darling #Donna Darling #Yellow Darling #Kirsten Darling #Seymour Darling #Tatiana Salas #Vampires #Brindleton Bay #md4s10finale

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aetherdoesthings · 6 months ago

Note

Can you do a Drabble with Zoro and a reader who never sleeps? Thank you in advance!

elo! one drabble coming up!

forethoughts: okay so i'm going to be offline for the next week, so apologies in advance for my future absence. i wish the version of zoro i wrote would've been with me when i was in school 😭. welp. enjoy!

notes: gn!reader, modern setting

“You’re an idiot.” You turned your head around and glared at your swordsman boyfriend leaning against the doorframe to your room. You refocused your attention back to your textbooks and notes, scribbling some things down.

“Shut up.” You muttered.

“It’s two in the morning. Why are you still up?” Zoro walked towards you, his hand threatening to close your textbook. You swat his hand away, your knuckles turning white.

“I have my exam in two days.”

“And?”

“I need to study.”

“You’ve been studying for the past week.” You let out a frustrated whine as Zoro tried to yank the pencil out of your hand and pack up your things.

“No! I need to study! I need to pass my exam! If I do well on this one, I’ll get all As in my gradebook, and I’ll be able to get a good GPA!” You scowl, glaring at Zoro. He held his gaze, furrowing his eyebrows. “You’re going to sleep. Staying up late is not going to help you get a good grade.”

“No! I still need to learn-”

“You don’t need shit.” Zoro closed your textbook, turning off your desk light as he hoisted your body up from the chair with ease, handling you like you were a feral kitten. You kicked and screamed and threw your hands around, trying to hit your partner.

“Nooo! I’m not ready! I’m supposed to find everything I need for my essay, then review my thesis and body paraphs and conclusion, then-”

“Y/N. Are you even listening to yourself?” Zoro placed both his hands on your shoulders, his gaze softening when he saw the distress in your expression. “Do you even think you’re going to study well in this condition you’re in? Do you think you’re even going to remember what you read now in the morning? You know your efficiency decreases when you get sleepy. We both know that.”

You looked down, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You really hated when Zoro was right. “I don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you do, you idiot. You have a choice to sleep and get some fucking rest for the sake of being healthy.”

“Well, I choose to study!”

“Bullshit. You don’t need to choose to study. Hell, why are you trying so hard for something you know you’ll ace?”

You were an academic powerhouse, always getting As on tests and exams without breaking a sweat. But that came with a downhouse. With every test you were always nervous and anxious about getting a better score than your last; everyone knew you as the kid who always got straight As, you didn’t want to disappoint them.

Zoro let out a sigh. He had been your boyfriend for as long as you began to stress about your performance and as long as you had been skipping on sleep in order to study. “Okay. What’s it this time? Essay?”

“Yes.” You responded, rubbing your temples. “About imperialism.”

“Okay. And what about this is making you stay up until two to study?”

“...I’m just scared I’m going to forget everything on the day of the test, and my planning will be for nothing.”

Zoro stayed silent, your hands in his as he rubbed small circles on your thumb. “Why don’t you tell me about your thesis?”

“How is that going to help?” You stared at your boyfriend with an incredulous look.

“Humor me.” Zoro rolled his eyes.

“Fine.” You sighed, lying down on your bed. Instantly, your eyelids grew heavy, threatening to fall and shut forever. You fought against your body’s desire and opted to open your mouth. A river of information and words flowed out of your mouth, not stopping for oxygen once. Zoro sat on the bed next to you, playing with your hair and rubbing small circles on your scalp, patiently listening to you yap and go off about imperialism.

You finally took a deep breath after minutes, looking at your boyfriend with a tired look. Zoro snickered, an incredulous look on his face. “And you’re scared that you’re going to forget all of that? That entire, what, ten minute speech?”

“I might!” You retorted.

“No, you’re not.” A small confident smile was on Zoro’s face as he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. “You know your stuff. You sound like you know your stuff. If you can tell me all that, how can you ever forget the test? Even more, why would you need to study more when you can go off about whatever you’re talking about for ten minutes?”

Zoro smiled, his hands placed on your cheeks. “You know you know your stuff. You know you have prepared a lot. You know you have put effort into studying and have everything you need. Just believe in yourself, Y/N. You got it. You know what you need to do. And you know you’re going to do damn well on that stupid essay. If not, just tell me, and I’ll pay your teacher a visit.”

“Zoro!” Your cheeks flushed at his last sentence. “You can’t just beat up my teacher because they gave me a bad grade!” “Why not? They gave you a bad grade. That’s a perfect reason to beat them up.” Zoro shrugged, a grin on his face. “You know your stuff, you idiot. You know everything you need to know. There’s no point staying up if you’re just going to read a boring text over and over about something you already know. Now get your ass to bed before I beat you up.”

“Okay.” You let out a chuckle, knowing Zoro wouldn’t really go through with his threat, but still obliged your boyfriend’s orders, slipping under the blankets next to him. “Zoro?”

“Hmn?” Zoro looked down, his fingers in your hair. “Do you need something?”

“...Thank you.” The corner of your lips tugged upwards as you planted a tiny kiss on his chin.

Zoro grinned at your words. “Anytime, darling. Go get that A for me, alright? You got this.”

#one piece #op #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #academics #aetherasks

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magics-neptunes-things · 4 months ago

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Is tusa mo cheann eile

Hi guys!

This a McFoord one, from a request that you can find here :)

Once again, it's just a fiction and no hate towards anyone!

And please enjoy ♥

TW: Injury

“Katie, I’m hot, sticky and I can’t even breath” Caitlin says softly smiling.

Katie groans, tightening even more her arms around Caitlin’s hips. They are tanning on a beach in Mallorca, where they are enjoying their holidays together, before going back to camp. They are having a good time honestly; the hotel is amazing and there is a lot of things to do. Even if Katie’s principal want is to tan as much as possible.

“You will have tanning marks” Caitlin smirks.

The Irish sight dramatically and roll on her back on the lounge chair they are sharing. Katie has always been cuddly with Caitlin since the beginning, bit several days before they had that stupid rumor about Katie cheating on Caitlin in front of dozens of people. The forward didn’t really understand what was happening when she received a call from her girlfriend at 8 in the morning, with that said girlfriend freaking out so much that none of her words was understandable.

With a lot of patience, she managed to unravel Katie’s sentences and understand what was going on. There are pixelized pictures of Katie in a Nightclub with some of her friends and people are saying that she kissed two of them, but she swears that it’s not true and Caitlin has to believe her because she would never do a thing like that even if she’s on the other side of the world and – that’s when Caitlin interrupted her.

She believed her and when she was facing those pictures later, she knew she made the right decision. We literally can’t see anything, apart from Katie leaning in the direction of her friends to be able to hear them correctly. Sadly, they received so many messages from everywhere that Katie needed to post a video to ask people to stop being shit.

It broke Caitlin’s heart to see that video, Katie looked so tired and done with everything and she wasn’t here to hug and comfort her. She had things to do in Australia and that’s why she stayed, while Katie needed to go back in London.

The next time they saw each other, except for multiples FaceTime, it was when Katie came to take Caitlin and her sister and her girlfriend to the airport. Jamie, Caitlin’s sister, and her girlfriend were clever enough to stop to a shop to buy something only to let Caitlin and Katie alone for a little bit.

Caitlin can’t remember if Katie already hugged her so hard, but she only understands the distress of her girlfriend when she faced her. Katie will admit to Caitlin several hours later that she was scared that Caitlin would change her mind and that she will finally not come here.

It was four days ago, and Katie seems to be way more relax, but she’s still glued to her girlfriend every single minute of the day.

The Irish finally sits to look at the sea while Caitlin was peacefully sipping her drink. They are alone today, Jamie and her girlfriend left for an excursion early in the morning.

“I think I want to learn how to surf” Katie suddenly says.

“Do you?”

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll go ask to the teachers right there” she add, pointing the said people.

“Hell to the no.”

Caitlin sits in the chair too, looking very upset with that idea, much to Katie’s misunderstanding.

“Your girlfriend is Australian my dear, do you really think I would let those clown teach you how to surf?”

Katie chuckles softly, looking at Caitlin.

“You want to teach me?”

“Of course I will. The only think you will ask those people is if they will be ok if we borrow one board and two surf wear.”

********

Later this afternoon, they are somewhere on the beach with a board and both wearing surf wears. Caitlin is teaching her the basics, stand up on the board, on the sand.

Thanks to Katie’s sporting abilities, she manages to make the right gestures in the right time pretty easily. She was already glad to have Caitlin as a teacher because she was really patient and seeing her molded into her suit is pretty amazing. Even if she’s able to see her with way less clothes.

But when Caitlin decides to correct Katie’s position on the board, Katie is even happier.

“Ok now” Caitlin says, taking her by her waist from behind. “You have to turn your body like this.”

With a smirk, Katie let her move her body likes she wants, looking at her over her shoulder. Caitlin was concentred on her task, but she feels her girlfriend’s gaze immediately.

“Don’t start” Caitlin says with a smile.

“I haven’t said anything.”

The Australian girl rolls her eyes but keeps her hands on Katie’s waist, positioning her body like she wants. She tries to keep Katie’s flirty teasing at bay at first, but she soon let it go and decide to play too. Her hands stayed on strategic but unless place, like Katie’s bum.

They ignore the potential fans around them, or the curious people watching them. Katie seems happy and that’s all matter for Caitlin right now.

“That’s the real reason why you wanted to be my instructor isn’t it?”

She smiles when she sees Caitlin’s guilty face. The girl is pretty calm and thoughtful in everyday life, but she definitively has a possessive side who comes out from time to time. Katie loves it, Caitlin never accused her of anything or never shout at her. She just makes sure that no one is looking or touching Katie in a way that is reserved for her.

“People don’t have to touch you like that” the Australian growls.

Katie smiles and kiss Caitlin’s cheek softly, taking advantage of their position, Caitlin is standing right behind her, her arms on her waist.

They manage to keep the flirting down after that to let Katie learn anything needed before going in the water. Caitlin has to admit that her girlfriend isn’t bad. She managed to stay on her board for several seconds when they tried to go in the water for the first time.

“You were definitely Australian in another life Katikat” Caitlin shouts just before her girlfriend falls on the water, splashing water around.

********

Several weeks after, they were back in national camps. For an unknown reason, Australia decided to attend a game against Ireland just before the Olympics, a game to try some combinations and things for real. A game is always different from training, everyone knows that.

Of course, the fans went crazy and looked forwards to see another complicated moment between Katie, Caitlin and Ruesha. Katie managed to avoid Ruesha as much as possible during training, even if it means that she can’t be as much as she wanted with some of their teammates. But the McFoord couple didn’t talk about this reunion, deciding to just ignore it.

Last time Ireland and Australia played against each other, Caitlin and Katie weren’t out for the rest of the world, even if Ruesha behavior kind of out them. Now though, they don’t hide anymore even posting pictures of themselves during their holidays or free time. They both appear in each other photo dump, but they are always together so it would be hard making thing in another way.

And some paparazzi and fans catch them during Katie’s surfing attempt during their holidays.

Even Katie’s mom started to post pictures of Katie and Caitlin on her Facebook page. Which always amused Katie so much because her mom is the caricature of people about her age and social media.

“How are you feeling?” Mackenzie asks Caitlin the day of the game.

“Fine” Caitlin shrugs, leaning against the wall of her cubby.

“Fine to fight against your girlfriend and her ex-fiancée?” Macca smirks.

“I’m not afraid of her” Caitlin answers honestly. “She can bark all that she wants, it won’t change things. And for Katie, we talked about it. We will fight for our teams, not against each other.”

“You are wise women”

Caitlin rolls her eyes with a smile. She knows that Mackenzie doesn’t want to be mean and that she’s just checking on her. Which Caitlin appreciates really much, even if people say that she’s thirdweeling Alanna and Mackenzie’s friendship, they both care for her.

“Just scores and I’ll take care of the rest” the goalkeeper says, before pinching her cheek.

Caitlin slaps Mackenzie’s hand playfully. It was a friendly game without any important issue. They were using their Olympic team though, wanting to have time to make some adjustments.

Ireland wasn’t already here when the Matildas came to line up before entering on the field. Caitlin distracts herself by remembering the last recommendation of her coach, moving softly to stretch and keep her muscles warm. She was still doing it when she hears a bunch of conversations full of Irish accent and she instinctively turns herself to them.

Katie smirks at her when she passes next to her and Caitlin smiles back. Being in camp means not to be able to see her girlfriend during long days, but at least they were on the same time schedule this time. Australia is training in Greece this time. They don’t say anything to each other, but Caitlin can’t help but look at Katie’s silhouette in front of her several times.

She completely ignores Ruesha, even if she feels like she can feel her eyes burning her head from behind. She chooses not to put the most interest on this information.

She hasn’t thought about shake Ruesha hand or not but decides to go for fist bump with everyone. She smiles at Katie’s teammates she knows better than the other and when Ruesha ignore her fist, she just bumps her arm. Alanna saw it and teases Caitlin about it when they go in their part of the field.

“She’s resentful” the blonde comments.

“I don’t care. I know I have done nothing wrong about the whole situation” Caitlin shrugs. “Her not being ok with it won’t change the fact that Katie moved on from her”

“Cheeky.”

The Arsenal’s girl rolls her eyes with a smile, before being called for the picture. Katie and Caitlin exchanged a last smile before switching in full game mode.

The game went pretty great for Australia, they are winning from one goal, but the different issues have been working in for the second part. The first goal was scored by Mary with an assist from Caitlin, taking advantage of Ruesha.

She can’t help but smile during a freekick, when she feels Katie’s presence behind her. It reminds her about the scene from the World Cup.

“Keep your hands for yourself, Captain” Caitlin teases while Steph was getting ready to shoot.

“You’re hot. Can I have your jersey, your number and your body after the game?”

Caitlin laughs softly. She can hear Katie’s smirk in her voice, she doesn’t even have need to turn to know it. Katie’s lame flirting always makes her cry laughing, but she needs to stay focused for now. She knows that it’s a teasing tentative from Katie to distract her.

They don’t score from the corner, but around the seventy minutes, Caitlin is running almost alone to faced the goalkeeper, after receiving a great ball from Kyra. She just have to pass the goalkeeper, which she does easily. It made 2-0 for them and she smiles at her teammates when they come to congratulate her.

“Ruesha is getting pissed” Mini comments.

Caitlin throws a look at her. Mini is right, but it’s not her business, right? It’s the second time that Caitlin passes her pretty easily, the first time she managed to assist Mary’s goal. Katie seems pretty gutted too, but not as angry as Ruesha.

The Australian’s girl keep focused on the game though, playing and wanting to test every things they tried during the training sessions. The Olympics were really important for each girls in the team.

Almost five minutes later, almost the same scenario is happening. Caitlin’s running to catch a long ball from Michelle this time with only Ruesha covering her. She’s faster than her, Caitlin knows it.

The next actions went pretty quick, she was running a second before being tackle from behind, Ruesha’s studs trapping her ankle between them and the ground. The pain is so strong that she can’t even shout, only able to grab her ankle tightly and hide her face on the grass.

She’s not aware of what was happening above her, Alanna grabbing Ruesha by the collar of her jersey to push her as far as possible from Caitlin, nor Mini and Hayley screaming at her, passing in full protective mode.

Steph is kneeling next to her, her hand on her back, saying things to her that she doesn’t really understand. Caitlin’s scared. Her ankle hurts like hell and the Olympics are in only several weeks. She groans when she feels someone touching her feet and slap their hand away. Kyra chuckles makes her come back a little on earth.

“Let the medical team look at it, Girl” Kyra comments.

Caitlin rolls on her back, trying to keep her breath steady. She hides her face in her arm, letting the nurse working on her feet.

“Should I let Katie kill Ruesha or are you against the idea of going to meet her in jail with oranges?”

Steph’s voice is calm, but there is a hint of amusement behind it. Caitlin turns her face in the field’s direction, just to see her girlfriend roasting Ruesha. Their others teammates look to scared to intervene.

“She doesn’t like oranges” Caitlin mumbles.

“Mh. I’ll go then.”

Steph gets up and Caitlin sights, closing her eyes again. She wishes Katie could come to her, but she feels a little stupid about it too. She feels like a kid wanting her mum when she’s hurt to bring her comfort. Kyra’s arm stroking is nice, but she’s not Katie.

“Can you look at her feet out of the pitch?”

The referee came after several minutes while Caitlin’s foot is now outside of her socks and boot.

“I’m almost finished” the nurse answers, before looking up when the referee left. “Your girlfriend is looking at me with some intensity” she adds.

Caitlin turns herself this time, searching Katie. She’s closer than she thought, standing only two meters away from them.

“She’s worried” Caitlin mumble, wincing when the nurse turns her foot in an uncomfortable position.

“Right. I don’t think there is something broken but it would been better for you to get sub of.”

Caitlin sighs and nod. It was a friendly after all and she already scored during the game. She gets up with the nurse’s help, trying to put some weight on her foot. After having hesitate for longs minutes Katie finally decides to come for her.

“You alright?” she asks quietly, escorting Caitlin out of the pitch.

“I will be.”

They share a look and Katie nods, sighing softly before going back in her place in the pitch. Caitlin goes sit on the bench to watch the end of the game and when she comes back on the pitch, she’s with crutches.

Katie goes straight for her, congratulating opponents and teammates on her way, but her eyes are on Caitlin every second of her journey. She passes a protective arm around Caitlin’s waist when she finally reach her. Katie searches for Caitlin’s eyes, scared to find some anger towards her.

“Hi” Caitlin just says, and Katie’s eyes automatically goes for her ankle.

“What did the doctor say?”

“Nothing is broken. It’s probably sprain, I have to get some scans in the morning.”

Katie nods and they are soon joined by Steph and Kyra, their teammates at Arsenal. If they were alone, Katie would most certainly have wrapped Caitlin in a protective embrace, but they aren’t. Other people came to join the small group that they formed, and all this little people talk happily.

“Katie” calls suddenly Caitlin.

The Irish woman look away from the conversation she wasn’t listening at all to put her attention on her girlfriend. Caitlin’s blue eyes are looking straight at her, and the exchange last several seconds before Caitlin talks again.

“Come on, we need to talk.”

Katie feels her stomach dropping somewhere in her feet, but still nod and follow quietly Caitlin. The Tilie takes her in the tunnel to go to the locker room, Caitlin walking slowly because of her crutches.

But, unlike what Katie was expecting, Caitlin doesn’t start the conversation with hard words. She’s in fact so surprise about the hug Caitlin gives her that she needs several seconds to pass her arms around Caitlin’s frame in return. The Australian is holding her tight, her face in her neck and the Irish is a little lost.

“I’m not mad at you” she finally whispers.

Her breath makes Katie shivers and when she looks at her again, Caitlin can see how much relieved Katie is.

“It’s not your fault. I don’t even know if Ruesha did it deliberately.”

Katie shrugs, not knowing it either. She can’t say that if her ex lost her mind at some point, if she meant it or if it was bad luck.

“I can look for the answer if you want to” Katie frowns.

“Nah. If I have the right to be possessive a little bit, I would rather you being as far as possible from her.”

“You have all the rights you want”

Katie has the time to see Caitlin’s smirk, before she passes her arms around her neck to kiss her.

“I missed you” the Aussie whispers against Katie’s lips.

“I missed you too”

They know they won’t be able to be at home together soon again, Caitlin needs to go to Paris for the Olympics. But right now, they are together and that’s what is the most important.

“Do you think I could come tomorrow for the scan?”

“I don’t see why you couldn’t” Caitlin shrugs. “Don’t you have training or team meeting?”

“No, we are free until Monday”

“Just like me” Caitlin smirks “Can I maybe sneak in your hotel room tonight?”

Katie makes a slight grimace, making Caitlin arch an eyebrow, until Katie talks again.

“Maybe it’s better if I am the one sneaking in, don’t you think?”

There is a beam of silence, before Caitlin smiles softly.

“Yeah, you might be right here.”

They hope not to be caught, but if that’s happen it’s probably better if it’s by someone like Sam Kerr or even Kyra than Ruesha. The girl left the pitch as soon as the game was finished, not wanting to talk to anyone. She received a yellow card for her tackle on Caitln, depriving her to play the next game.

They didn’t have to face her, even when Katie hurry to go take her shower to be able to go back to her girlfriend as soon as possible.

She will be able to go to the scan with Caitlin, where they learn that the Aussie will be able to start playing in two weeks again. A miracle in Caitlin’s opinion. But at least she will be able to see Katie wearing her jersey during every game and she doesn’t think that already she find her so attractive.

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso one shot #katie mccabe x caitlin foord #caitlin foord x katie mccabe #katie mccabe #caitlin foord #caitlin foord imagine #katie mccabe imagine

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morganbritton132 · 2 years ago

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I love that Eddie is a craft guy! It just makes so much sense. Do you think he's one of those people who is CONSTANTLY doing a new craft and their house is just littered with Eddie's crafts, and he's always making little hand made gifts for Steve, the party and the band? I can totally imagine Steve coming home and the house just being in total disarray and Eddie's just like "I made a bird table and i personalised all your coffee cups :))"

Eddie Munson and the ADHD urge to start a new project before you finished the last one.

Despite Eddie’s big personality and the joy he gets galivanting across cafeteria tables and award show stages, he is very much a homebody. His favorite places growing up was his bedroom, Gareth’s garage, and the drama room where he hosted D&D. Then he went on tour and when the shows were over, he just wanted to be home.

He liked being able to strip away the Eddie Munson persona, sit down, and channel all the ideas in his head into a creative output.

Honestly, making money just made it worse. He can afford shit now.

Steve’s the opposite though.

Steve likes to be out of the house. He was a kid that lived in a big house with parents that never wanted to see or hear him, sometimes year-round sports were the only thing keeping him sane. Once Eddie made it big and was touring, Steve was once again alone in a big empty house and so he found things to do.

He meets up with Robin at least once a week to get dinner and drinks, and sometimes they go dancing or they sing karaoke. Him and Dustin meet up semi-regularly to catch up. He was a part of their neighborhood walking group before Diane annoyed him out of it. He goes bowling with some teachers from work occasionally and takes a pottery class that he sucks at. Him and Max are a part of a trivia team that has only ever succeeded at being the drunkest team in the game.

So, the combination of ‘Steve is 90% of my impulse control and he’s not here right now’ and ‘If I don’t create something, I will die’ means that sometimes Steve comes home to a new windchime or a questionably made bird house.

Sometimes he comes home to Eddie embroidering one of his jackets by hand even though he bought an embroidery machine that he has never used. Other times, he comes home and Eddie has carved every bar of soap they had into a little fucked-up guy or he found a recorder and wants to play Steve a song.

Or sometimes, Steve returns home from the cooking class he’s taking at their local community center to beads. Beads everywhere.

Beads in the carpet. Beads on the hardwood. Beads in their shoes by the stairs. Beads everywhere.

Steve – who is pretty Type-A about their house being clean and organized because he has a shit memory and needs to be able to find things – very calmly sits aside the ravioli that he made and says, “Eddie, what the fuck?”

“I dropped them.”

Steve makes a gesture like ‘yeah, no shit’ and then just makes a distressed noise, but Eddie waves him off as he dumps a handful of beads into the good punch bowl that they use for parties, “Don’t blame me. Your cat tripped me. I nearly brained myself.”

“She’s only my cat when she’s bad,” Steve sighs, sitting down to help pick the beads up. “Why do you have beads anyways? Since when do we have beads?”

“Do you remember those beaded lizard keychains?” Eddie asks, and then when all he got was silence. “I’m going to make you one…after we pick up two thousand pony beads.”

Steve makes another noise that’s somewhere between ‘you’re causing me actual pain’ and ‘I love you so much it makes me stupid’ and Eddie grins at him. He gestures to the punch bowl and says, “Stevie, think about it. Once we fill this bad boy up, we can separate the beads by color. That’ll be fun, right?”

“…Yeah, I’d actually really like that.”

#Steve is a bar of soap guy and it’s the worst thing about him #Meanwhile Joan is doing her damnest to make her dads spend quality time together #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson #joan the disservice cat

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dragonbreath-drinker · 1 month ago

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holy shit. Holy SHIT holy shit HOLY SHIT.

I watched a playthrough of Mouthwashing. All I can say is holy fucking shit.

Honestly, its better to stay unaware as to what this game is unless you have an EXTREMELY strong stomach. Even watching a playthrough/explanation is.. enough to drive me to this. Heavy spoilers ahead.

MASSIVE TW: Suicide, human torture, vomit, murder, gore, cannibalism of rotting decaying AND actively alive human beings. I can't find words to do it justice. It's horrifying and, while this wouldn't technically be a "correct" term to use, traumatic.

I felt like crying and throwing up multiple times. I wanted to scream and claw my way out of my own flesh. I felt as if I was experiencing it, and it was agonising.

This is, truly, the most viscerally horrifying indie horror game ever. To the point where it's.. not something you'd want to replay or rewatch, to put it extremely mildly.

The twists, the storytelling are amazing but as I type this I clamp my mouth shut to prevent vomit spewing out of me. It's very low-poly on purpose, yet the pure terror in the crewmates eyes, the screams of excruciating pain coming from Curly who sacrificed EVERYTHING, leaving himself permanently unable to walk, talk, blink or swallow, with his entire body made purely of burned red flesh, haphazardly wrapped in gauze with Oxycodone thrown down his throat intermittently to stop him screaming as Anye repeatedly breaks down from the mere sight of it, crying and crying to the point she considers suicide before dying from complications of unsupported pregnancy [edit: turned out she shot herself, it wasnt the pregnancy] while extremely malnourished and distressed, creating a stillborn and bleeding to death herself. Swansea was shot by Jimmy. Jimmy lied, lied about everything, before cowardly shooting himself and forcing Curly (remember, the guy in chronic 999/10 pain whos barely able to breathe without assistance WHO HAS BEEN FORCED TO CANNIBALISE HIMSELF OR FUCKING STARVE) to go into the cryogenic freezer in vague, vague hopes someone will get on that run down ass ship to find decaying corpses in utter terror before stumbling across an utterly bereft former Captain who used to be admired by all.

This is the type of shit I'd have in a fever nightmare.

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing game #captain curly #jimmy mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #reviews

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uvobreakmylegs · 2 years ago

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Outbreak

didn’t mean to post a fic this big but i didn’t want to cut another fic in half again so here’s a massive Phinks fic

Warnings: death, graphic depictions of violence, gore, blood, suicide, torture, threats of violence, reader goes through traumatizing shit, Phinks is callous at points but never goes yandere

Word count: 14.8k

If you'd been outside at the start, when everything went to shit and chaos erupted in the city, you probably wouldn't have made it for as long as you did. Actually, you'd have probably been one of the first ones to go. You didn't always have the greatest reaction times, and the shock of it all probably would've caused you to stand around like an idiot and make you an easy target.

It just so happened that you'd been inside when the sirens started blaring and the screaming in the streets echoed against the buildings and made their way to the windows of your apartment.

You'd been confused as you watched people running in the streets below, watching as they pulled loved ones behind them as they ran, as more people who had been sitting in their cars in the completely stopped traffic opted to exit and take their chances out in the open, and as many others were willing to push those who were weaker than them to the side, even throwing them to the ground in some cases in some attempt to make sure what was coming would get those who had fallen first.

Beyond your front door and inside the halls of your apartment building, you could hear people panicking as they noticed the growing chaos outside and came together to try and figure out what was happening.

Although you could hear your neighbors, you stayed by the window, unable to do anything but watch as you heard the screams from below becoming more distressed.

And then you witnessed what everyone was running from.

There was a man within the crowd who seemed normal at first glance, but when you looked closer, you found that he seemed calm compared to the panicking people around him. And though it was hard to tell with the distance from the upper floor where you were standing, it looked as though there were many black veins running along his body that were visible through his skin.

The last thing you were able to note was a black substance that was dripping from his mouth.

A woman stumbled in front of him, and that was when the man surged forward and sank his teeth into her neck, holding her so she couldn't get away while she screamed, beating her hands against him and when that didn't work, weakly begging for help from those around them.

Those cries soon ended, and when the man pulled away from her, you saw that her veins were becoming blackened as well, slowly darkening as whatever the substance was spread throughout her body. And when the man walked off to grab someone else who was trying to run, that black substance began to drip from her mouth as well.

Then she attacked someone, biting into some poor person's arm and only letting go when the process had been repeated with them.

When you saw a few other people who had been bitten begin to enter your apartment building was when you broke out of your stupor and you attempted to put up a barricade in front of your door. While part of you felt that you should open your door to at least call out a warning of what was happening, the screaming that started up when you grasped the doorknob had you change your mind, and all of your energy went into placing furniture in your entryway and hope it would hold if anyone tried to get inside.

All you really remembered from that moment in time were the sounds that you could hear beyond your front door. As you stood there, watching the door at the far end of the room, you heard a lot that you wished you hadn't: the running of feet on the carpeted surface while voices exclaimed, some people running back to their apartments while others made a break for the floors above you. Doors were being slammed shut while others weren't able to, and the noises that followed were of panicked people that became overwhelmed by those things, screaming as their flesh was bitten into before that black substance entered their system and their screams stopped. And onto the next victim those things would go.

With both hands over your mouth, you managed to keep yourself quiet, and it seemed that was what had saved you. A few times there were moments when one of them grasped your doorknob and tried to turn it to get in, but the locks on your door prevented that. When you heard them stop and stay quiet, as though they were trying to listen for anything, you staying still and silent seemed to confirm to them that there wasn't anyone inside, and they moved along. Aside from those instances, there were no attempts made by those things to get into your unit.

It scared you that they were smart enough to know how the doorknobs worked.

Huddling next to your bed, you went to social media to see if anyone knew what was happening; with the absolute chaos going on both inside and out, someone needed to have posted something as to what was happening.

You got the answers you were seeking at that moment as you saw three keywords being plastered across social media:

Outbreak.

Infection.

Zombies.

The chaos carried on into the night, screams and sirens sounding out while you refused to move from the area next to your bed, as if the second you did move, those things would become aware of your presence and break down the door to get to you. That would be the absolute worst-case scenario for you, as there was no chance that you'd be able to fight them off.

Things were still chaotic even when the next morning came, and you hadn't been aware that you'd been sleeping until you were awoken suddenly by the vibrations in the walls that came when something crashed into the apartment building.

Keeping low as you made your way to the window, you looked down to see that it was a car that was now sitting halfway inside the building, a dark plume of smoke rising from the ruined engine compartment. The person who had been inside had gotten out but had been swarmed immediately by so many infected that you couldn't hope to count them all. With all of them grabbing and pulling, the person from the car screamed as they were slowly being torn apart, their skin and muscles separating as the zombies all grabbed at them, all wanting a piece of their poor victim.

The instant that person died, the zombies seemed to lose interest, dropping the collection of body parts and wandering off in search of new prey.

You kept low again as you made your way back to the side of your bed. That moment was when the unit that was directly next to you was broken into, and you were forced to listen as the family next to you were overrun. They screamed for help as they tried to fight off those things. There was even a pounding at the wall that separated your unit from theirs, as if there was anything you would've been able to do for them.

Putting your hands over your ears, you silently begged for everything to stop. For all of this to just be a horrible nightmare that you would soon awake from.

The screaming did eventually stop, but you weren't able to escape this situation as you had so desperately wished for.

It didn't feel like a scenario that could actually happen. An outbreak of some kind that turned people into machines that were only programmed to attack others. Sure, the idea was one that was pretty common in works of fiction as there were countless games, shows and movies that explored the concept of zombies, but it had always stayed firmly within that realm of fiction.

But now that idea was real and you were living it, and you needed to try and survive it.

Unfortunately you realized too late that you had wasted the first two days, as by day three the electricity went down, which meant you would need to eat what was left in the fridge before it went bad. In your efforts to keep quiet so as not to be discovered, you were only able to make a brief call to your family late on the night before. They lived in a completely different area that was far away from Ranier, and from what you had gathered in that brief time of talking to them, there wasn't anything like an outbreak happening where they were. It seemed it was this city alone.

They had wanted answers from you as to what was going on, but you weren't able to get much out before the connection suddenly died. After that, your phone couldn't make or receive any calls, and the internet was down, too.

Now you were completely cut off from the outside.

By day five all of the perishable foods had gone bad, and you left them to rot in the refrigerator as you rationed out the food in the pantry. Your meals for the days after that consisted of a lot of crackers and cold soup.

When a week had passed since the madness had started, there was still no sign of things ending. No military forces had entered yet as you would have expected, and the only ones who roamed the ruined streets were those things and the survivors that stealthily make their way from one point to the next. Every time you spotted one of them when you dared to peek out of the windows, you would internally cheer for them, and when they left the area you could see from the window, you allowed yourself to think that they had made it. That they had gotten to safety and told everyone what was happening and soon there would be rescue for you and anyone else that had managed to survive.

And in those few instances where you saw a survivor be attacked, you turned away and covered your ears, finding it easier to make up a scenario in your head that despite all of the odds, they had gotten away as well.

As much as you hated yourself for not trying to do anything for them, there was no way you would've been able to help. By the time you got down there, they'd likely already be dead. You'd be dead too if you went down there, you told yourself. If not by getting jumped by whatever was down there, then by leading those things back up to your unit. There were still attempts to get the front door of your apartment open, the doorknob wiggling as the lock held strong against the infected, but those attempts never lasted too long.

You didn't want to survive for this long just to die here, so you stayed quiet as you continued to wait for rescue.

By day ten the pantry was still mostly full, largely because you didn't have much in terms of an appetite and could barely make yourself eat at least once a day. Still, you tried to feel happy about it, that you didn't need to venture out to try and scavenge for scraps of food. Others probably weren't as lucky.

But as more days went by and there was still no sign of anyone coming for you, you wondered how much longer you would have before you would need to leave.

The thirteenth day was when you made your decision.

It had been an optimistic hope that rescue would be coming for you, and that the best thing to do would be to stay put until that happened. Clearly, it had been a bit too optimistic of a hope. It'd been, what, almost two weeks now? How could rescue be taking so long when you were in a city as major as this one? Sure, it wasn't Yorknew, but there was a large enough population here that the outbreak would've been noticed immediately.

Maybe it wasn't just this city that was affected, and that the infection was in the rest of the surrounding area, making it difficult for rescuers to get to the denser areas of the city.

But regardless of that, you knew you needed to leave. There was still enough food for now, but how long would that last? It would be a bad idea to wait until everything had gone completely before you went out searching for more. You also worried how much longer the building would hold up. Just yesterday, when you'd tried to get some water from the kitchen tap, the water was discolored with a bad odor and you weren't willing to drink it. If you stayed in here and ran out of food, you wouldn't even be able to survive on just the water. Who knew what sort of things were in it by now?

You put the things you were taking with you into a backpack, most of it being food, as well as a package of bandages that had been in your bathroom and a map of the city that you'd never needed to use until now. All of that, along with a few sentimental items that weren't essential but that you couldn't bring yourself to leave behind, were packed up and ready to go by noon. All you needed to do from here was pop open a window, let down the fire escape ladder your father had given you when you had first moved here and be fast.

Thinking about escape in your head was a lot easier than actually acting all of that out.

The outside was filled with uncertainties: though you could safely assume that the rest of the city was in just as bad condition as everything you could see from your apartment window, there was no way of knowing just how bad all of it really was. For all you knew, the entire world had ended up just like Ranier by now and there wasn't any escape to be had and you would end up just like everyone else. Which meant that the only two options you had were to go down and become infected sooner or later, or stay up here and eventually starve to death.

Despite your fear, you chose the first option.

It was hard to keep quiet as you ran, the sounds of your shoes on concrete echoing in the cramped alleyway while you breathed through your mouth as you pushed yourself to keep going. Keeping quiet was impossible in that moment, but if you wanted to escape those things that were shrieking as they chased after you, you'd need to give them the slip eventually and find someplace to keep quiet and lay low until they passed you by.

Getting out of your apartment hadn't gone all that smoothly. Since it seemed that the infected weren't as active in the later hours, you had waited until nightfall before you began to push open the window wearing your backpack and ladder at the ready so you could leave down the side of the building. Pushing it open to where it could fit you through it required using a bit of force, but you'd managed.

But it came at a cost as the window screeched horribly when you forced it open, and as soon as you tossed the ladder over the side, you heard a banging at your front door. The noise you'd made in forcing open the window got the attention of those things that were still in the apartment building. They knew you were in there.

With no other choice now, you descended.

You barely had time to take a look at your surroundings when you reached the sidewalk below – you saw the inside of the ground floor of the building and all of the infected that had seen you and were now rushing towards the doors and windows to get at you.

Precious seconds were eaten up as your foot was briefly tangled up by the ladder, but soon you were running along the sidewalk, your eyes darting about as you tried to find somewhere to try and lose the hoard that was now chasing you.

An alleyway entrance that seemed clear caught your eye and you ran in.

But they had seen where you went and were following after you.

Now you were running out of the alley and you barely managed not to trip over some upturned trash cans as you were forced to make a quick decision: right or left. To your dismay, more of those things were in the street, and they turned when they heard you and the commotion the ones that were chasing you were making.

Left it was, then.

More shrieking, more of those things chasing after you with the intent of turning you into one of them, and you forced yourself to keep running.

Not even a minute out of your safe haven and it already seemed like it was the end for you.

With the amount of noise both you and the infected were making, you must've been bringing even more attention to yourself. Brief flashbacks of the person who'd been swarmed outside ran through your mind: while scary, maybe it would be better for you to get torn apart. At least your body wouldn't be roaming the streets doing the same things to others.

Being torn apart sounded like a horrible way to go, though.

Just keep running, you told yourself. If you keep running maybe you can find something.

When you ran out of a different alley and onto a street that was littered with more abandoned cars, something happened.

You ran into someone.

Quite literally as you slammed into them after running out at full speed.

The first thought was that you had run into one of those things and now it was all over.

But when steady hands grabbed you and pulled you to the side, you managed to actually take in the appearance of the person who had caught you. You couldn't see a face, as it was covered by a helmet, but the insignia on the shoulder of the man's uniform meant only one thing:

Military.

Those things that had been chasing after you had now turned the corner of the alley you had initially run into, and you heard several shouts coming from other soldiers who were with the one who had caught you. They opened fire on them while the one who caught you pushed you to the side to join in. Stumbling back with your hands over your ears, your back hit an abandoned van parked on the street. You wondered briefly if you should keep running, in case the men couldn't handle those things, but when you looked back up you saw bodies falling, the bullets shredding through them as the soldiers slowly advanced.

They were doing it. They were really doing it. The military was stepping in to rescue survivors.

You sank to the ground in relief.

You'd be safe. Two weeks of this nightmare and it would soon be over for you. They'd extract you and you could go back to your family.

That thought had you doubling over as you tried not to cry, knowing that you needed to keep it together until you were somewhere safe. And as the gunfire ceased and you heard light banter coming from the men who had saved you, you hoped that would be soon.

You weren't paying much attention to them as you did your best to keep yourself composed, only hearing a small portion of the conversation that didn't mean much to you at first.

“We're heading through, but take care of things back here.”

“.... Really?”

“It's orders. Do it.”

Then there were footsteps heading towards you, and if you'd been listening close enough, you would've been able to hear the small sigh that the soldier had let out.

When those footsteps stopped in front of you, you looked up-

Right into the barrel of his gun.

The soldier, the one who had grabbed you earlier, was aiming his gun at you. You tried to understand the situation as you stared at him in shock. You had just escaped certain death; why was he doing this?

If your throat hadn't been so dry and you'd had the ability to form words, that would've been the only thing you'd asked.

Why?

His shoulders sagged slightly as he let out another small sigh.

“Sorry,” was the only response he gave.

And then he readjusted his grip on the gun, his fingers flexing slightly before he made a move to pull the trigger-

A shout came from the alleyway the rest of them had gone down, accompanied by someone being thrown into one of the building walls.

The gunfire that erupted after that caught the man before you off-guard, and he turned around as he tried to assess the situation.

At the sight of that, you snapped out of your stupefied haze as you recognized your chance to escape. But the firearm he carried and the fact that it sounded like there was more noise coming from down the alley made you reconsider trying to run for it. Instead, you dove beneath the van that you'd been sitting against, the underside of it high enough off the ground that you were able to squeeze in underneath.

Maybe he wouldn't know where you went. Maybe he'd figure it out fast and you'd still be dead.

But at least you wouldn't have just sat there and let it happen.

You kept your hands over your mouth as more shouting and gunfire sounded within the relatively enclosed space, and you watched the feet of the man who had been about to kill you go running off in the direction of the chaos.

It didn't sound like there were as many guns firing. But you also couldn't hear anything that sounded like those monsters. What was it that was taking out these men with seemingly little effort?

Eventually the noise died down, and all you could hear were gurgling noises that you assumed were coming from the soldiers before they finally succumbed to whatever wounds had been inflicted on them. No sounds of them stumbling off to join their attackers, so whatever had killed them must've been something else.

Then you heard the sound of footsteps, of someone walking closer towards your hiding spot.

You weren't breathing at that point. Your hands were clamped over your mouth as you willed yourself to stay completely still and not make a sound.

The footsteps stopped, and for a long while, everything was quiet.

“Hey.”

A chill ran down your spine. There was no one else on the street, you were certain. So whoever this was had to be speaking to you.

“Whoever's under there, get out here now.”

The man you heard sounded irritated. As much as you wanted to keep your hiding spot, he obviously knew you were there. Better to not make him angrier by pretending that you weren't.

“Please don't hurt me,” you said.

After spending almost two weeks not uttering a single word, it felt weird to be speaking again.

“Just get out of there already.”

Feeling like you had no choice other than to obey, you crawled out from beneath the van, trembling as you looked up to this new person.

A blonde man in a green tracksuit was looking down at you, and when you looked him over, you were surprised that he seemed to be unarmed. Hadn't he been the one to take out those military guys? Glancing at the bodies in the alley behind him confirmed that.

He had managed to do that unarmed?

He also looked surprised when he finally saw you.

“What, you're just a civilian?” he asked.

“Y-yeah,” you answered.

“Huh. Didn't think anyone like you would be left still,” he said.

“Anyone like me?” you repeated.

“A civilian who was in the city when all this mess went down,” he clarified, “you're the first person I've seen in a while who hasn't been taken over and isn't some jackass soldier.”

“Oh. Okay.”

You looked back to the bodies behind him, and you couldn't help but gulp at the sight of the men who'd been smashed into the pavement or had their heads turned completely around. How had he done all of that?

The man before you wasn't concerned with the carnage behind him, and he continued with his questions.

“Did you live here before this started?”

You nodded, explaining “I've been hiding in my apartment for a while. They didn't notice me because I kept quiet.”

“Hm. So it wasn't skill that had you survive this long then, just luck,” he said.

“I... I guess,” you said before you continued with “did you live here before, too?”

“No, I was just here for some business,” the man answered, “but obviously that fell through, and now I'm trying to get out of here.”

“Have you been out here all this time?” you asked.

“Yeah. I was hoping I'd be out of here by now, but between the infected people, those soldiers and the fact that I can't find a fucking map, it's going a lot slower than I'd like.”

He made it sound like it was just a minor annoyance, that he'd been surviving all this time since the outbreak started. Meanwhile you hadn't even lasted five minutes before running into a situation that could've easily ended your life had it not been for his intervention.

“What made you leave your apartment?” he then asked.

“Things only seem to be getting worse and it didn't seem like help was coming, so I thought it was a better idea to make a break for it,” you explained.

“You're gonna have a harder time doing that then you'd think,” he said, “government sent in the military, and those guys are combing through every street and shooting anything that moves.”

“But why? I haven't been bitten.”

“They don't care,” he answered, “in their minds, everyone in the city is a danger to the world at large, so it's easier to get rid of everyone instead of taking the time to go through and find the ones who might not be infected.”

“They.... They aren't going to rescue us?” you asked.

“No.”

“That's horrible,” you said.

He shrugged.

“That's the way people in those types of positions are,” he said, “they aren't bothering to figure out what's causing this, so they're playing it safe and getting rid of everybody.”

The man looked to the side, a frown forming on his face. You weren't sure what he was looking at, as when you followed his gaze, you couldn't see anything aside from the wrecked street and the small plumes of smoke that came from the buildings beyond.

He turned around, going back into the alleyway you'd come out of.

Was he leaving?

“Where are you going?” you asked, unable to keep the panic out of your voice.

“As much fun as I'm having chatting with you, I think it's best if I head off,” he said, “because of all the noise those assholes made with their gunfire, more of those things are headed this way, and even I'm getting pretty tired of dealing with them.”

He went to the end of the alley and stopped when he came to one of the bins that stood next to the wall. As he knelt down next to it, you watched him pull out what looked to be a messenger bag out from where it had been placed between the bin and the wall. He was mumbling something as he undid the zipper and looked at the bag's contents, seemingly making sure that whatever was in there was alright.

By this point you'd gotten to your feet and were hovering by the entrance of the alley, keeping your gaze on him and trying not to look at the body of the soldier that was laying next to your feet. You didn't want him to leave without you. Wherever he was going, you needed him to take you with him.

He returned to the alley's entrance, pulling the bag strap over his head as he turned his attention back to you.

“Go hide yourself before they come by,” he continued, “if they see you, they won't stop pursuing until they get you.”

Then he turned as if he was going to leave.

“Can I come with you?” you asked.

He didn't seem too surprised at your request as he let out a hum.

“I guess,” he said.

The noncommittal nature of that answer didn't make you feel very secure, but at least he was giving you the option of staying with him. An option that you quickly took once he turned away again and began walking. You chased after him, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

He looked back at you when you caught up to him.

“Don't be so loud,” he chided, “those things have better hearing than they have any right to.”

You nodded.

“Right. Sorry.”

You followed after him, trying to make as little noise as possible but doing your best to keep up with him. It felt like if he got too far ahead of you, he'd leave you behind.

Something that you noticed was that he was handling the messenger bag carefully. Like whatever was inside was fragile and he was worried about breaking it.

What had he mentioned? That he'd been here for business?

The two of you walked for a majority of the night, keeping to the dimly-lit areas where the zombies couldn't see you as easily as you made your way through the cluttered streets. It happened twice where some of those things spotted one of you and came running at you.

Your new acquaintance was ready for them, dispatching them as easily as he had with the soldiers, going through one by one and twisting their heads around completely. The only time he lost his composure was when one of them grabbed at the messenger bag, and he reacted by punching them so hard that they went airborne.

Whatever was in there must've been really important for him to be risking his life for it.

You didn't say that, however. You went back to being quiet, and followed behind him while doing your best to make as little noise as possible.

It was almost dawn when he made a turn and entered into what used to be an office building. You again followed along wordlessly. And you continued staying quiet when he found an empty room with a door that was still in good shape and closed it behind you. If you were to guess, you would say that you were right in thinking that it was safer to move around during the night. That was something, at least.

He sank to the floor after, sitting against the wall next to the door while leaning his head back against the wall. He seemed tired.

You followed suit, sitting across from him.

A few minutes passed before he spoke to you again, looking at your backpack as he asked “you got any food?”

You nodded, and after showing him your selection, he reached over and took a can of fruit.

“Sorry, I didn't think to grab anything to eat it with,” you told him.

“Hands work fine. It's not like dining etiquette is important right now.”

You nodded along as he pried open the can.

“I can only assume any grocery or convenience stores have been picked clean,” you said.

“Probably. Although there were a ton of those assholes both in and around places like that, so I don't know for sure,” he said, “I've been getting by on the stuff I've found in break rooms and people's apartments.”

“Wait, they know to hang around food stores?” you asked.

“I don't think it's that; they're just drawn to human activity. If there's a bunch of people making too much noise, they come running.”

“Like with the soldiers that were shooting at you?”

“Yeah.”

A few minutes later he'd finished up the can, placing it to the side before he crossed his arms and closed his eyes.

“I'm gonna sleep,” he told you, “stay awake and listen for anything weird. If something happens and I don't wake up, then you wake me up to let me know.”

“Okay.”

He didn't respond after you said that. You didn't bother saying anything else; he said he was going to sleep, and it'd be a really stupid decision to bother a guy who had proved to you multiple times in the last few hours since meeting him that he had no issue killing people.

With you having forgotten to bring some kind of clock along with you and your phone having been long since dead, you weren't sure how much time passed. You were at least able to tell when the sun had risen as you could see daylight shining beneath the crack at the bottom of the door. That gave you an approximate time, at least.

Every so often you'd see movement, however. Shadows that would temporarily block out the light as they passed by, some taking longer to leave than others. It wasn't hard to imagine those things out there, skulking about the ruined building as they searched for signs of human life.

You again kept quiet, and as your companion wasn't making any noise in his sleep, they would leave soon after.

Good thing it seemed they relied entirely on sight and sound to find their victims.

How had he been aware of them, though?

You looked back to him as you thought back to when he'd told you that there were zombies headed your way. You hadn't seen anything, but he was certain they were coming.

It was weird that he was somehow able to sense them.

He woke up not long after, stretching out his arms and cracking his neck.

“You didn't sleep for very long,” you said.

“Not a good idea to get into too deep a sleep,” he answered, “just needed a nap to recover a little strength.”

“You can sleep now, if you want. I'm not planning on moving again until it's closer to sunset,” he added.

“I'm not sure that I can sleep,” you said.

He shrugged as he said “suit yourself.”

A few moments of silence passed before you asked “what's your name?”

“Phinks.”

He didn't really say anything when you introduced yourself, and you got the feeling he already knew what you were going to ask of him.

Still, you needed to come out and say it.

“Can I keep traveling with you? At least until we get out of the city?” you asked.

He sighed a little bit.

“I'm not looking to take others with me,” he began, “the more people in a group, the more likely the chance of drawing attention to ourselves. And that's one of the last things I need right now.”

“Please. I don't think I can get through this on my own. If I stepped out there right now I'd be dead in five minutes,” you said.

He hummed in a way that made it sound like he agreed with you.

You breathed out a little as you tried to keep calm – getting desperate and loud wouldn't help you in this situation. You needed to convince him that you were worth going through the effort of protecting.

“You said you aren't from the city, right? And you're having a hard time getting out because you don't know what streets go where.”

“What about it?” he asked, “you trying to say you can lead me out of here because you know the layout?”

“No, I'm trying to say that I have a map, and I could give it to you.”

That seemed to get his attention.

“In exchange, I'd like you to take me with you when you leave the city. Obviously a lot of the roads are messed up, but most of the signs seem readable enough. We can figure out where we are and figure out where we go from here,” you continued.

“So you give me your map and I lead you out of here?” Phinks asked.

“Yeah.”

“Seems like a deal that does more for you than it does for me,” he said, “you got an idea of how to even that out, or was that the only thing you were thinking?”

“No.”

Actually yeah, it kinda was

“Then what else?”

In the few seconds you had to formulate a response, you spotted the messenger bag sat beside him and, remembering how carefully he'd been handling it, pointed to it.

“I'm guessing whatever's in there is important?” you asked.

He didn't answer, but his expression told you that you were right.

“Since that does seem like it's pretty important, how about instead of you worrying about it possibly getting destroyed when you're fighting the infected or the military, I hold onto it for you.”

“So you'll be keeping it safe while I keep you safe?” he asked, adding “it's not like you'll be able to do much against anything. I'll still need to protect both you and it.”

“Yeah, but unlike whatever's in your bag, I can run.”

He hummed, and then said nothing more.

Moments passed where he didn't say anything, and he looked to the messenger bag before looking back to you, going over your proposition in his head. You were praying to whatever deity might listen that he'd take you up on your offer. It was still uneven, as he'd be doing a lot more for you than you could do for him, but it needed to sound a little bit worth it, right?

It occurred to you then that he could always kill you and ransack your backpack for your food and map.

….. Please don't let him think of that.

Then he spoke.

“Well, you aren't too annoying, and I guess one extra person wouldn't be too much of a hassle. So fine, I'll take you with me.”

Relief washed over you as he pulled the bag onto his lap. Unzipping it, he pulled out from the bag a small, rectangular box that had the same dimensions as a book. He held it up so you could get a look at it.

“This is the reason I was here in the first place,” he explained, “we're selling a bunch of stuff from our last job, and I was meeting up with the buyer for this one here. Obviously, shit happened and the buyer got taken over, so I've got an expensive book that needs to get back to my group.”

“Keep this safe, and I'll get you out of here,” he finished.

You looked at the box, and then back to him.

“That's something that's important?” you asked.

“Extremely.”

“What is it?”

“The only known copy of some ancient book,” he said, “the only reason my boss was willing to let this one go was because the buyer was gonna give us a shit-ton of jenny for it.”

“And you really won't leave me behind if I have that?”

“If I tell my boss that I left this behind for a fucking map he'll be pissed,” he said, “this thing has to get out of here unscathed.”

He placed the box back into the bag and looked back to you.

“You do actually have a map, right? You weren't lying to me?” he asked.

“I'm not gonna lie to the guy who can kill me with his bare hands,” you answered, going through your backpack before you found the map in question.

“Here,” you said, holding it out to him.

He grabbed it, and in that same moment, handed off the messenger bag to you.

He unfolded the map, looking it over a second before he looked back to you.

“You can tell me where we are on this thing, right?” he asked.

“Yeah. Do you care if I keep the book in my backpack so I don't need to carry around two bags?” you asked.

“That's fine. Nothing else in there.”

He looked at the map a moment longer while you transferred the priceless book to a safe pocket in your bag.

“Alright, we'll stay here until it's clear enough to go out again,” he told you, “and when we get out there, you do as I say without question. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“And if you start to become more trouble than you're worth, you're on your own.”

“Got it,” you repeated.

It was harsh, but considering that your only other options were death or turning into a living nightmare, you could deal with it.

Just so you could get out of here alive.

You did your best to keep track of the days. How many days it had been since all of this started, and how many days since you had joined up with Phinks. If your math was right, it'd been eighteen days since the outbreak began, and only five since meeting Phinks.

Despite the shorter time frame, a routine had set in for you two: you would follow a few steps behind him as he led you through the city, looking at the map for guidance. Occasionally you needed to reroute, either to a different street or through a building when he determined that the enemies within a certain area were too much for him take care of while also protecting you.

You were lucky that even with the current state of the city, a majority of the electricity was still working, streetlights and the lights from businesses still on their automatic timers and lighting up when night fell. Although there were occasions where the lights had been ruined to the point that they didn't work and you needed to grab on to Phinks' arm as he led you through an area.

Setbacks happened in the form of groups of zombies spotting one or both of you, and minutes would be wasted as Phinks went through and snapped their necks one by one while you hung back and watched.

You still had a hard time understanding how a person could be capable of the things he was, but you didn't question it, being far more grateful that he was on your side and making sure you didn't die.

It was worse whenever you ran into soldiers, however. For one thing, distance didn't help in protecting you from them as they were able to shoot at you, and you would need to find a hiding spot quick while also being aware of what else might've been around you. And for another, if even one of them managed to shoot their guns, the sound of the gunshot would echo through the streets and bring forth the hoards that were eager to have you join them.

In one instance after such a thing had happened, you and Phinks had needed to hide in a public bathroom and wait for most of the zombies outside to leave before you could continue on. The bathroom was in a similar state to everything else, and in the very last stall, you found the body of a woman. There was a gun in her hand and the wall behind her had been spattered with blood and brain matter that had come from a wound at the back of her head. She had chosen to take her life in her own hands and not leave her fate to the things outside.

It was a grim discovery, and you were quick to close the door and return to Phinks' side.

The rest of the night and most of the day after was spent in there before he decided it was safe enough to head out again.

There were a lot of wrecked cars in the streets. Lots of cars that had gotten into collisions and set on fire based on how they'd been reduced to blackened, burned out husks of metal. Lots of instances where you saw vehicles stuck inside of buildings or wrapped around poles. But what scared you most about those scenes when you walked by them was when you saw hand prints on the outside door handles, those same doors being left wide open and the seat belts looking torn and laying on the ground below. Clear signs that whoever had been inside those vehicles had been grabbed and forced out.

It reminded you of the way those things had periodically tried opening your apartment door.

“Why are they smart?” you asked.

You were following behind Phinks, sidestepping the debris on the ground as you copied the steps he was taking while doing your best to walk where he walked.

“You think they're smart?” he asked back.

“Smart enough to know how doors work,” you said.

“Hm.”

“They kept trying to get into my unit at the apartment, and they always tried by turning the knob,” you explained, “I think the only reason they never tried harder was because I never gave any indication that I was there. If I had, I think they would've broken in and gotten me like the others.”

“Probably,” he agreed, then he asked “is that what happened to your neighbors?”

“I think everyone on my floor but me got bitten, yeah,” you said, “I guess too many of them were gawking outside their units when the zombies came in.”

Phinks abruptly stopped, and when you looked back over to him, he was frowning at you.

“..... What?” you asked.

“.... Nothing. Forget it.”

Just like that, he turned away and started walking again.

…. That was weird.

Regardless, you followed along as he spoke again.

“As for why they're smart, I'd say it was because they were made to be,” he said.

“Made to be? So someone turned people like that on purpose?”

“I doubt it was meant to get this bad, but yeah, I think that's what happened.”

“That's awful,” you said, “what kind of agenda could someone have to cause something like this?”

“Like I said, I don't think it was supposed to be this bad.”

“How do you know?”

“Intuition.”

“That's a pretty vague answer,” you said.

To that, Phinks shrugged and didn't say anything more. End of discussion, it seemed.

A few blocks later you two took a break at a bus stop that was mostly covered. Phinks asked you to give him one of the water bottles you were carrying, and as he took a sip, you looked over the inventory in your backpack. Including the bottle he held, you had about three and a half bottles of water, along with a few different canned goods and non perishable foods from your apartment, as well as a few energy bars Phinks had picked up for himself before he'd run into you. Your food seemed pretty solid, but you worried about the water. Even with the two of you trying to drink conservatively, there was only so much you could do to preserve it.

“Worried?” he asked.

“About the water, yeah.”

He hummed as he screwed the cap back on and handed it to you as he said “as long as we don't to overboard with drinking too much and we don't face any more major setbacks, we'll probably make it outside before it all runs out. Besides, we can last a few days with little to no water.”

“It'd be pretty sad to survive through most of an outbreak like this and end up dying because of dehydration,” you said.

He actually laughed a little as he agreed with you.

Not long after that, the break was over as you began to walk again. It'd been relatively peaceful so far; you'd only caught sight of a single infected person so far, and you'd snuck around them easily. With the lack of danger at the moment, your curiosity about your companion got the better of you.

“Do you have some sort of survivalist training?” you asked.

“Why?”

“You've been pretty calm about this whole thing, and I guess that's kinda surprising to me.”

“Mm. Just been in enough shitty situations that I'm able to handle it better than most, I guess,” he said.

“.... Sorry.”

Phinks looked back to you, and this time he seemed surprised as he gave you a questioning look as he again asked “why?”

“It's horrible that you're used to things like this,” you said, “I'm sorry that's happened to you.”

He didn't seem to know how to respond to that.

“We should get a move on,” he eventually said, “keep quiet, okay?”

You nodded.

It was the middle of the night when the two of you heard gunshots and were immediately on edge. Any infected nearby would be drawn to this area and be swarming it within moments. You needed to find somewhere to hide. Fast.

Phinks was already heading off in the direction of a tall factory building. You followed, but as the two of you entered through shattered glass doors, you noted that it sounded like the gunshots were getting closer.

No point in mentioning that to Phinks; if you had noticed, he had noticed. Better not to waste your breath in telling him something he already knew.

You followed him, keeping a few paces behind him as he checked out different rooms, trying to determine which would be best to barricade yourselves in. The carnage in this building was a lot more than what you'd seen in other areas. Lots of blood on the walls, lots of overturned furniture and signs of violence. You felt bile rise to your throat when you stepped over what you realized too late were severed fingers on the floor, laying there like something had bitten them off and then spat them back out.

Luckily Phinks saved you from needing to focus on that for too long as he called out to you. He'd found a room he liked: a break room without any windows. It also contained a row of lockers and fair amount of tables and chairs that could be used to barricade the door. On the other side of the room was a heavy-looking fire escape door that seemed to be intact.

“If we need to leave by the fire escape – do we know it isn't blocked?” you asked him.

“If it is I'll take care of it,” he answered gruffly.

As much as you didn't like the idea of possibly locking yourself into a death trap, you chose to trust Phinks' judgment as you hurried through the door. He shut it just as the gunshots were able to be heard at the building's entrance where you'd been only moments earlier.

“Dumb bastards are bringing them right to us,” he hissed.

“Will we be okay?” you asked.

“As long as they don't get in here.”

He said that as he locked the door and then pushed a table up against it. It wasn't the best barricade, but evidently Phinks was more concerned about making too much noise as you heard more voices from the outside move into the hallway. It was a collection of voices that you heard, all yelling something along the lines of running to the upstairs. Shots would ring out periodically as the group traveled up a set of stairs Phinks had ignored on his way in.

They must've been a group of survivors, you realized. Not military as you had become so accustomed to; people like yourself, who'd become caught up in a nightmare that they didn't want any part of and were just trying to survive.

As you listened from behind the door, you heard the snarls and the stamping of unsteady feet that surged after the group. More zombies. A lot of them, from the sounds of it, and you thought again of the person you'd seen get torn to shreds.

And much like how it had been during the time at your apartment, there wasn't anything you could do for them.

Even without being able to see them you could tell that there were far too many zombies outside. And even if Phinks was something of a superhuman, he'd get overrun by the amount that was out there.

Those survivors were trapping themselves upstairs, and eventually whatever barricades they'd make would fall apart as the zombies came after them. And then the numbers of those monsters would grow once again.

You sank down to the floor while Phinks leaned against the other table in the room; he kept his eyes on the door that led out to the hall, only glancing over at you once to place a finger over his lips.

Be quiet

Nodding, you hugged your knees to your chest.

And then you heard screaming coming through the vent above you.

Where exactly in the building the screams were coming from, you weren't certain, but it continued to echo through the ventilation and find its way to where the two of you sat in the small locker room. Minutes passed and it didn't end, and outside of the room you heard more footsteps running up the stairs at the end of the hall. All of that noise was only drawing more of those things to those unfortunate survivors.

Placing your hands over your ears didn't do much to cancel out what you were hearing, and you were brought back to that very first day when all of this had started, when you had huddled up on the floor next to your bed while your neighbors were overtaken. One of them had been pounding against the wall that had separated you from them, like they'd wanted you to help in some way. And now you heard people calling out for help again, and once more, there was nothing you could do.

Maybe they could get lucky – you had no idea what things were like up there. Maybe there was a way they could ward those things off and survive. Maybe there was some way up there that they could get to a different building and escape.

Those scenarios seemed less and less likely the longer the screaming went on.

You could hear something banging now, like bodies slamming themselves against a surface. Meanwhile the voices you heard now were people shouting for objects to be used to barricade a door.

In your head, you knew what the outcome would be: the zombies wouldn't give up, still able to remember that there were people on the other side even if they couldn't see them, and they would throw themselves at the door until they were able to get in. Then those people's screams would start up again before ending a final time.

You weren't paying attention to Phinks in that moment. Your focus was on keeping your hands over your ears and biting down on your lip so you made absolutely no noise. But if you'd looked over to him, you would've seen that he'd been staring at you.

You noticed when he suddenly walked in front of you, making his way over to the small lockers at the other side of the room. He was looking through the metal grating at the front, scanning over the various items that had been left inside.

Apparently he found what he was looking for in one, as he snapped off the lock on one and opened it.

He pulled out a pair of rather bulky headphones, and after turning and walking over to you, he held them out for you to take. To try and blot out the noise, you realized.

You took them just as the banging and the screams reached a fever pitch, putting them on and shutting your eyes.

Phinks' arm brushed against your own as he sat down next to you, leaning his head back against the wall. He looked tired. Even more than he had that first night you'd met him.

What exactly came over you in that moment, you weren't completely sure. Maybe you just wanted to feel some kind of human connection; after weeks of survival as you tried to escape the city, and the only other people around being the zombies that wanted to turn you into one of them and the soldiers that wanted to fill your skull with bullets, it'd be nice to feel something other than utter terror.

So you dared to lean yourself against him, hoping that the action was inoffensive enough to not annoy him.

After a few moments, he moved his arm so that it wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you in so you could rest your head against him. The headphones made it awkward, but the action was appreciated.

Being spared from needing to hear the last moments of those above you, you reached your hand up to the one that held your shoulder, your fingers brushing over his skin.

The way Phinks squeezed your shoulder was comforting.

The process of finding a way out usually went only one way:

You would stay behind in a safe place while Phinks went on ahead to check a road that the map said led out of the city. As you sat in your hiding spot, the longer time went on the more the fear grew in you that he wasn't going to come back for you, no matter what he had said about getting that book out.

Then there would always be a great relief when you saw that he returned, but it was always followed by disappointment as he'd determined that there were simply too many people stationed at that point and there was no way both of you could get out through there.

Three times now the same thing had happened, and Phinks was getting frustrated while you grew more worried that the two of you might not find a way out.

“What happens if we can't find any point that we can get out from?” you asked him after the third attempt, when the two of you had stopped to rest in the storage space of a ruined fishing shop.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” was his reply.

You didn't push him any further on that subject, deciding that you didn't want to hear it.

Using the map to figure out where the two of you would go from there, you slept in shifts to rest up for the coming evening, where you would try to get out once again.

There was a surprising lack of zombies on your way to the next point after you'd left the fish shop. An odd change, but one that was very welcome, even if the lack of anyone else around brought about an eerie silence as the two of you walked through the wrecked streets.

But it was because of that silence in the early morning hours that you heard something that was unexpected.

Like metal scraping against pavement.

And it seemed Phinks had noticed it as well when you saw him looking in the direction you had heard it. Turning sharply, he motioned for you to follow, his eyebrows furrowed as he now seemed concentrated on whatever that noise had been.

You followed behind him quietly.

You two reached the next block when Phinks stopped you. Using his arm to push you back, the two of you pressed yourselves against the wall of a building.

The metal scraping sounded again, and you stuck your head out enough to get a look at what had caused the noise:

Two men putting a manhole cover back in place on the street.

The small amount of light in the sky was enough that you could see both were armed and wearing gas masks with dark hazmat suits. One had a rectangular case strapped to his back, and both were looking over the area, weapons at the ready so they could shoot at anything that came at them.

They left the area, going in the direction that was opposite where you and Phinks stood while they kept low.

“What do you make of that?” Phinks asked you in a low voice.

“I don't know,” you began, “were they hiding down there?”

“I don't think so.”

Phinks pulled away from the wall and you, and turned to say “we're following them.”

“Okay.”

The two of you began to walk again, keeping a distance between you and the men but never letting them get out of sight.

“Why are we following them?” you dared to ask.

“Because I wanna know what they're doing.”

He then looked back to you as he said “stay quiet. These guys are also prepared to shoot.”

You nodded.

A short while later, the men stopped outside an entrance to the subway station, forcing you and Phinks to duck down next to an overturned car. Glancing the shattered windows, it looked like the men were arguing, but you had no clue what either of them were saying. The argument ended when they both ran down the steps, the one who had the pack in the process of removing it.

Phinks stood up.

“Stay here,” he said.

He noticed your look of panic because he added “it doesn't seem like there are a lot of those things in the area, so just keep quiet. If those guys don't come back up, I'll come back for you.”

“And if they do come back?” you asked.

“Then wait to come out until I've killed one or both of them.”

Then he left.

The men did end up emerging again, and this time, the pack was missing.

And when they began to walk off in a different direction was when Phinks struck.

He moved so fast that you were barely able to follow, only catching sight of a green blur that ran up behind one of the men before that man was on the ground, his head twisted around. The other man only managed to turn slightly before he was hit repeatedly, his gun torn away from him as he was forced to his knees. Phinks ripped the mask off and held him by the throat.

You waited a moment before getting out from behind your hiding spot, keeping an eye on your surroundings as you hurried to rejoin Phinks. He'd already started to interrogate the man by the time you reached him.

“What did you leave down there?” Phinks asked.

“N-nothing.”

“You think I'm stupid? I saw you with a backpack earlier and now it's gone. So you left it down there. What was in it?”

The man pressed his lips shut, looking between you two. With the lack of an answer, Phinks grew irritated again.

“Answer me. What the hell were you guys doing?”

The man he held grimaced, but when Phinks began to apply pressure around his neck, he relented.

“W-we, we needed to place something,” the man began, “to fix the problem here.”

“What'd you place?” Phinks pressed.

The man struggled to find his voice for a moment before he was finally able to answer.

“The Poor Man's Rose.”

In your head, there was a record scratch when you heard that. You blood went cold while time seemed to stop.

Poor Man's Rose.

You'd learned about those bombs extensively in your high school history class, reading over countless pages and watching a censored documentary going into the bomb's creation and the sort of destruction it caused. The same afternoon you'd watched the documentary, you'd gone online to look up the true extent of the damage it caused to humans and had almost immediately regretted that decision, the images you'd seen graphic enough to make you lose your appetite for the day.

A bomb of such destructive power that it blew away everything within the immediate area, and as the toxic smoke reached out beyond the detonation site, anyone or anything that was still alive would become poisoned and slowly die, passing on that same poison to anyone and everyone who was unfortunate enough to be within the vicinity of the infected subject.

It was a bomb that had been designed to take as many lives as possible, a device that had been created and used only by truly evil people.

And one had been planted beneath your feet.

After taking in that answer, you looked to Phinks.

For the first time since meeting him, he had a look of shock on his face. He knew just as well as you did how bad that answer was for you two, and how important it was to get out of the city as soon as possible.

“.... How long before it goes off?” Phinks asked, having regained his composure.

“You're not going to get out,” the man said, “the military is keeping a close eye on all the exits in case any stragglers try to follow them out. They aren't going to let anyone still in here escape.”

Phinks let go of the man's throat in favor of grabbing his hand. Taking the man's pinky finger, he snapped it so it was bent completely backwards.

The man cried out, and you worried about the amount of noise being made in that moment. But you said nothing and waited as Phinks continued.

“I've got a friend who's real good at torture, and while I don't think I'm as effective as he is, I'd say I've picked up a thing or two watching him,” Phinks whispered.

“I asked you when it goes off,” he continued, grabbing the man's ring finger, “and if you still aren't convinced to give me an answer, I'll get to work on the rest of them. And if even that isn't enough for you to say something, then you can bet I'll be doing my best to make sure whatever hours or minutes we all have left in this life will be spent with you in complete agony.”

He motioned to a diner down the street as he said “that place probably has a grill. If we're lucky, it'll still be working, and then we can see how well you do when I cook your face on it. Your call.”

Although the man was still reluctant to answer the question, evidently he was more afraid of the pain as he relented soon after.

“..... Twelve hours. Maybe a little less. We were supposed to head in further to put it at the center of the city but I just wanted to get rid of it.”

“Best make peace with whatever god you pray to,” the man added, “at least if you stay at ground zero, it'll be fast for you.”

“How were you two getting out?”

“You two won't be able to leave through our escape route,” the man said.

He cried out again as Phinks bent his ring finger back.

“How were you two getting out?” Phinks hissed.

“H-helicopter. A helicopter was going to pick us up from the front of the hospital. But you two can't get out that way. They'll know immediately that you aren't us and they'll shoot you,” said the man, “there isn't any way out for you two. There's a barricade that surrounds the whole city. Even if you wait until the military is gone, you won't be able to escape in time.”

…. Shit. Was brute force the only way you two could get out? You looked back to Phinks, but you couldn't tell what was going through his head.

You looked back to the man in the hazmat suit, who, despite having two broken fingers, had the barest hint of smugness about him. Like he was happy the two of you were going down with him.

Going down......

When you first saw them, they were coming up through a manhole.

“Phinks, they came in through the sewers, right? Can't we go back the way they came?” you asked.

Before Phinks could answer, the man scoffed at you.

“You really think we wouldn't have thought of that? That entrance has been sealed up. No one's getting in or out that way,” he said.

“Sealed with what?” Phinks asked.

“Solid steel, that's what,” the man said, getting bolder as he found satisfaction in the fact that you two were stuck here, “there's nothing you can do to get through that.”

As soon as the man said that, Phinks smirked.

“I don't know about that,” he said smugly.

“.... You people are dead, just accept that,” the man said, “you and your stupid little sidekick.”

Phinks' response to that was to take his arm and snap it, causing the man to scream as his arm was bent unnaturally.

“Phinks, he's making so much noise-” you began.

“That's the point.”

Phinks knelt down and began to go through the man's pockets, humming to himself when he found a folded piece of paper that he handed over to you. Another map, you found, although this one was a map of the city's sewer system with a path that had been highlighted.

Your way out.

Two kicks were all Phinks needed to shatter the man's shins, and as the man once again cried out in pain, Phinks tossed him down the subway stairs and looked on with a little bit of glee as he watched the man fall.

The man's mouth was bleeding when he looked back up, dripping out of a busted lip as he asked “w-what are you doing?”

“Making sure that you can't get out,” Phinks answered, then he smirked as he said “at least if you stay at ground zero, it'll be fast for you.”

“No! No please don't leave me! I can get you on the chopper, I swear-!”

Phinks bent down and grabbed a flashlight that the other man had been carrying, then pulled you away by the arm. The two of you left him there. You could still hear him screaming even when you reached the car you'd been hiding behind earlier.

“He'll probably get killed by those things before the bomb,” you said.

“Yeah,” Phinks replied, “but right now let's focus on getting out.”

“Through the sewer?”

“What, don't like the sound of that?” he asked.

“It's fine. As long as I can live after this, I'll do just about anything,” you said.

He patted you on the shoulder as he said “good answer.”

It took two hours to make it through the sewer system following the map you'd gotten, trudging through sewage and slush and other things that you didn't want to think about amid the murky water that sometimes made it up to your knees. The smell was terrible, and Phinks had grumbled at one point that he should've grabbed the masks that those men had been wearing.

He held your hand as he lead you through it, not allowing you to get too far behind.

At the end of it you found that the man from earlier hadn't been lying: the entry point that led out into the river had been sealed.

Phinks hadn't been phased in the slightest, only telling you to step back as he began to rotate his arm in circles. He repeated the action twelve times.

When he punched the barrier, it shattered completely, the noise causing a ringing in your ears because of the small space of the sewer.

You stood staring dumbfounded at the scene, much to his annoyance.

“C'mon, there's no one around,” he said to you, “let's get going.”

“Right......”

You knew that he wasn't a normal person. You'd seen a lot at this point to attest to that fact. But even after everything, that was a little hard to wrap your head around.

Think about it later, you told yourself as you followed after Phinks.

With how bright it was out now, you still worried about potential soldiers that were leaving the city, but as the two of you walked further and further away from the city limits, you allowed yourself to feel a little bit of relief. It felt tangible now. That you were going to get out of this. Even with Phinks, the thought of making it out alive seemed like it could only be a fantasy at times, but now that you'd gotten out of the city itself, it felt like you really would survive this.

Your legs were hurting by the time you came across a gas station. There was an assortment of cars left in the lot and by the gas pumps, with some doors being left wide open.

As you got closer to the station's entrance, you noted that there wasn't any blood or any sort of sign of a violent struggle. No sign of anyone at all.

A motorcycle stood abandoned by one of the gas pumps, and it seemed to have caught Phinks' attention, as you swore you could hear him let out a soft “nice” upon seeing it.

Inside the station was just as devoid of people as the outside had been, with no one in the aisles or any employees at the register. All you saw was a bucket and mop in one of the aisles, as if someone had been in the middle of cleaning the floors when they'd been suddenly pulled away.

“Those things didn't come here, did they?” you asked.

“Nah, there was a major effort to keep all that contained to the city,” Phinks said as he walked by you, “I'd say everyone who was in here at the time was evacuated.”

“At least they bothered to evacuate some people,” you muttered.

“It is what it is. At least you didn't die, right?”

Phinks was heading towards the register, hopping over the counter once he spotted what he'd been looking for: a phone. Picking up the receiver, he let out a small “yes!” when he put it to his ear and heard a dial tone.

He looked back to you as he pressed in some numbers.

“Grab me a beer, will you?”

Seeing the fridge with the cans of beer he was pointing to, you picked one up and threw it over to him. He caught it easily, snapping open the tab and drinking about half of the can's contents in one gulp while he had the phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder.

You grabbed something for yourself, picking out a fruit-flavored drink from the fridge and had been in the middle of re-hydrating yourself when you heard him speak.

“Hey Shal.”

You glanced back to see him leaning against the edge of the counter, phone to up to his ear as the conversation continued.

“It took me almost a month to get out of what may as well have been a fucking war zone. How do you think I'm doing?”

He paused, and it was safe to assume that the person on the other end of the line was speaking.

“I couldn't. Phone signal was down. And anyways, mine was broken.”

Another pause.

“From a gas station. We made it to one just on the outskirts.”

Another pause, and he briefly glanced over to you.

“No, not them. Someone unrelated.”

Then he continued with “listen, I don't wanna sit around here for too long. This countries government is doing their best to kill off anyone who comes out of the city and keep everything contained, so we need to get out of here soon.”

The other person said something that made Phinks' gaze narrow into a glare.

“We can't just hide out here, Shalnark. They planted a Miniature Rose. They're blowing everything up and this area'll be affected when it goes off.”

You actually managed to hear the other person on the line when they spoke that time, as they exclaimed the word “really!?”

They sounded a little too excited upon hearing that.

“I need help getting out,” Phinks said, ignoring that little outburst, “the military has a blockade around the city, but they're leaving and I'm pretty sure that they've evacuated the surrounding areas where the rose will have an effect on anything still alive after the blast. Can you figure out if they've set up another blockade, and if there are any blind spots we can get through? They'll shoot at us immediately if they see us coming out at this point.”

Phinks stayed quiet for a bit, presumably because the other person – Shalnark – was speaking.

The bottle you held was now empty, and you found yourself playing with the plastic wrapper that was wrapped around it as you waited for a conclusion to his conversation.

“It wasn't zombies,” Phinks said suddenly.

Those words caught you off-guard and you looked back to him. He looked irritated again.

“I don't care what you heard, it wasn't zombies.”

Apparently the person on the other end was protesting that point, and Phinks lost his cool.

“It wasn't fucking zombies! It was nen!” he insisted, “you weren't the one who needed to get out of that shit, so don't go telling me what it was.”

Another pause, and Phinks sighed.

“My best guess is it was a manipulator ability, one where the user got more puppets if the first ones they infected went out and bit new victims. But I think whoever that manipulator was, they died. The only thing those puppets were doing was attacking people that hadn't been taken over by that nen, but nothing beyond that. There was never anything beyond getting people under control.”

After another brief pause, he continued with “yeah. Some idiot got a puppet and ordered them to turn whoever else was around into puppets as well. Then the asshole died, and postmortem nen kicked in and the only order those things still had were to make more of them. So that's what they did.”

Phinks sighed, adding “I hate people who make stupid abilities. The hell's the point in an ability like that?”

The person on the other line was saying something, and it set Phinks off again.

“Just because it sounds like it was zombies doesn't make it fucking zombies!” he yelled, “it was some stupid fucker who made a shit ability and then because they were so fucking stupid, they died and made their shit ability everyone elses problem!”

Though you couldn't hear them, you got the sense that the person on the other line was trying to get Phinks to settle down. That seemed to be most likely based on the way Phinks huffed and leaned back against the counter.

And then there was a sudden change in him.

His eyes widened slightly and he stood up straighter. The irritation that had built up during that conversation was inexplicably gone.

“Hey boss.”

Boss?

Evidently the person on the other end of the phone had changed places with the person who had sent Phinks into Ranier in the first place. The boss that he had mentioned when you first met him. From his demeanor alone, it was easy to see the amount of respect Phinks had for the person he was now speaking to.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” said Phinks, “sorry for taking so long to contact you.”

“The book made it out safely, too. Although you're gonna need to find a new buyer for it,” he added.

Whoever “boss” was, he was currently speaking to Phinks, and once again, you couldn't hear anything. Although based on what you were seeing, you wondered if maybe you should leave the room for the rest of the call as you weren't sure if his boss would appreciate you listening in on one half of the conversation.

He glanced over to you again when he saw you wander over to the bathroom before he again said something about the outbreak being “caused by nen.”

The bathroom didn't look too bad when you entered it, although given what you had seen in the last few days, it would be hard for anything to be quite as bad as what you had seen in Ranier. You walked over to the sink as you were overcome with the urge to clean yourself up a bit, and there was an odd amount of relief when you turned on the water and found that it was clear, like it was supposed to be.

When was the last time you'd had a shower?

Too long. Way too long.

Splashing the water onto your face, you made an attempt to clean off some of the grime that had collected. Although after trudging through the sewers, the only way you'd be able to feel truly clean again was if you could get a shower. A long one.

Maybe Phinks' boss could set you up with something.

Although there would probably more of an effort put towards getting you two somewhere safe.

Shutting off the water, you leaned against the sink and looked at yourself in the mirror that hung above it.

You looked like shit.

It really felt like it'd been years since you'd been living a normal life – that had been, what, a month ago? You weren't sure; you'd lost count of the days.

You couldn't return to that life, could you? As much as you wished you could go back home and pretend like nothing had happened, there wasn't going to be a future like that for you. One where you got to see your friends and family again.

You leaned against one of the bathroom stalls as your realizations settled in.

You couldn't go back home. Not after this.

And then a new thought hit you:

After this was over and you handed off the book to Phinks' boss, would Phinks still let you stick around? Or would he consider you to no longer be his problem after the deal had concluded?

The idea that Phinks might abandon you after all of this hurt. A lot.

The door to the bathroom swung open as Phinks entered as well. He sighed as he stood at the sink as well, turning on the water at full blast and scrubbing himself down just as you had.

He was more focused on cleaning himself off at that moment, and as such, wasn't looking at you. After taking a brief moment to compose yourself, you spoke.

“Everything okay with you and your boss?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said, “more importantly, we've got a way out of here.”

“Your friend was able to help?”

“Both him and boss,” said Phinks, “they found an area that's lighter on security and they'll meet us there.”

“But what about the soldiers?”

“They'll take care of it. Once we meet up with them, we're gonna lay low for a bit.”

“Both of us?”

He gave you an odd look as he replied “yeah, both of us.”

“Where?”

“Rokario,” he answered, “normally we'd hide out in Meteor City, but seeing how hard they're making sure to get rid of anyone who came out of Ranier, they'll be on the lookout for any refugees headed that way. So it's best that we go somewhere they wouldn't expect.”

He glanced over to you, asking “there isn't anyone in Rokario who'd recognize you, right?”

“I don't think so.”

“Good. Then that's where we're going.”

You nodded along as you went over the information in your head. Rokario..... That was a spot that some would say was in a more dangerous part of the world, if just for how close it was in proximity to East Gorteau. Maybe that was the point in the two of you going there: there probably weren't many who would expect anyone to choose that part of the world for their hiding spot.

“The book is still okay, right?” he asked.

“Ah, yeah.”

Unzipping the backpack, you pulled out the book, still in its box and looking in pretty good condition.

“Good,” he said, “apparently that thing survived a few different library fires. Maybe we can add an extra million jenny to the price if we say that it survived a city that just got bombed.”

You nodded along with his words again as you put the book back in and closed up the backpack. Kinda weird how he was talking about money when you were still in an area that wouldn't exist within a matter of hours. But maybe not that weird if situations like this were normal for him.

“I'm gonna see if that motorcycle will start up,” said Phinks, “if there's anything you need to do here, do it now, because once we meet up with Chrollo and Shal we won't be taking any side trips.”

And with that, he left the room, the door swinging for a few moments before its momentum finally stopped.

That'd be it, then. Within a few hours, maybe less, you and Phinks would be out of here and somewhere safe. In hiding, probably for the rest of your life, but you'd be okay. You'd lived through this, and while you couldn't say whether or not you were stronger for it, at least you were alive.

…. Your friends and family back home wouldn't know that, though.

That thought hit you and instantly brought your mood back down. All of them were probably worried out of their minds, and if they hadn't been told that you were dead for certain, then they likely still had hope that you'd be able to make it out of Ranier and return to them.

That hope would be eliminated once Ranier was wiped off the planet, and then they'd go through the process of grieving you.

Meanwhile you'd be alive the entire time and wouldn't be able to tell them.

You heard the sputtering of a motorcycle engine once you left the bathroom, and looking through the windows of the station, it seemed as though Phinks had been able to get the bike started. He looked pleased with himself.

With one last look around the abandoned station, you grabbed a box of candy that stood near the register and stuffed it into your backpack before you joined him outside.

“There's only one helmet, so you'll have to go without,” Phinks explained when you approached him, “but we should be fine. If anything goes wrong, just hold onto me.”

“Okay.”

Your gaze was distant, and you didn't take your place behind him on the bike, which caused him to frown.

“What's wrong?”

“.... There isn't any chance that I can go back to my family, right?” you asked.

“No. You're probably already on a list of people that are meant to be dead in Ranier. If you show back up after the bomb goes off, not only will they kill you off, but everyone you come in contact with to eliminate the risk anything spreading. And with the possibility of you being infected from Miniature Rose, they'd try twice as hard to get rid of you,” he said.

Of course it was like that. If the military was shooting everyone in sight inside the city, they wouldn't just let you go. And since the fear was spreading the outbreak, Phinks' reasoning made sense.

Just like you'd thought: you had survived and you wouldn't even be able to tell them.

The only person you had now was Phinks.

“So then,” you continued, “is it okay if I stay with you?”

Phinks nodded as he said “yeah.”

“Even after you leave Rokario?”

“I figured that's what we'd be doing,” he said, “I don't mind having you around.”

“Even if I weigh you down?”

He gave you a weird look at that.

“You tryin' to get me to leave you or something?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“Just want to be sure.”

“If I wasn't sure, then I wouldn't be telling you that you could come with me,” he said.

He pointed at the seat behind him with his thumb as he said “time isn't on our side right now. If you're coming with me, then get on.”

You nodded as you said “right. Sorry.”

You climbed up onto the seat behind him while he placed the helmet on his head and revved the engine again. It was louder than you were expecting, but you wrapped your arms around him, clasping your hands around his waist.

Despite his talks of leaving right then, he didn't drive off immediately. One of his hands left its place on the handlebars in favor of resting on top of yours. It stayed there for a moment, gently squeezing your hands.

Like a reassurance for you.

Phinks then pulled away, grabbing the handles before he began to ride off.

You were just along for the ride now, hoping that when you made it to Rokario, you'd be able to find some sense of peace in your new life.

That you'd be able to find a new version of “normal” with Phinks.

#reader insert #phinks x reader #phinks magcub #hxh phinks #hxh x reader #hxh

584 notes · View notes

watermelonsugacry · 2 years ago

Note

How did H find out about YN and Matt?

LOVE YOUU

Hi hun! How did H find out about yn and Matt? Like how jealous and miserable did he get on a scale?

MOVE

A/N: SINCE 2010 ficmas day 2! had this one saved up for a bit 💚

SUMMARY: In 2013, YN is a feature on Little Mix's song Move which also means that she's going to dance and be part of its music video. What happens when Harry sees how close YN and her dance partner are getting? (7.7K)

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn

SINCE 2010 masterlist // Ficmas 2022

YN drops the styrofoam smoothie cup that she just spilled her guts into down the trash bin outside the entrance of the dance studio. She quickly unwraps gum from the packet Harry left in her car and makes a mental note to both scold and thank him for leaving stuff in her car.

Today is the first day of a two week dance rehearsal for Little Mix’s new single Move. This was the first song YN was able to get a more hands-on experience behind song producing for other artists. It started off with very minimal work on some harmony stacking (an art form the girl group is exquisite at executing) that led to the girls encouraging her to get inside the recording booth. With permission from her management team, YN became an official feature for the song.

From then, her management team didn’t hesitate to take an opportunity for One Direction and Little Mix’s exposure and quickly invested in a music video and some live performances to debut their new single. The musicians from both bands were all undoubtedly excited at the news. Not only would it benefit both bands for its vast media exposure, but it was a chance to hang out with people their age other than their own band members.

YN has grown closer to these girls—it certainly helps that her bandmate was dating one of them—and she was more than happy for this kind of experience. Yet, what had her stomach drop to the bottom of her feet was the news about incorporating dancing to this single. Not just a simple eight count either but a full three minute dance routine.

YN has never done anything like this before. A massive weight was lifted off of her shoulders when the boys were against doing any kind of professional choreography when the band was first formed. None of them had any dancing background and everyone was perfectly okay with that; it honestly made the band that much more genuine and different from other music groups.

But she has to admit, a little piece inside of her is super excited for an opportunity like this. She had been curious about dancing within her singing career but never had a chance (or the courage) to speak out about it. That’s not to say that her anxiety hasn't spiked to 100 for her professional dancing debut being alongside the biggest girl group on the planet.

With another tug to readjust the backpack digging into her shoulder, she turns her back to the double doors to push it open with her shoulder and is quickly washed with the AC blasting from inside. Before she can even get two steps inside the building, she feels a hard surface bump right in front of her and a cold wash of blue liquid spills all over her oversized white t-shirt.

A harsh gasp runs through her lips and her mind is already blocking out the profanities threatening to come up and out of her throat as she remembers her media-training.

“Holy shit. M’so sorry! Y’alright, babe?”

“Yeah, I’m—” She looks up and sees an attractive man with a concerned look on his face, one hand holding onto her forearm while his other holds a now half empty bottle of Gatorade. His light brown eyes match his mocha skin and there is no other course of action but to melt into his arms and feed into the damsel in distress situation she finds herself in.

Wait, what? Since when is she the one to be at a loss for words?

“Yeah, yeah m’good thanks,” She straightens up but definitely takes notice of the way he’s still holding her arm. She looks down at her ruined shirt with a sigh, “Can’t really say the same for me shirt. Tie-dye isn’t really in the fashion trends at the moment I’m afraid.”

“Well, for what it’s worth,” He gives her a sincere smile. “You seem like you can pull off such a psychedelic wardrobe. Should I go grab an orange drink to pour around the blue?” The guy joins in her giggling with a chuckle.

YN shakes her head with a pained smile, “Please don’t.”

It’s like he remembers his hold on her and he goes to remove his hands until he catches the ink on her skin, “I like your tattoos. You seem a little young to be wearing ‘em though.”

“Well, I’ll be twenty in May. It’s not like I’m a child,” She straightens her back a bit at her response and sees his smile turn into a small smirk.

Oh wow.

The guy looks at her for a beat longer before he pipes up as if he just realized something. “Oh, here.”

He slips the strap of his duffle bag down and it drops with a thud to the ground. He quickly unzips one of the sides and hands her a hand towel, one she takes with a small ‘fanks as she goes to wipe at her shirt. Not like that’s going to help ruined shirts but at least she won’t have her clothes dripping before she gets the chance to change.

Normally, if this happened on stage with the boys (which it has) YN wouldn’t hesitate to pick up a water bottle of her own to attempt to soak her bandmates back. If she were fortunate enough, sometimes it would be at the end of the show so she can quickly change out of her drenched clothing and promptly jump into a nice shower.

“Did you have to pick such a stainful color? I would have been at least a little flattered if it were a flavorful one.”

“What do y’mean?”

“Your drink. Sorry mate,” YN tsks. “But blue Gatorade is a major red flag.”

Is...is she flirting with this guy? It’s certainly a different course of action than if Louis or Liam or even Zayn were to have drenched her in sugary-liquid.

“How so?” He muses with a playful furrow of his eyebrows.

“‘Cause it’s the worst one?”

“Huh, you seem like a green Gatorade type of lady.”

“S’red actually. Red flag number two.”

“Well how about this,” The guy licks his lips, tilting his head to the side as he looks down at her. “I take you to dinner where you can tell me all about yeh different colored flags. You can have yeh red drink while I have my blue one and who knows? Maybe by the end of the night, we can make our tongues purple.”

YN lets out a genuine scoff, the corners of her lips curling up in a smirk. This bloke is bold.

“It must be hard with your sense of direction, seeing as you’re unable to find your way to a decent pickup line.”

“Oh you wound me,” The guy puts a hand over his toned chest peeking out from his loose tank top and YN bites back a giggle. Who is she right now? “So much so as m’surely dead and in heaven right now since I see an angel right in front of me.”

“Your way of flirting is truly awful,” YN tucks her lips in to prevent the ever-growing smile threatening to tug on her lips.

“Yeah, but,” He leans down a bit more to say, “It is working, isn’t it?”

It is, and stupidly so.

“I guess we’ll never know,” YN pushes the small towel towards his chest. She gives him a small smirk as she chews her gum with her mouth closed and walks around him to head down the hallway.

It’s not like she’s ever going to see him again. She’s always busy with being on tour and it wasn’t anything new for her to be a bit flirty a bit with a stranger she knew she’d never see again.

No harm, no foul.

She heads towards the hall where there are multiple doors with numbers on them. Once she reaches the door with the number 3 on it, she gives three quick knocks before twisting the handle.

The scream of the girls echoes off the walls of the room at the sight of her and she can’t help but laugh in return. As she’s about to close the door behind her, she feels something block her from doing so. With a furrow of her eyebrows, she does a double take when she looks over her shoulder to see the guy from earlier with his hand spread out on the door.

Before she can form a question out of her fuzzy brain, she feels the girls’ hands wrapping around her arms to pull her further into the room.

“We are so excited you’re here!” Perrie says, holding her shoulders.

“Oh this is going to be so amazin’,”Leigh Anne giggles, clapping her hands together and jumping up and down.

It’s both odd and refreshing to be around girls her age. Being on tour with five boys 24/7 for three years straight should seem like a dream to most girls—and while the majority of the time it is—it would be nice to have some time away from all the testosterone.

“Well ‘fanks to you lot for having me in this. I’ve never done anything like this before,” Despite her nerves from earlier, she’s starting to feel ten times better.

“I see you met your dance partner,” Perrie nods her head to someone behind me.

She did?

YN hesitantly turns over her shoulder to see Door Guy laughing and talking with the other dancers. When he turns his head and locks eyes with her, his smile turns into a smirk.

“And our choreographer.”

YN snaps her head back to the girls but quickly tries to compose herself at the words that just left out of Jade’s mouth. She can feel the familiar turn in her stomach again and wonders if she suddenly ran out of the room would they think of her differently.

“C-choreographer?”

“Well, for this music video he is. But don’t worry babe, he’s an amazing dancer,” Jesy says, nodding in reassurance.

“I don’t think that’s the thing she’s worried about,” Jade says with a smile, giggling along with the other girls.

“What do yeh mean?” YN asks them, trying to seem confused while she’s currently dying on the inside. This really can’t be happening.

Perrie says in a whisper, “Babes, we’re girls. We can spot a crush when we see one.”

“Or a guy completely checking out a girl,” Leigh Anne says after seeing YN’s lips part in shock. YN didn’t grow up with a lot of girl friends and being put in a band with five other guys made her love her career even more. She’s so used to using her skills as a female to swerve her way past situations like not talking about her feelings or dismissing the idea of ever talking about guys she likes. What a reminder to brush up on said skills since these four were able to easily dodge her question with giddy smiles.

“And from the looks of it, he totally is,” Jade squeals quietly while glancing behind her.

The loud clap behind her echoes throughout the studio and it makes her shoulders flinch.

“Alright girls, let’s get this show on the road,” The Door Guy’s voice follows suit.

“Come on,” Perrie hooks her arm through hers. “You can set your bag over here. And what happened to yeh shirt?”

“It’s a long story,” YN lets out a sigh.

Kill me, please kill me now.

“Alright,” The guy who she has yet to know his name stands in front of the room, ready to give further instructions. He gives her a smile before turning his gaze to talk with the rest of the group. “Before we start, I’m sure everyone knows by now that we have a special guest for this project. Miss YN YLN will be joining us for the dance routine as she’s the feature for this single.”

YN raises her eyebrows at the fact that he knew her name but quickly slaps on a smile as everyone in the room claps. Perrie wraps her arms around her and pulls her in for a quick, side hug.

Wait, if he knew her name, then he must know who she is. She somehow knew it was too good to be true, but she just hopes that he wasn’t flirting with her because of her “fame.” Or was she just pushing it on him? Or was he just being nice to her and she was taking it as flirting—

“Alright, so it’s gonna start on a basic 8 count and we’re gonna start straight away with partner work. So let’s get on a diagonal line starting with Jade over here...”

She turns around on her heel to get in the spot he wants her and sees Perrie give her a smile that she's trying to hide. She gives her a playful eye roll before she feels two big hands on her shoulders.

“And you’ll stand over here,” He gently guides her where to stand and before he lets go, he gives her a wink before moving onto Jesy at her left. Her stomach suddenly does a weird flip.

These past few years, the playful flirting from fans has increased but she only sees them for a minute or two before being rushed off. Whether it be at meet and greets or on the street, she hasn’t had someone flirt with her knowing that they will be seeing each other for the next couple of weeks.

It’s been a while since she’s been around girls. Were they always this...jumpy?

She feels a tap on her hand and turns to her right to see Jade gives her an excited look, knowing she saw the small interaction between her and the door guy.

As he goes about teaching everyone the steps, YN feels like an idiot schoolgirl who’s getting touched for the first time. She mentally scolds her body when her skin tingles at his touch; whether it be as simple as a hand on her arm or how she can feel his toned body move with hers from behind.

“So you’re gonna extend your arm towards us, so you’re pointing at us,” Door Guy instructs and everyone follows along. “Good. Now your partner is gonna grab your hand and push it away like so,” He wraps his hand around YN’s to demonstrate before gently pushing it away all the while she keeps her gaze towards the mirror beside her to avoid his gaze. “Cool. Now we’ll each review it a bit with our partners and then we’ll take it from the top together.”

The pairs around the room begin to chat amongst themselves as they move back to get ready in their starting positions and begin to slowly review their steps.

He moves to stand next to her and she puts her hand on her hips, remembering her starting position, “Ready?” When she gives him a nod, he begins to count, “Five, six, seven, eight...”

On beat, she lifts her head up, then places her hand on his arm while moving her upper body to the right.

“So,” She says after two beats. “You knew who I was when we spoke at the door?” She moves to grab his extended forearm and leans down to a lunging position.

“Make sure you tilt your head back as you lower yourself,” Once she follows his instructions and she carries on through the steps, he continues. “And to answer your question: no, I didn’t. I knew someone named YN was coming in to dance with us but I didn’t know what you looked like. But when I saw you walk into the studio and the girls were screaming bloody murder, I put two and two together.”

He didn’t know what she looked like? She can’t tell if he’s lying or not. Not to sound big-headed but she’s pretty sure her band has become a household name by now.

“How have you not heard of One Direction?” She instantly squeezes her eyes shut and grits her teeth, immediately regretting her words the second they left her mouth. “Sorry, that sounded so—”

“Humble?” He raises an eyebrow at her as another smirk tugs itself on his lips.

“Try arrogant.”

“Narcissistic,” He retaliates.

“Semantics,” She just shrugs her shoulders as she walks her fingers up his toned arm and follows through on the next dance move. “Y’also never introduced yourself.”

“I haven’t, no,” He goes to lean in front of her so she can put her hands on his shoulders like he taught her and the rest of the girls earlier. After a beat goes by and he hasn’t said anything yet, she raises her eyebrows.

“Or do you reckon I keep calling you Door Guy?”

“So that’s what you’ve been calling me?” He peeks at her over his shoulder.

“Only in my head.”

“S’Mathew,” He informs her as he moves to stand behind her. For a moment, she’s impressed at how well he’s able to fluidly go through each dance move so effortlessly but then quickly remembers that it’s his occupation. “But everyone calls me Matt.”

“Well you already know I’m YN?”

“Is that a question?” He muses.

“It’s a name actually,” She sarcastically says, rolling her lips into her mouth to try to hide the smile threatening to grow on her face. In turn, he gives her an opened mouth smirk, his tongue pressed to the side of his cheek and his jawline looks so sharp it could cut diamonds.

“You’ve got a smart mouth on you, don’t you?” He locks eye contact with her through the mirror in front of them. “But it’s a pleasure to officially meet you, YN.”

“You too, Matthew,” She says before she’s raising her arm up, snapping it back down to a turn of her head, remembering the steps he taught her.

“Quite like that shirt on yeh. Designer?”

YN doesn’t fall for anyone so easily but she knows she’s tripping head first when she can’t seem to come up with a witty reply as quickly as she usually does. Instead, her cheeks hurt from holding back her smile and mutters a quiet, “Shut up.”

Butterflies flow around her tummy when he huffs out a chuckle and shakes his head at her through the mirror. As he quietly counts out loud and they shift their hips together in unison, she’s left with a scary realization that the last time she felt that familiar flutter was with...Harry.

...

YN looks at herself in the small full body mirror and takes in a deep breath. She runs her hands down the curves of her full hips that are flushed tightly against a latex black skirt. She doesn’t normally wear stuff like this. The only times she wears skirts are the flowy ones her management forces her to wear to maintain her “good girl” image.

But this...this was something she never really had the confidence to wear on her own, let alone a music video. She’d rather stick to the black jeans she wears on tour.

She closes her eyes and takes another deep breath before she pulls back the curtain to the makeshift dressing room. She just needs to get out of the small space before her breathing gets iregulated and she makes a fool of herself by being found here unconscious.

YN sees the other girls talking amongst themselves as they finish getting their last minute touches on their wardrobes. They all look so amazing in their first outfits, so skinny and toned that they could be supermodels if they wanted. She looks down at her skirt once again and runs her hands over her plushy hips.

Looking at the mirrored white box set intimidates her more than anything she’s ever done before. She doesn’t know how to be sexy or flirty. These girls are practically the definition of such and it's only going to be that much more apparent when she stands next to them. At least she's had plenty of practice walking in heels so the white heels she has on shouldn't cause her that much trouble.

Before she starts to get in her head again, she quite literally gets knocked out of her running thoughts when someone bumps into her shoulder.

Even though it wasn’t her fault, she still finds an apology pushing quickly past her lips, “Oh! M’so sor-”

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Matthew smirks down at her. He’s dressed in all black from head to toe with a backward black leather cap on his head.

“Well you should look where you’re going,” She counters back, smiling with her head tilted back in order to look into his eyes.

“If not looking where I'm going means bumping into you all the time, then I don't think I will.”

“Ugh, could you be any more corny?” She teases. “I reckon you haven’t been practicing your pick-up lines these past couple of weeks?”

“Aw come on. I thought that one way was at least halfway decent.”

“YN!”

“Hush!”

Their heads immediately turn over to where the girls are huddled together. Perrie quickly turns her head towards them with a smile after hushing a guilty-looking Leigh Anne for calling YN’s name.

YN turns back to Matthew, throwing a nod toward the girls before saying, “I should get going.”

He nods in agreement. “Yeah, for sure. I gotta head over to my section, too.”

YN nods back and bites back a smile when neither of them makes a move to actually leave, “I’ll see you later then.”

“Later.”

She playfully rolls her eyes at him and turns on her heel towards the direction of the girls.

“Hey, YN?” She turns back towards him with raised eyebrows. Matthew’s eyes trail down her figure before his eyes land on hers again. With the stupid, beautiful smirk on his face, what he says next makes the blood rush to her cheeks. “You look good in that shirt by the way.”

With that familiar warm, fluttery, gooey feeling that would have scared her if Harry didn’t make her feel it first a couple years ago.

“Thanks,” And with that, she lets herself smile at him again before walking towards the girls with a new sense of confidence. She even swings her hips a little bit as she walks away, feeling giddy.

She hasn’t ever felt a confidence like this before.

Going behind the monitor, the girls all watch in excitement of how good the shots came out to be. And YN...well, she’s speechless. She looks beautiful and natural. It surprises not only the director and the girl group, but herself as she manages to move so effortlessly with each shot. She looks absolutely gorgeous showing off her best angles, moving rhythmically with the music blasting, and strutting down the middle of the mirrored white box, sassily high-fiving Perrie as they pass each other.

Already dressed in their blue and white coordinated outfits for the next scene for the video, the girls all stand behind an array of monitors as they look over some of the shots from earlier.

YN stands with her hands on her hips as her eyes bounce around the different screens. In no way, shape or form was she going to get used to seeing herself in this way—looking as sexy and sophisticated as she does. Even now in her white, high-waisted shorts and one shoulder blue top as she’s about to head into the choreographed dance sections of the video, it’s an exciting experience she can’t quite place an emotion on.

For a quick moment, it has her entertaining the idea of what would have happened if she was never taken out of the potential girl group she was placed in after almost being eliminated off of the XFactor. It sends an icky shiver down her spine at the thought of not being with her boys. As much as she loves these girls, no one can ever replace the love she has for her band.

She can hear clapping behind her but what has her spinning around so fast it makes her dizzy is the sound of a familiar, obnoxiously loud whistle that Harry taught her.

“Hey!” YN beams at the sight of her boys walking further into the huge warehouse. She wastes no time quickly making her way over them and throwing her arms around Louis and Niall. “Yeh lads came? For me?”

“We did,” Liam says as he gives his bandmate a quick hug. “Zayn just tagged along to see his lady,” He teases only to get a shove in the arm.

“Tha’s not true,” Zayn defends, his furrowed eyebrows turning into a smile when YN walks into his open arms, “Well, it’s partly true.”

“None taken,” YN laughs over his shoulder. “Li is just bummed because he doesn’t have a woman.”

As Louis and Niall begin to tease and pick on Liam, she can’t help the fond smile that comes across her lips at the sight of Perrie beaming up at her boyfriend before their lips interlock.

“Do I not get a hug then?” Harry teasingly asks behind her.

When she turns around to face him, he looks handsome in his black skinny jeans and worn out band t-shirt. It’s a crime how good he pulls off such basic clothing.

YN scrunches up her nose and looks up at the ceiling, humming in contemplation, “Mmm, nah. M’good.”

His dimples dig into his cheeks at the sound of her surprised laughter when he suddenly tugs her to his chest. The tips of his blunt fingers dig into her exposed shoulder blades and he almost sighs out in relief when he feels her warm hands along the expansion of his back. The guilty feeling of his embarrassing thoughts diminishes when he hears her hum into his collarbones.

“Sorry, know yeh don’t like to be held for too long,” Harry chuckles as he reluctantly pulls away from her warm embrace.

“S’alright,” YN gives him the smile he’s been missing since she’s been away more for this project. “Long hugs don’t bother me as much anymore if they’re with you—you all, the boys, I mean.” She huffs out a nervous chuckle that ends up being her clearing her throat. “Speakin’ of which, a big thanks to you by the way.”

“For what?” He asks with a tilt of his head, stuffing his hands into the tight pockets of his skinny jeans.

“Helping me with all the—” She moves her hands vaguely around her upper body. “—getting used to touchin’ other people type stuff. If it wasn’t for yeh, don’t think I would have been able to do this music video. Dancin’ with me partner and all.”

Aside from Louis, Harry knew more than anyone how much YN wasn’t fond of a little hand-holding, a comforting hand on the back, or even a quick hug. Three years into being in the band with Harry and she internally questions whenever he hasn’t given her a good morning side hug or a squeeze of her hand before heading out on stage. Not to mention how eagerly susceptible he’s made her to a late-night secret cuddle session if either one had some trouble falling asleep.

It should then come to no surprise by how inflated his ego gets at her gratitude for helping her with something that comes easy to him. Especially since it's helping her have fun, feeling confident and comfortable.

“S’no problem, lovie,” Harry reassures with a smile.

“Woah, is that you, love?” Louis leans over to get a better look at one of the monitors. It’s a shot of her walking towards the camera in the white boxed room, her hips swaying from side to side as she sassily throws her hair over her shoulder. “Almost didn’t recognize yeh.”

“Yeah, you actually look like a girl,” Niall teases, throwing his imaginary hair behind his shoulder with a sassy roll of his eyes.

As the boys continue to point out how she looks, Harry’s eyes catch one of the screens that’s playing her solo shot behind a purple background, the shot only showing her from the shoulders up. The music can be faintly heard from all the commotion going around them as the crew members continue to make some last minute touches for the neon lights section. A small smile stays on his lips as he watches her sing along to the chorus, smiling ever so brightly as she seductively moves her upper body to the beat.

He sees a guy come into the shot as he dances around her and doesn’t think of it. He’s there to make YN look even better, giving her the spotlight.

As the song progresses, Harry notices how when her part comes up, she leans her forearm on the guy’s shoulder and continues to sing along with the bridge. He can’t seem to take his eyes off of the screen but his heart begins to sink to his stomach.

“Move it baby, Oh—” YN brings a hand up to the bloke’s chin and with her index finger, she slowly turns his head to face her own. “You know that I've been waiting for you.” The guy breaks out into a cheeky smirk and she continues to sing along, their faces are so close their noses almost touch.

Is that what she was referring to? Is this what she was thanking him for? For indirectly getting her closer to her dance partner of all people? Seems a little unprofessional from his perspective, getting touchy and smiley with a person she’s supposed to be working with.

Before he can have the chance to unclench his jaw, YN is being called over to set.

“See yeh lads in a bit,” YN smiles as she walks backwards towards the set. “Behave yourselves while m’gone.”

She quickly makes her way over to the rest of the girls and the back-up dancers in the small, neon-lighted hallway. It doesn’t take long to spot the bloke he saw getting up close and personal with his...bandmate. She’s his bandmate, someone who he can practically see as a little sister if he squinted long and hard enough. He’s harshly reminded of this reality every day and yet again today as he sees this guy—her dance partner who she’s been supposedly getting up close and physical with—smile at his best friend.

Is it necessary for the guy need to put his bloody hands on YN’s shoulders to guide her to where she needs to stand next to Jesy? Or move a strand of her curly hair away from her face? Wasn’t that the hair and make-up teams’ jobs?

As they end their partner section, she and Matthew raise their hands in a high five before skipping over the right to get out of view from the main hall. The adrenaline that’s running through her veins feels amazing. The total rush of dancing with her whole heart, hitting beats with her body like no one is watching is so exhilarating. She might even go as far as to say that she loves this as much as singing.

“Let’s go, Jade!” YN cheers from the side as the next duo comes into the neon-lighted hallway.

YN smiles out of breath as she watches them dance, one by one they dance with their partners. In the midst of her excitement, she failed to realize that she never let go of Matthew’s hand after they high-fived.

When he looks down at her, she whispers a small, “Sorry,” before beginning to remove her hand from his. Before she can untangle their fingers, Matthew’s grip on her hand tightens. She looks up in surprise and he just smiles back down at her.

“S’alright,” He leans over to her, his sight still on the dancers in front of them. “Just don’t do it again,” Matthew playfully scolds with a smile, continuing to rub his thumb over hers. This time, she doesn't even attempt to hold back her smile at his actions.

Harry is utterly split in two. The sight of her in her outfits as she moves so effortlessly with the music. The way her hips move, her smile, and the energy she brings is unreal.

Even as they move onto the last section of the music video—the full dance routine—she dances with grace and passion and so much umph. She looks amazing in her holster-type top and high-waisted cargo pants. He’s seeing a new side of her come out and he’s happy to see her so carefree.

But on the other hand, his chest tightens watching her get up close and personal with this guy who looks at her with the same eyes he gives her; it is undoubtedly unsettling. He can do nothing but just stand back behind the cameras, arms crossed, and stare with a crease in between his eyebrows as the guy puts his hands on her.

And the worst part is that she looks like she’s genuinely enjoying having this guy all over her. He honestly can’t tell if her smiles are real or merely for the camera—and that kills him. He’s so used to being able to read her so well, but she’s a book in a completely different language as she’s gone all googly-eyed to some other bloke she just met.

...

“Where is she?”

“S’not like her to be this late.”

“She was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago,” Liam checks his phone one more time. “You know, if any one of us were late, she’d be pulling us by the ear and dragging us backstage.”

The boys were all dressed in their small changing area backstage and just about ready to head out on stage to do another show on the band’s third world tour. All the boys were able to sympathize with YN in the beginning as she was doing twice as much work with having to do press interviews and live performances with Little Mix to promote their new single. They saw her for a short amount of time before she had to be whisked away to another plane ride and back again to do a show with her own band.

But that all began to die down about a month ago so she was back with the rest of the boys full time again. With that being said, YN was coming back into her groove of things with being back on tour and performing for thousands of fans every night. Which means that fifteen minutes ago, she should have been backstage with the boys, dressed up and doing her small vocal warm ups and somehow scolding the boys for either being late or for smelling bad—it varied on the day.

It began with her being five minutes late, quickly walking up to her band members with a giddy smile and a compliment saying they all looked nice. She then began to grow ten minutes late, jogging over to her boys with her heels in hand and her cheeks pink, probably due to rushing to get on stage in time. It’s a new record as the band has less than ten minutes before they officially have to get into the positions on stage.

It began to worry Harry to no end, thinking that their management team was pushing her too hard and not allowing her enough time to ease back into their routine.

“Ricard is gonna have a field day when he sees she’s not here,” Niall shakes his head, wringing out his microphone at the thought of their management representative having yet another excuse to scold her on top of her posture, her vulgar language and refusing to wear heels for a show.

Harry bounces slighting on the ball of his feet, taking a final glance at the entrance of the small changing room as if that was gonna make her suddenly appear.

“Alright, m’gonna go check up on her,” Harry hands his microphone over to Zayn.

“What if Dick comes in and he sees both of you lads not here?” Louis points out, already knowing how much his two bandmates get in trouble for the slightest glances.

“Cover for us!” Harry yells over his shoulder before taking off down the venue hallways, ignoring the stares and double takes of the pop star having to be on stage in less than six minutes.

After rounding a few corners, he finally reaches the door with her name beside the door. He gives a quick three knocks before calling out her name.

“YN? Lovie, you in there?” He can faintly hear her voice inside, a shush followed by her giggling. Without a second thought he presses the code on the keypad. She let him in on the password out on a whim when he wanted to grab his jacket he let her borrow. A piece of information he’s now ungrateful for because as soon as the little light blinks green and pushes open the door, he’s frozen in place.

At least YN is already dressed in her black sparkly dress for the night, but some of it is bunched up by her hips as she sits on top of the vanity. The sound of lips breaking apart rings through his ears as he sees none other than her dance partner pressed up against her, grabbing onto her hips as if he was ready to pull her dress the rest of the way up.

Her bubbly laugh and breath-taking smile is instantly shut down when her gaze meets Harry. The two band mates are deers in headlights and if she wasn’t gripping onto the man’s biceps, she would have thought she was dreaming. No not dreaming, in a nightmare. She’s instantly pushing the man off of her and adjusting her dress.

“Harry...I...” Her words get caught in her throat. She watches as Harry's eyes bounce back and forth between her and Matthew and she couldn’t be more mortified. The bloke that had his mouth over hers merely seconds ago doesn’t even say a word, only covering his mouth with his head tilted down at the fact they were caught.

Finally having the words to speak, Harry utters out, “We’re on in three.”

Without another word, unglues his feet from the floor and hurriedly walks back down the hallway. His mind is going at a million miles a minute. He’s hurt and angry and confused. Ever since the filming for the music video has been wrapped, she’s never mentioned this bloke once. She’s never led onto having feelings for her dance partner whether she’s performing with him or talking in interviews with the other girls; nothing!

It shouldn’t come to that much of a surprise as it is, she’s trained for this sort of stuff, they both are. They’ve been doing it for years and it somehow feels like a betrayal when she uses her media training against him.

“Harry! Harry, please wait up!” YN looks frantic as she finally catches up to her band mate, a state he’s not used to seeing her in, although she’s practically jogging next to him with the rate in which his long legs take their strides. “It’s uh, it’s not what you think. See I—”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” Harry interrupts her. When he takes a glance at her he sees how she’s holding her heels in her hand while trying to tame her hair with the other. He only allows himself since he can’t stand to see her cheeks pink and lips swollen.

“But I, Harry I can’t,” YN stumbles over her words and it scares them both to not hear her be so composed. “Harry,” She stops them by placing a hand on his arm. She searches his eyes and as troubled as he is, he can’t look away. “Harry, I need yeh to do me a favor. The biggest favor anyone can ask,” When she’s met with his silence, she takes in a shaky breath. “Can...can you keep what you just saw between us? I can’t have anyone know about me and Matthew. Everything’s been so good so far and, and I really like this guy, H. If everyone were to find out about it, the media, the fans, Richard, it’d be ruined in an instant. Just, please. Please don't tell anyone.”

As much as he wishes she would have said that what happened with this Matthew guy was a mistake, that it was fling that all the other guys she’s had, he’s met with an inevitable reality. She’s found someone, she’s found someone else to indulge her feelings towards. To act out her new found liking for physical touch and be flustered by minutes before having to go out on stage.

How long? How long has this been going on? Is this why their late night cuddle sessions stopped? Is this why her cheeks get pink and why her attitude has been giddy even behind the spotlight? How and when did this guy come in and out of the venues undetected? How many times has she come out on stage after having her mouth all over this bloke only to touch Harry’s arm as if he was the only guy in the world?

Before he can come up with a proper way around to let her down with her doe eyes looking up at him, a voice breaks the silence.

“There better be a bloody good reason why the two of you aren’t backstage right now,” Richard’s voice booms throughout the hallway. He’s dressed in his usually cream colored, three piece suit that never fails to make a witty comment fall out of YN’s mouth every time he pays a visit.

There are many reasons why Harry wants to protect YN, but the one that has him instantly stepping up in response is when her eyes stay wide as if she might cry at any given moment and her mouth moving like a fish out of water.

“YN’s aunt is sick,” Harry easily lies. Another helpful aspect of his media training. “She was on the phone with the doctors right now and it doesn’t look so good. I called my mum to help make sure she was available to keep a watch eye on her until we’re in England again. It looks like she might need a miracle to recover.”

If looks could speak, YN would be granting Harry with a long list of gratitude.

“Oh,” Richard straightens up, clearing his throat and tugging sharply at his blazer. “M’sorry to hear that. Now let's get a move on before we have to pay these backstage technicians overtime.”

If her mind wasn’t somewhere else, she would have rolled her eyes at how easy it was for their strict management representative to quickly accept Harry’s excuse (no matter how good it was) while he would have dismissed hers in a heartbeat. Without another word, the pop stars are quickly escorted backstage. While YN’s hair and make-up team walk with her to touch up her look, the scowl never leaves Harry’s face as he walks further ahead of them and snatches his microphone from Zayn’s hand.

“Where did you find her?” Zayn asks, surprised by his band mate’s actions. “You guys alright?”

“Her aunt’s sick,” Harry mutters before pushing past the boys to get to his section of the stage. They all share a questioning look among themselves as they glance back and forth between Harry and YN.

“I wonder which one it is. Never met any of her aunts before,” Niall ponders with concern only to get a slap on the shoulder.

“She doesn’t have any aunts, you twit,” Louis points out as the confusion only rises. Yet there’s no time to question any of them as YN walks over to her position behind the lifting screens and doesn’t say another word and the opening music begins to play.

There’s no doubt that the fans notice the lack of interaction between their most favored shipped duo. Despite their bubbly and excited stage presence, the awkward tension between the two band members could have cut with a knife.

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