#then they are probably lost and should look elsewhere

[meadowfics]

blood on your hands

kang dae ho x f!reader

in which you commit an act so unforgivable, yet reasonable

warnings: murder, death, nsfw!! 18+, minors please dni. smut with plot. oral (dh receiving). switch!daeho. switch!reader. praise. no PinV. VERY long chapter. dark chapter. original plot changes. y/n is used. reader is player 099. reader is the murderer. established relationship with dae-ho before the games. this takes place after the mingle games. the original character in this fic is player 123. I am not responsible for the content you choose to read after you hit, "keep reading"

4.6k words

the bathroom is a mess of bodies and tension.

the air thick with sweat, fear, disgusting body waste, and the sharp buzz of the overhead fluorescent lights. the guards stand at the entrance, their rifles slung carelessly over their shoulders, barely paying attention. 

they know no one is dumb enough to try anything here, not after the mingle game.

a game in which you barely survived too.  

anyways, you should be focusing on keeping jun-hee safe, making sure she gets in and out of here without trouble, but your mind keeps circling back to dae-ho.

your man. 

the love of your life. 

the marine’s voice is still fresh in your ears.  

"stay safe, no heroics."

all of the women were assigned to all go to the bathroom before lights out. you had smiled at him, something small, something just for him. 

"i’ll be okay," 

you had promised, squeezing his hand. 

"i'll stay with jun-hee the whole time."

he hadn't liked it. you could tell by the way his jaw clenched, by the flicker of hesitation in his eyes, like he wanted to argue but knew it would only make things harder. he is super protective about you, even before the games back at home.

in the end, he let you go, but not before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering like he was trying to memorize you.  

"come back to me." 

you had nodded. you always would.  

the two of you had been together for years. your relationship wasn’t new, wasn’t fragile. it was something built, something strong, something that had withstood everything life had thrown at you before the games.  

this?  

this was different.  

this was a nightmare neither of you had ever prepared for.  

when you first locked eyes after red light, green light, it felt like the world had cracked open. neither of you had known the other would be here. 

neither of you had imagined, in your worst nightmares, that this was how you’d meet again after not seeing each other for days.  

after meeting the salesman, the both of you had a plan to pay off each other's debts. unaware that the other had the same exact plan too.

the first game, dae-ho had stormed across the bloodstained ground, past the trembling bodies of the survivors, past the bodies that would never move again, and grabbed you like you were slipping through his fingers.  

“why are you here?" 

his voice had been raw, panicked. 

"how…why…"  

"why are you here?" 

you had shot back, just as desperate, just as lost.  

you both had kept your struggles quieter than you should have, thinking you could handle them alone. thinking you didn’t have to drag each other down.  

it didn’t matter now.  

now, all that mattered was surviving. together.  

which was what led you here…standing in a sea of exhausted, wary women, pushing into the bathroom with jun-hee behind you and hyun-ju in front, keeping them close, like a shield.  

you aren’t the only one on edge. hyun-ju’s beautiful eyes are scanning, assessing. she turns around and catches the way your fingers twitch at your sides, the way your shoulders stay stiff.  

"you okay?" her voice is low, careful.  

you force a small nod. 

"just need to pee badly."  

it’s a lie.  

hyun-ju knows. she reads people too well…probably from whatever special forces training she’s had. 

she doesn’t press, just gives you a look before shifting her attention elsewhere.  

it’s not the bathroom that has you tense.  

it’s her.

player 123. 

she’s already ahead, pushing through the group like she owns the place along with her goon’s, loud and grating. she hasn’t stopped talking since mingle. hasn’t stopped running her mouth.  

"you see that one triangle guard earlier?" 

she crows to no one in particular, shoving her elbow into the woman next to her. 

"dude was practically asleep. i bet i could’ve grabbed his gun…boom, game over."  

the woman beside her gives a nervous laugh, stepping away. no one outside of her dickriding goons wants to be near her…she’s too reckless, too unpredictable.  

your fingers curl into a fist at your side.  

you don’t trust her. not after what happened in the six-legged penalathon.  

you and player 123 had almost killed each other. 

it had been an accident, but that didn’t matter. the two of you had made a mistake, a single misstep, a moment of hesitation that had nearly sent both of you crashing to your deaths. and she blamed you.

the audacity. 

when jun-hee came to your group, asking to join. you gave up your spot for the woman. dae-ho protested, but you told him that the pregnant woman needs to live, so being with men will help her. 

dae-ho intensely watched you as you approached 123 and her group of 4. player 123 said you could join, since she needed another woman who looked, “as fit as you.” 

however, that was a mistake.. since you both nearly tripped when you were running to the finish line.

since then, she hated you..

you weren’t exactly fond of her either.  

you keep jun-hee behind you as the crowd shifts into the cramped bathroom. it’s a tight space, bodies pressing in on all sides. no privacy, no safety.  

you aren’t the only one feeling it…jun-hee shifts uncomfortably, pressing a protective hand over her stomach. you glance at her, lowering your voice. 

"we’ll be quick. i won’t let anything happen."  

she nods, trusting.  

too trusting.  

you can feel player 123's presence, her laughter cutting through the thick air like a blade. she’s talking again, louder now, complaining about everything.

"this is ridiculous," she groans, kicking the bottom of a stall. 

"they’re treating us like animals. like we’re not even people."  

you bite back the urge to snap.  

because that’s the thing...she’s not wrong. 

that doesn’t make you hate her any less.  

hyun-ju watches you carefully from the side, tracking the way your body tenses, the way your fingers tap against your leg like you’re holding yourself back from something.  

"she’s not worth it," hyun-ju mutters under her breath.  

you exhale sharply, steadying yourself. 

"i know."  

that doesn’t stop you from keeping an eye on player 123. doesn’t stop the weight of her presence from pressing into you. 

because in a place like this, grudges can get you killed.

the guards stand lazily outside of the entrance, their rifles hanging at their sides, not paying attention. 

they don’t care about the many players inside one hot room. 

but you do.  

you keep jun-hee close, guiding her toward the stalls. she looks miserable, her hand resting over the curve of her belly, shoulders tight with exhaustion.  

"y/n, i just need to sit for a second."  

jun-hee pulls you towards the first stall.

she goes into one of the stalls, locking it behind her, and you let out a slow breath. your heart is still racing. not because of the guards, not because of the way the other women keep their eyes peeled for weakness…but because of player 123.

you hear her voice somewhere off to the side, barking out a laugh, too loud, too confident.  

"these stalls are disgusting, i swear to god. like what do they want us to do? piss outside?" 

she’s talking to no one in particular, but the woman next to her lets out a forced chuckle, clearly too nervous to ignore her.

“she is so fucking annoying!”  

you think.

your jaw clenches, fingers twitching at your side.  

you don’t trust her. you never have.  

so when jun-hee comes out of her stall, you decide to go in after her. not because you need to pee, but because you don’t want to have to go later, when things could be worse.  

“i’ll be quick," you murmur, passing by hyun-ju, who is by the sinks, watching everything like a hawk.  

"stay alert," she tells you.  

you nod, stepping inside the stall, locking it behind you.  

you sit, but your mind is elsewhere, lost in the horrors of the game.  

everything blurs together…the blood, the screams, the crack of bones snapping under pressure. you squeeze your eyes shut, pressing your palms into your thighs, trying to push the thoughts away, trying to remind yourself that you're still here. still breathing. still alive. 

BANG. 

your entire body jolts at the sudden impact against the stall door.  

"can you hurry the fuck up?"  

that voice. 

your blood runs cold.  

player 123.  

you don’t say anything, don’t react, hoping she’ll just move on, but then

she crawls under the stall.  

your breath catches in your throat, horror spiking through your veins as her hands and knees scrape against the filthy tile, her face appearing under the gap before she pulls herself inside, into your space.

"are you fucking stupid?" 

you snap, scrambling to pull your joggers up as you stagger to your feet.  

she just laughs.

loud, grating, obnoxious.  

"oh? oh, look at that." she grins, rocking back on her heels. 

"it’s the stupid bitch who almost got us killed!"  

your fists clench.  

"get the fuck out," 

you hiss, pushing past her to unlock the door.  

she follows you.  

you storm toward the sinks, your entire body thrumming with rage. she’s right on your heels, her voice sharp and mocking as she keeps egging you on.  

"what’s wrong, 099? mad i called you out? mad that you’re such a weak bitch who made it this far? "  

you ignore her, stepping toward the sinks where hyun-ju and jun-hee are.  

she doesn’t stop.  

"you think you’re some big hero? sticking with your little group like you’re different from the rest of us? newsflash, sweetheart…nobody here is safe."  

your hands shake. you grip the edge of the sink, trying to steady yourself.  

then she says it.  

"you know... i started to notice how close you and player 388 are. are you guys together?" 

123’s tone shifts, turning cruel, taunting. 

you stare at her through the mirror, hoping she shuts the fuck up. 

"wait, awee you guys are together! you know.. he’s such a charm. i cannot wait to steal him when you die during the next game!"  

that’s it.  

before you can even think, your body moves on its own.  

you turn, your fist flying through the air, and the impact is satisfying to your mind and knuckles. 

CRACK.

your knuckles collide with her face, sending her stumbling backward, her body hitting the ground with a hard thud.  

someone gasps. 

her goons rush forward, helping her up.  

hyun-ju steps toward you, eyes sharp, but before she can say anything—  

all hell breaks loose.

somewhere in the room, another fight erupts.

two randome women claw at each other, snarling like wild animals, hair being pulled, screams echoing off the tile.  

and then, like a chain reaction, everyone starts fighting.  

jun-hee stumbles back against the wall, hiding, pressing her hands over her stomach, panic flashing across her face. she knows she doesn’t stand a chance in this chaos.  

hyun-ju moves quickly, diving into the mess, trying to break up fights before they get worse.  

you…you don’t get the chance.  

because player 123 tackles you. 

you slam into the sink counter, pain exploding through your ribs.  

"you wanna fucking hit me, huh?" 

she seethes, grabbing onto your shirt. 

"you bitch! you think you’re tough?"  

you fight back, gripping her by the shoulders, trying to throw her off. but she’s strong, fueled by anger, by adrenaline.  

you both go crashing to the ground. 

she’s on top of you, fists flying.  

one punch.  

two.  

three.  

your face is bruised, bloodied.

your vision goes blurry, the taste of iron thick in your mouth as blood pools around your molar teeth.  

you gasp, hands scrambling for anything. 

you grip 123’s neck, trying to choke her, trying to stop her punches, but she just snarls, yanking at your hair, slamming your head back against the tile.  

someone—se-mi—tries to pull her off.  

but it’s not working.  

you’re losing. 

then  

something presses against your thigh.

your metal fork.

the one from earlier’s meal. the one you saved, just in case something like this happened  

your fingers close around it inside of your pocket.  

without thinking..without hesitating.. 

you move your right hand quickly and plunge it into her neck.  

she freezes.  

123’s brown eyes go wide.  

her hands, her fists, stop.

she limps, her body crumbling.  

however, that was not enough. 

something inside you snaps.  

you stab.

again.  

again.

again.

again.  

again.  

over and over and over until.. 

"STOP!"  

arms pull you back… hyun-ju.

your breath is ragged, your chest heaving.  

player 123 is dead. 

her body is still. 

her blood is everywhere. 

you don’t realize what you’ve done…not really…until hyun-ju drags you into the hallway, pushing you against the wall beside a guard.  

you’re hyperventilating. those pink lungs of yours cannot seem to catch a breath.

hyun-ju doesn’t yell at you. doesn’t scold you for murder since that would be hypocritical of her. she just takes the bloody fork from your hands, wipes at the blood on your face…though your 099 shirt is already soaked in red. 

"breathe," she orders.  

you can’t.  

"what did i do?"  

jun-hee stands nearby, eyes wide, face pale.  

she looks at you, then at the bodies inside.  

"nothing. since nothing will be mentioned to the others," 

she says quietly.  

you nod.  

silent. 

back to the dorms.. you can barely walk.  

your legs feel like they don’t belong to you, and the weight of what you just did claws at your chest, sinking deep into your ribs, making it hard to breathe.  

hyun-ju keeps her arm wrapped tightly around you, holding you up, making sure you don’t collapse under your own exhaustion. your shirt is soaked in blood..

some yours, most of it hers. 

player 123 is dead. 

you did that.  

you killed her.  

yet, in this moment, all you can focus on is putting one foot in front of the other as you and the remaining women shuffle back into the dorms.  

the second the doors open, the tension inside the dorm shifts.  

the men had heard everything.  

the screams.  

the fighting.  

the pounding of bodies slamming against the walls, the stalls, the sinks.  

the killings.  

it was a nightmare. 

and dae-ho almost ran after you.

he had almost lost his mind when the first screams from multiple women echoed through the halls, his entire body lurching forward, ready to run, to fight, to protect you, before jung bae grabbed him.  

"don’t." jung bae had hissed, forcing him to stay put. 

"we don’t know what’s happening yet."  

"it’s a fucking massacre, that’s what," young-il had muttered under his breath, his face pale as they all listened.  

dae-ho couldn’t stay calm.  

he was barely breathing, his hands clenching and unclenching, his mind running a thousand miles a minute.  

you had told him you’d be okay.  

you had promised.  

but then why did the screaming keep going?  

why did it sound like hell itself had broken loose in there?

at one point, it sounded like you were screaming.

it was, it was when you were repeatedly stabbing 123 over and over again.  

back in the dorms, dae-ho kept trying to reason with himself.  

you don’t start fights.  

you aren’t reckless.  

then he remembered the way you and 123 had argued after your group barely survived the six-legged penalathon…by four fucking seconds.  

he remembered 123 cursing you out, yelling about how you should’ve died instead of her almost falling.  

he remembered the way you just flicked her off, walking away.  

she was a loose cannon.

123 was like thanos and namgyu smashed into one woman.  

what if—  

the doors open.  

the women return.

and it’s worse than he imagined. 

the ones who come back look horrible. 

some are bloody. some have fresh bruises. some have torn shirts, missing shoes, swollen faces.

but not as many women return as there were when they left.  

dae-ho’s stomach drops.

he scans the group frantically. 

the marine’s heart hammers.  

his eyes land on hyun-ju and jun-hee first…both fine, exhausted but fine. 

then he sees you and his blood runs cold.  

his baby. his love.  

you look destroyed. your face is bloodied. your right eye is swollen.  there’s a deep cut above your eyebrow, blood trailing down your cheek, dripping onto your already soaked shirt.  

your lips are busted.  

your knuckles are bruised and your hands are shaking. 

"what the fuck happened?"  

dae-ho’s voice is sharp, broken.

hyun-ju doesn’t answer right away.  

instead, she tightens her grip on you, like she’s trying to shield you from his panic.

it’s too late.

he pushes forward, prying you out of hyun-ju’s arms, cradling you in his own. 

his hands hover over your face, your wounds, your bruises, like he doesn’t know where to touch, where to fix, where to start.  

"baby, oh my god, what did they do to you?" his voice breaks. 

he lifts you into his arms, carrying you straight to his bed, settling you down gently, as if you might shatter if he moves too fast.  

you don’t say anything.  

you can’t.  

because if you open your mouth, if you speak,you might just say what you did. 

so instead, you stare at the ceiling, your breath shallow, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you.  

hyun-ju and jun-hee exchange a look.  

they don’t tell him.  

they don’t say what really happened. 

that is your place, not theirs. 

they don’t tell him that you killed player 123 in a fit of survival and rage, stabbing her over and over again until her body was lifeless.

instead, hyun-ju lies. 

"a fight broke out. everyone was attacking each other."  

dae-ho’s jaw tightens, his eyes flicking over every bruise, every wound, every drop of blood. 

"and she was attacked?"  

jun-hee nods.  

"we barely made it out."  

dae-ho exhales sharply, his hands trembling as he tears a piece of his 388 shirt, dipping it into some cup of water (belonging to gi-hun) before gently pressing it against your wounds.  

"fuck, i should’ve been there," he mutters. 

"i should’ve protected you."  

you swallow.

dae-ho’s words make your chest ache in a way you can’t explain.  

he doesn’t know.

he doesn’t know what you did. 

he doesn’t know that you aren’t just hurt.  

you are a killer now. 

across the room, young-il/001/the frontman undercover watches you carefully as he sits beside a worried gi-hun and jung-bae. 

his eyes linger. 

he knows. 

he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make a scene, but you catch the way he scans the room, the way he takes note of who came back..and who didn’t. 

123 isn’t here

he knows.  

you don’t look at dae-ho. 

you can’t  

because then you’d have to acknowledge it. and right now, you just want to pretend. 

pretend you didn’t just take a life.  

pretend you’re still you.  

the speaker comes on and the room freezes as everyone listens. suddenly, the names of the eliminated players in the women’s bathroom echo through the dorms.  

"player 037. eliminated."

"player 272. eliminated."  

"player 081. eliminated."  

"player 410. eliminated." 

"player 008. eliminated."  

"player 072. eliminated." 

and then..  

"player 123. eliminated." 

the second her number is called, the room shifts in your perspective. 

your stomach twists.

dae-ho’s eyes snap to you.  

then to hyun-ju.  

hyun-ju turns away.  

you tense.  

but he doesn’t know. 

not yet.  not yet.  

because lights out is coming.

during lights out, you wake up to dae-ho who is looking up at the ceiling. the ceiling where the gold pig sits with all of the money. the money from the dead players. 

“baby, is everything alright?” 

you ask lightly, putting your hand on his upper thigh as he looks over at you. 

the man smiles lightly, brushing a piece of hair off of your forehead as you close your eyes.. taking in his touch. 

“i should be asking you that.” 

dae-ho responds. 

of course you are still thinking about the murder you committed. however, you know that there will not be any legal consequences. the guards and this whole game is illegal itself!

however, you wonder how dae-ho will look at you. 

he used to talk to you about a murder that he committed while he was in the marines. the one thing that started his PTSD while serving. however, he was forced to do that.

you were not forced. 

well, that is debatable. 

since you were acting in self-defense. 

you brought your sore lips over dae-ho’s and started kissing him soflty, moving his hands to your ass while you sat your clothed core on top of his bulge. 

“y/n.” 

he groans through your lips. 

“hm.” 

you smirk. 

“is this alright? i don’t want you to feel uncom–” 

“we need a distraction, dae-ho.” 

two minutes later, your lips around around his fat tip. the marine’s head laid back against the hard wall, his pants pulled down to his ankles as you took his whole length inside of your throat. 

you were distracting yourself. your focus is fully on your lover’s scent, his big dick in your throat, your hands massaging his balls, and the way your lashes batted up at his eyes while you sucked his dick. 

this is the only way you can distract yourself from earlier. the murder. the murder you commited.

dae-ho wrapped your hair in a ponytail with his hands while you continued to do your work. you concentrated your tongue on a particular vein on his shaft while arching your back in the process. 

"fuck, you're sucking me off so perfectly."

your boyfriend of five years reaches over to massage your clothed ass, groaning softly as you deepthroated his cock. 

obviously, sucking his cock during lights out, where a player can easily see you, was not ideal for most people. however, you refused to pull dae-ho into a bathroom and do it. not where you killed 123. 

dae-ho’s cock twitched inside of your throat and you hummed, feeling his white load spill inside of your mouth and throat. 

the man puts a pillow over his head, so the pillow can block out his loud pornographic moan he spoke out. 

you were always so good at sucking his dick, oh how much he missed it while the games were happening. 

you helped your boyfriend pull his boxers and pants back on. the man flipped you over and kissed all over your neck, but you cringed. 

not because of dae-ho, not at all. you were so desperate for his tongue on your clit but somehow.. you started smelling the metallic blood from earlier. 

123’s blood. 

tears fill your eyes almost immediately.

when dae-ho realized that you were crying out of fear instead of pleasure, he stopped instantly. he pulled you into his arms as you stained his shirt with your tears. 

you started to hyperventilate again. 

dae-ho keeps you in his arms, but pulls your head off of his chest in order to help yourself breathe.

“baby, please breathe.” 

dae-ho panics, nearly having tears in his eyes too. 

“dae-ho, i-i-ca-can’t. i’m ah-a monster.” 

you coughed out. 

dae-ho frowns. 

“no you’re not!” 

he mumbles confidently, truthfully. 

“you’re my angel.” 

you cry more, shaking your head with a frown. 

“angels don't kill people, dae-ho.” 

you sob, wiping your nose with your blood stained jacket. 

“what?” 

dae-ho’s eyes widened. 

“sh-sh-she was so close to killing me i-in there!”

you start shaking, dae-ho holds your hands as you try to recall the memory. 

your lips turn pale. dae-ho holds the back of your head with his large hands as more tears fall down your face. 

“dae-ho, i killed 123!!! the fork i-i ha-had when we ate the bibimbap to-together! she almost beat me to death so i stabbed her.” 

your hands started shaking to the point where dae-ho had to hold them. 

not only was the memory so traumatic, but you were started to think that dae-ho would leave you. 

scared that he would not want someone who is a murderer.

dae-ho’s eyes are widened, he cannot say anything. 

“puh-pl-please say something! i swear it was in self-defense!! she did this to me-” 

you pointed at the bruises and cuts on your face.

“i-i couldn’t breathe before i felt the fork in my pocket. i had to, i am so sorry! please forgive me for being a monster!” 

you forced your hands out of dae-ho’s and covered your face, ashamed of yourself. 

dae-ho is everything good in this world. even here, in this twisted, merciless game, he treats you like you’re made of glass…like you’re still the same person he fell in love with before all of this. 

you’re scared.. now you believe that he knows that the girl he’s holding, the girl he’s protecting so fiercely, is not the girl he fell in love with. 

you’re a monster. a murderer. 

the blood on your hands isn’t just yours…it’s 123s.

dae-ho holds you again.. and doesn’t let go of you. not even for a second.  

the marine’s arms stay firmly around you, grounding you as your entire body shakes, as your chest heaves, struggling to pull in air. your lungs burn, your throat closes, and your vision blurs with the overwhelming flood of emotions crashing down on you all at once. 

you can’t stop crying.  

you can’t stop the guilt, the fear, the shame from clawing at your insides, making you feel like you’re being ripped apart from the inside out.  

"i'm a monster," 

you choke out between uneven breaths. 

"i don’t deserve you, dae-ho. i don’t.."  

"stop."  

dae-ho’s voice is gentle, but firm. the man’s hands cup your face, thumbs wiping away the hot tears streaming down your cheeks, even though they just keep coming.  

"baby, listen to me. i understand." 

dae-ho’s voice is steady, warm, full of something so deep and unwavering.. it only makes you cry harder.

"i know. it was self-defense."  

you shake your head, gripping onto his wrists like he’s the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely in this hellhole.

"but i still did it," you whisper, voice breaking. 

"i still killed her."  

dae-ho doesn’t flinch.  

his grip doesn’t loosen.  

his expression doesn’t change.  

"and it would have been you killed if you hadn’t."  

his words hit hard, slicing through the noise in your head.  

you inhale sharply, shuddering. 

"this game… it’s bringing out the worst in all of us." his voice softens, his forehead pressing against yours.

"this isn’t your fault, baby. you were protecting yourself."  

you sob, shaking your head violently.

"no–"  

"yes." he pulls back just enough to look at you, really look at you, his dark eyes full of nothing but love.

"you’re not a monster. you’re still my girl… my angel."  

dae-ho’svoice breaks on those last words, but he keeps going.  

he wants to cry with you.

"when we get out of here, i’ll get us help." he promises.

 "therapy, whatever you need, i’ll be right there with you. we’ll get through this. together."  

your face crumples, your hands tightening in the fabric of his 388 shirt. 

"how can you still love me after this?"  

dae-ho lets out a soft, shaky breath, like he can’t believe you’d even ask that.  

"how can i not? you’re the love of my life. bad or good."  

your chest shakes as another sob wracks through you, but this time, it’s different.

it’s not just grief, it’s relief.  

because he’s not leaving. 

he’s not disgusted.  

he’s not giving up on you. 

"i’m not mad, baby. i’m not mad at you." his lips press against your temple, lingering. 

"and we’re okay. i’m still with you. i’m still going to protect you."  

"we’re okay?" you whisper, almost afraid to believe it.  

he nods, pulling you closer, holding you like he never wants to let go.  

"we’re okay."

masterlist

[chronicallyonline101]

PLS I NEED A RIZ FULL DETAILED BACKSTORY 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

To tell the truth, i WAS going to say no ONLY CUZ Risotto's backstory will eventually be in my fic BUTTTT i realised his BG is in chapter 22, and thats... a long while away... SO i'm being nice and i'm gonna give you a sneak peek of chpt 22 :3 - WARNING THIS IS A FIRST DRAFT, so it has a lot of mistakes in it; it'll probably be different once it's put in DK

TW: Graphic depictions of violence, Character death, References to Self-harm, Intrusive Thoughts, Stalking.

Until it Sleeps:

Moonlight splays in through an open window. It brings with it rays of silence. Eyelids, heavy as leather, fall to a close, and envelop with them a warm cloud of comfort. But the soft glow of the night did little to soothe the cry of a child, torn fresh from the womb; swaddled in blankets, with the warming love of a mother and father. Yet that warmth would soon turn sour - the sky had been a dark crimson the night he was born. 

Continued under the cut!

When a baby opens their eyes for the first time, they should see smiles and kisses. What he saw; stares of horror and gasps of upset, were the opposite of that. For when he had pried his eyelids apart for the first time, he revealed to his family the eyes of Baphomet; blood red, enveloped in a black cloak. He appeared to them a bad omen, a punishment for whatever sins they'd committed. They held no love for their problem child, and so, begged anyone they knew to rid themselves of him:

Despite being so young, Risotto could remember those first few years well. His name hadn't been Risotto Nero back then.

No amount of tossing or turning could ease the pressure in his head, where fatigued thoughts linger; rocky amongst a mind that crashed and rolled like the ocean during a mid-summer storm. He grew up obedient, polite, yet sleepless; his Aunt and Uncle were kind enough, but he feared their rejection more than anything. If his parents could throw him out without so much of a glance, what was stopping them?

As if he were on probation, he spent all his time offering the world a façade of himself. Eleven years he spent inside this shell, hidden inside himself - nobody knew who he truly was, nobody, aside from ---

"What are you thinking about?" 

His cousin. His hair was the same white as that of an angels wings, and his eyes the same holy gold that lined the gates of Heaven. His cousin opposed everything he stood for, and yet younger than him by a year, lacked the awareness that adults held - his cousin wasn't afraid of him. 

"My parents," He had mumbled, almost ashamed at having been caught so lost in his own thoughts. His gaze turned to look at the houses lining the streets they walked - Sicily was pretty during this time of the year, he had always appreciated the greenery in which the warm weather brought with, but his mind was elsewhere; his parents lived on this street. Just around the corner from where he was staying with his relatives. 

Distracted, he didn't see the confused, disgruntled grimace that settled across his cousins face. "Why?"

He had asked. As far as he was aware, there was no need for the older boy to worry over people who would never bother involve themselves in his life. He didn't understand the pain his cousin felt.

Risotto remained quiet as the two passed the aforementioned abode. He kept his silence as the two rounded the corner, and when his cousin realised that he had nothing to say on the matter, changed the subject:

"I found my dad's record collection yesterday, after school," An evil, childish giggle passed his lips. His cousins words caught his curiosity: "Do you want to look at them with me?"

In the doorway of his relatives house, Risotto came to a halt. His silver brow furrowed, unsure. 

"Are we allowed to do that?" He murmured. He didn't want to step out of line - those records belonged to his Uncle, he had no right to snoop around where he didn't belong. He'd never be able to forgive himself if he broke one, even accidentally; it would solidify his status as a bad omen to the family. 

His cousin could only laugh at his hesitance, grabbing him by the sleeve so that he could forcibly drag him inside the house. "Of course it's allowed, if he wanted to hide them from us he would have put them somewhere other than his office!"

At the time, Risotto had wanted to argue against his cousins insistence; mentally, he had countered with the fact that the two probably shouldn't have been in his Uncle's office altogether. However, looking back on it, he was glad he had let his cousin take charge - it was that day, the cage he had built around himself slowly began to unlock. 

The feel of thin plastic between his soft fingertips; scarlet and black, a name ringing through his head. It was so familiar, and yet, this had been the first time he had ever heard of the band. His eyes traced over the album, decorated as if it had been covered in blood, hardly appropriate for an eleven year old to be looking at - while he and his cousin had been busy moseying about the room, they'd hardly taken note of a third person slipping into the room. 

"Kill 'Em All," The voice of his Uncle called out; Risotto near jumped out of his skin at the intrusion, scampering to put the album back in its place on the shelf. A grin graced the lips of his Uncle, eyes crinkling upward in joy. "It's Metallica's first album, you've got a good taste."

Upset that he had been caught where he shouldn't be, Risotto hardly registered his Uncle's amusement. He found his head tipping down to the floor in shame, apologies spewing from his mouth: "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, this won't happen again---"

But his apologies were cut off by his Uncle's laughter. He brushed off Risotto's concern, instead, moving to grab at the album from the shelf. 

"If you two wanted to listen to music, you could have just told me. No need to sneak around like little criminals!" He moved over to ruffle the white hair of his son; envy tugged at Risotto's heart at the sight, but was quickly settled when his Uncle played the music for them - he treated Risotto with kindness, he always did. But, this time it felt different. 

Risotto had been disobedient - a menial crime, sure, but his parents would have taken dire offense to this kind of behaviour. All of a sudden, it was as if the crimson night had cleared; welcoming a warm sky, his turmoil soothed over and he found himself settling amongst the family of his Aunt and Uncle. They regarded him as if he were their own child, and he looked to them like a mother and a father. 

No longer fearful for how he was perceived; he took an acute interest in music. Metallica was his favourite, he liked the guitar. On his twelfth birthday, he was gifted a small, acoustic guitar. His Aunt had saved up for him to have a years worth of lessons for it. Though it didn't sound the same as the loud, electric ones they used in all the songs he listened to - and as he learnt how to play, his cousin grew interested. The next year, he asked his parents for a drum set, and their small, two man band had began. 

As strange as it was, Risotto truly felt as if that was where he belonged; in his Uncle's garage, delicately strumming the strings of his tattered guitar while his cousin bashed the soft paper of a drumkit. Though, as sweet as it was, it didn't please everyone:

In the kitchen of their shared home, Risotto's Aunt - a delicate woman, who shared the long white hair of his cousin - held a hand to her forehead. "Sweetheart,"

She uttered, tone hushed. Her husband looked to her curiously, and a desperate expression befell her. "Could you please tell them to do something else?" The sound of bashing and strumming and horrid singing echoed in the background, painkillers could no longer subdue her headache. "Anything else?" 

Risotto's Uncle remained still, his gaze flickering between his wife and the door that would lead him to the garage. He simpered bashfully: "Oh, but they are having fun! The Summer will be over soon, and they won't have the time to play their little band---"

"---They've been playing for months," She pinched at her temple; her tone was growing sharp, she never usually took this tone. "Why can't they go to the arcade or something like normal kids." 

"Hey, hey, let's not start that right now." Her husband grumbled, he didn't like insinuating that the two were anything other than ordinary - just because they were passionate about something didn't make them different. His brows eased to that of pity. He turned toward the garage door. "I'll tell them to do something else." 

She didn't thank him as he left the room, only turning away sourly. She, on the other hand, didn't like it when her husband shut her down like that - the two couldn't avoid these problems forever. At this point, Risotto was fourteen, and their son thirteen. She knew they were both being bullied at school, and teenagers could be harsh; they lived in a world of their own creation, it wasn't healthy. 

The sound of cymbals clashing grew louder and louder as their Uncle entered the room - he held his hands to his ears, unappreciative that his son had taken to doing what he liked to call a 'metal solo', where he banged his drumsticks against the cymbals repeatedly until he felt satisfied with how 'metal' it sounded. 

"Hey you two..." He spoke up, but his words went ignored. The cymbal solo ended, but was quickly replaced by the rhythm of drums and guitar. The Uncle stepped further into the room, presenting himself in front of the two; he caught his sons gaze first, and when the sound of drumming came to a halt, Risotto quickly looked up - confused. "Hey, your mother has a headache, so I was thinking maybe you two could go play outside?" 

Though reasonable, his words weren't received well. Pursing his lips, Risotto looked to his Cousin. The two shared a brief, silent glance, before turning to the Uncle once again. 

"We need to practice," Was their reasoning, and the two felt just in this reason; how were they supposed to become famous if they stopped practicing every time someone got a headache? James Hetfield didn't stop for anyone, and neither would Risotto.

Huffing in frustration, his Uncle turned around. His gaze flittered about the room, only briefly, before landing on a small football - he quickly plucked it from the ground, bringing it to the two with a soft smile. "Why don't you play with this? It'd be nice to see you both in the sun, for once." 

"But we're enjoying ourselves in here," His cousin pouted, his splintered drumsticks hovering over his kit in anticipation. "Can't mama go somewhere else?" 

The two really were stubborn; refusing to leave despite how much his Uncle would plead. He knew his wife would tell him off for feeding into their bad habits; but then, he knew she would also be upset if he let them continue playing their instruments. So, rifling his hand through his pocket, he pulled out a few wads of lira - waving them in the direction of the two boys, their heads perked up immediately. 

"If you play ball, you can have this." 

In a matter of seconds, the instruments were discarded - tossed, delicately, to the side in favour of crowding around the Uncle. He raised his hands high in the air, frowning at the two indefinitely. Their expressions shifted to something akin to confusion, and so, he pointed toward the door to the kitchen: "You have to play outside for at least an hour before you get this." 

Risotto and his Cousin shared a sour glance; it was hardly a fair deal, alas, the two wanted that money. Risotto thought that it could help them with their band - maybe they could buy some blank cassettes and record over them with their own music. It would bring them just that little bit closer to their dream. His cousin, on the other hand, thought of sweet shops and tat stores; Sicily was known for its markets, he couldn't wait to browse each stall and buy whatever he wanted! 

So, despite their glares and grumbling, Risotto took the red ball from his Uncle. He and his cousin made their way out of the garage, greeting their now smiling Aunt as they crossed the threshold of their kitchen. 

That day, despite the horror Risotto held in his heart, had been warm. Sun-dried leaves rattled across the pavement in a swift swoop, carried along by a gentle breeze that did little to dampen the heat radiated by the midday peak. And though most would have appraised it has a perfect day, it certainly didn't feel like that for Risotto. 

Flinching, he brought a hand up to shield his delicate eyes from the sun - they were sensitive to light, a fact that had only driven his mother and father deeper in their belief that he was a sinful night-breed. He never liked being out much; Why torment himself with the outside world when he enjoyed sitting indoors with the lights dim? 

Nonetheless, determined to pry lira from his Uncle's hands, he tossed the ball to the ground. Kicking it pathetically; it rolled across the lawn for a few short seconds, but was eventually brought to a halt by his Cousin, who planted his foot atop of the ball securely. 

"Can we play Palla Priogioniera?" He plead, Risotto's brow could only furrow at the request.

"There's only two of us," He'd been hoping they'd play something simple, like kicking the ball back and forth or maybe tossing it in the air. Palla Priogioniera was a complex game, usually requiring a two small groups of people, rather than just the two that were there. Similar to dodgeball, the two would stand on either side and lob the ball at each other until one team ran out of players. 

Despite Risotto's dismisal, his Cousin was certain that they could play; he bent down to pick the ball up, spinning it between his fingers playfully. "We can make it work!" 

He threatened to toss it toward Risotto a few times, laughing at the short flinches it wrought from the older boy.

"I don't think we can." He grumbled. He appreciated the eagerness his cousin upheld, but still, there were only two of them - there was no possible way they could play that game. 

While mulling over his own thoughts, Risotto hardly heard his Cousin yelp out a playful: "Look!" And he didn't take note of the ball that flew toward his face - had he known it was coming for him, he'd of dove to the ground to evade it's torment. To no avail, it slapped him square in the face. 

When he fell backward, he winced, hardly registering the ball, which rolled off elsewhere; something warm trickled down his chin, and in horror, he brought his wrist up to wipe at the underside of his nose - streaks of red coated his sleeve. The action had dazed him, his vision blurred, and he found himself gripping at his skull in pain.

A startled gasp left his cousins throat. Darting toward Risotto, the younger boy trembled in panic:

"Sorry, I'm so sorry! I forgot you bleed," He reached out to try and help the older boy up, but his kind actions were brushed aside by Risotto, who grunted in pain. "Please don't tell mama and---"

"Just go get the ball." It took him a few moments, but eventually, Risotto levelled himself. As if he didn't have enough on his plate, as if his childhood hadn't already been wrenching enough - Risotto suffered from haemophilia - he hadn't enough iron in his body to thicken his blood; it ran thin like water, and it caused him to bleed excessively.

Looking back on it, Risotto had missed that time in his life, where his only concerns where whether his band would make it big or if he'd start bleeding at inconvenient times. It was frustrating, but it was simple, and that is why he had hated how he had treated his Cousin back then:

He knew his Cousin had meant no harm; he was only playing around, but he had hurt Risotto and in turn the older boy had neglected to throw caution in the water.

Get the ball.

He had ordered. His Cousin had obeyed: golden gaze flickering upward to scan the street - the ball had rolled away from their lawn, sitting narrowly on the road, just near where the street coiled around a corner.

Wanting to please Risotto, the younger of the two teetered out to the pavement - he spared both sides of the road a brief glance, before running out to pluck it from the ground. He had intended to quickly make his way back onto the lawn, but upon staring at the dull surface of the ball, he caught a glimpse of little specks of red; an ode to how he had hurt his older Cousin.

Turning to look at Risotto - who had since gotten to his feet and was pinching his nose to stop it from bleeding, he swallowed thickly: "We can play whatever you want to play."

He had hoped it would appease Risotto, and at the time, it had: Risotto wished more than anything that he had just agreed to play Palla Priogioniera with his Cousin. He had been such a ball of energy; even if there had only been two of them, he was sure his Cousin would have made up something fun.

But good things could never flourish, not on this sick planet;

"I want to play my guitar." Is what he had wanted to say. It's what he should have been able to say; but instead, with the sound of a blaring horn and tires screeching against asphalt - a panicked: "Get out of the road!" Left his throat, torn with fear while he lurched forward, hands splayed open as if it would offer him some kind of solace.

There was nothing he could recognise more than the snap of bones; the spray of a crimson ichor across black tarmac. Something inside him squirmed, writhing beneath his skin at the sight - it urged him forward, despite the tears that pricked at his eyes, despite the man who had since rolled down his window to slur out drunken curse words, despite how much his logical mind wanted to freeze and cry, he ran into the road; kneeling down before the large vehicle and clawing at his Cousin. 

Twice more, the sound of a car horn shot through the air; the man in the drivers seat was yelling something, but Risotto had hardly registered it - his Cousins wrist was limp in his own grip, mangled in multiple directions and stained a dark red.

The commotion the driver had decided to bring to their small, typically quiet street, alerted Risotto's Aunt that something had gone wrong; her startled shriek clearly scared the driver, for in just a matter of seconds he had reversed his car away from the two boys and swerved from the scene - desperate not to get caught. 

Only a year later, his Aunt and Uncle separated; it wasn't a divorce, they had told him, but they needed space from each other - his Uncle moved inland, while Risotto remained with his Aunt in Sicily. 

The sight of his Cousin splayed out across concrete, a body contorted against in such a foul, inhuman way, was something Risotto would never be able to shake from his mind. They tried to hide the cadaver from him when the paramedics came to take it away, but he had already seen far too much, and the blood that coated his hands and arms served only to make his skin crawl in discomfort. It itched. Writhed; like something was living beneath it. It was all too much for him to handle, tears flowed from his eyes freely.

Thing's could only spiral down from there. Though she tried to hold him in a kind regard; he wasn't her son. In the soft light of the sun, his silver hair reflected white, and for a few moments she could pretend her child was still with her - but then, Risotto would look to her with eyes a dark maroon and she would be reminded of the thing she invited into her home. 

Maybe his mother had been right. Maybe he was a bad omen. His misfortune took her child, the day his Cousin died, he was robbed of his life - he could have been human, he could have been loved; but he was less than that now. 

The older he got, the less he tried to deny the title his family had inflicted upon him. His youth was spent in isolation - rumours spread quickly, nobody wanted to spend time with the boy who killed his own Cousin. Nobody wanted to befriend someone as socially inept as himself; not even his Aunt could look him in the eye. He quickly began to resent the people around him - his Aunt, his classmates, every school teacher that ignored his clear suffering, any counsellor who brushed his upset aside - labelling him as shy, meek, socially anxious; he was ill, he needed help, he needed someone to look him in the eye and tell him to get a hold of himself before he spiralled into something he'd resent - but no one ever did that. Nobody came to his rescue. 

He could still remember the first time he had ever held a blade; it had been smooth and sharp against his supple skin, leaking blood that pricked and pooled across his arms. And even after all this time, he could never wash away those lacerations; pale scars, there to forever remind him of a time in which he was at his lowest.

He had grown quite a lot since his younger years; stretching taller than most, though at this point his frame had been lithe. He hardly took care of himself, forgetting to eat properly most days. His silver hair descended past his shoulders, but it wasn't pretty; greasy and unbrushed, and dressed in all black, he looked like someone to avoid. The people who had any sense to them did avoid him, only foolish people full of themselves had any incentive to mess with him; and it just so happened, the wrong person did exactly that. 

 He liked to collect different kinds of blades.

It started small: Craft knives, swiped from his schools art class, and small kitchen utensils, until eventually he was loitering at markets after hours to buy decorative switchblades - he carried them with him everywhere, though, he had never quite been sure why, not until he was seventeen years old. 

It was a day like no other, in that the finest details had been lost to time; but if there was one thing he could remember better than anything else, it was the face of that wretched man. The man who had taken the life of his Cousin - loitering near a booze shop, no less. The anger Risotto felt had been visceral; he was sure that man had gone to jail, to see him stood here not even three years later chatting with friends, with no hint of regret or upset for what he had done, it sent pure rage through Risotto's veins - red, hot fury, burning deep in his mind. It stopped him from thinking straight; his knife weighed heavy in his pocket, and before he could even think about what he was doing, he had it's handle clutched tightly in his grip.

Yet, he'd had more restraint that day. 

He'd held back. He wasn't a murderer, not like that man. 

But he just couldn't let the thought go. The thought that a singular man had brought so much suffering to his life; in one short minute, this man had ruined him. Risotto would never be the same, no matter how hard he tried, the weight of his melancholy would never lift from his shoulders - he knew he would never be happy, not until he had his hands wrapped around that mans throat, squeezing out every last ounce of justice from his body. 

He would write things down in a journal, things that he hoped would never grace the light of day; excerpts detailing all the different ways he would kill that man, how sick he felt, how much he wanted to hurt himself and how often he wanted to hurt others. 

His thoughts were sudden and intrusive. He knew they were wrong, he knew it was wrong to feel this way, but he couldn't help it.

Every waking moment he spent thinking of how horrible his own life was, when he had never done anything wrong. Why was it that someone so evil could prosper? 

Urged by the uncontrollable itching beneath his skin, he'd find himself walking the streets late at night, bathed in shadows where no one could see him. In pursuit of this man, Risotto had discovered that he had a family - a wife, who he'd known since before the incident, and a two year old daughter, who he'd had since getting out of jail. He'd stopped drinking. Had a job, friends, he was a good person - this should have discouraged Risotto, it should have helped him realise that maybe people can change, however, it only fuelled the fire burning in his heart. 

It wasn't fair that he could move on. It wasn't fair that after all this time, Risotto still suffered from the loss of his Cousin, and yet this man could be happy, he could have a family, he could pretend nothing had happened. 

Risotto had always held pride in his self restraint, but that night, something inside him snapped. His frayed ends of insanity finally burnt up. 

On the Eighth of August, Nineteen Ninety-One, Risotto Nero took his first kill; he stabbed that man thirty seven times. Police statements described his body as 'maimed', the mortician report claimed that it was likely he had been tortured before death. Many criticised his work; they called him careless, he'd been caught breaking into his house on video and both the mans wife and neighbours knew something had happened, but Risotto had never tried to be careful. 

When his Aunt's house was searched, they found his knives, and they found his journal - Risotto remained silent during his court hearings, he had nothing to say on the matter. He had killed that man, what was the use in lying? 

They charged him with first degree murder. Murder with the intent to kill - though, Risotto would disagree. He hadn't intended for anything to happen that night. He had just lost grips with himself. What had happened next, though, Risotto wasn't quite sure whether it was a blessing or a curse:

Passione had found him. 

He spent a few months in jail, only to find that a man by the name of Polpo had paid off a large sum of money to have him removed - bribing his judge to offer him freedom, Risotto was let out on the condition that he follow Passione's orders blindly. Polpo displayed himself as someone Saintly, a saviour, who Risotto owed his all to, and at first, Risotto had followed that sentiment willingly; with no purpose, he had allowed Polpo to pull wool over his eyes. Why shouldn't he have?

Polpo had trained Risotto - by the time he was twenty one, he had bulked up from the scrawny, ratty thing he had once been. He was granted a stand; and suddenly, his affection toward all things metal and sharp made sense. Unconventional as most stands went, it lived inside him, and provided a strange explanation for how often he would feel his skin crawling. And after all that, when he was finally ready, he was granted a team:

La Squadra Di Execuzioni was a team built on trust. Risotto owed Polpo his life, but the dedication he held to Passione wasn't nearly as thick as a loyalty he had to his team. They gave him purpose, meaning, authority - he even fell in love, things he had never experienced before suddenly coming to fruition. So when things hit the fan, when his team had finally fought back against the mistreatment they received;

With three dead, 

Two bedridden,

Three severely injured, 

And one so depressed he'd refused to do anything but sit in bed and stare at his laptop.

It only made sense that Risotto sought revenge. He had been turned to a weapon, and now he would ensure that those who tormented him and his team knew no peace; even if he failed, he would ensure that his name would never be forgotten. Whispered betwixt shadows, people would shudder when they heard of the Risotto Nero, and all the things he was capable of. 

"Sardinia," 

It was a name settled at the very tip of his tongue, yet, uttering it aloud brought bile to the back of his mouth. He stood broadly, eyeing one of his teammates from the corner of their new hideout - the rugged little apartment hardly held the entire team, but it was the safest place they could lay low, just until this entire thing blew over. 

He teetered closer to his teammate, brow furrowed. "That is where they are?"

Slowly, as if a weight was pressing down on him, Ghiaccio lifted his head to look at his leader. A choked sound left his throat, courtesy of the blood-soaked bandages he had wrapped around his throat. "Y..es,"

He croaked, his voice hoarse. Since sustaining his injury, he had been struggling to talk; it was horrid, but, he was thankful he had left that fight mostly intact. He could have returned to his team looking like Prosciutto, or worse, Illuso. Taking a few moments to cough, Ghiaccio grumbled unsurely:

"Melone c...claims they suddenly shifted their direction once they made it to--" He coughed, "Venezia, but," A short, uneasy grimace settled across his face. "We haven't been on best terms since... well," He paused for a moment, biting his bottom lip. "He think's she's still alive. Apparently, while following their team, Babyface has been picking up on traces of her DNA, but---"

"---That's enough,"

The room was enveloped by a blanket of silence. Risotto's lip quivered, he had wanted to say something on the matter, but found himself at a loss for words. He had been evading that topic like some kind of plague; his grief was still fresh, yet, he had no time to be thinking of anything other than getting what he needed. 

Turning away from Ghiaccio, Risotto stormed toward the door to their hiding place. "I'm going to Sardinia. If I do not return, then you leave." 

He turned to look over his shoulder, shooting Ghiaccio a stern, authorative glare. "All of you. You will leave Italy; maybe even Europe, if you have to---"

"---You're going alone?" Ghiaccio seemed a little taken aback at the suggestion. Bucciarati's team had decimated every single member of their team, even some of the most agile and powerful members like Prosciutto had been near killed. But, Risotto held no regard for the dangers his self-inflicted mission held. 

"Yes," He huffed, turning back around to grab at the door which would take him outside. He heard a sound leave Ghiaccio, an attempt to argue back; but his hoarse voice wouldn't let him. Risotto huffed. "Don't try to dissuade me. This is something I must do - even if I took someone, the rest of you are far too injured to do anything." He glanced over his shoulder once more, the crimson of his eyes near glowing amongst the dark of their hideout. "It will take me a day to get there, and a day to return, at the very least. If I do not return by the end of this week, then it's safe to assume I never will." 

Though he was avoiding saying the words, Ghiaccio knew all too well what Risotto was suggesting. He swallowed thickly, nodding his head, and it was with that, Risotto stormed out of the house. With nothing on him but a couple thousand lira and a burning desire for revenge, Risotto would travel to Sardinia. 

It's what he should have done in the first place. 

---

HIHI SO THERE IT IS i think this is the start to chapter 22 of my fic, BUT ITS STILL A DRAFT - i write scenes as they come to me, and often they change quite a bit when they actually get put into the fic SOOO chapter 22 of DK could very well start differently, and YOU NEVER KNOW this could get pushed or pulled to be either earlier or later... also i figured out how to make text small arent I cool?

i didnt know whether i wanted the title to be 'Enter Sandman' or 'Until It Sleeps' cuz while Enter Sandman is a GREAT song that really suits Risotto, it's Metallica's most popular and i fear there are other songs that are underappreciated SO i decided on Until It Sleeps, it's one of my favs and i think it suits Risotto :3

[hephaestuscrew]

When Minkowski hugs Eiffel in Ep31 Sécurité, she just grabs hold of him without making a sound, and the listener only knows about the hug because of the "oof" noise Eiffel makes in reacting to having "the wind knocked straight out of him", and the script directions say that Minkowski has "tears silently streaming down her face", and Eiffel is the one who directly acknowledges the hug verbally ("Don't apologise for hugging"). If all we had was Minkowski's side of the interaction, we probably wouldn't know that they hugged. 

When Eiffel hugs Minkowski in Ep54 The Watchtower, he first tells her "C'mere, give us a hug!", and he makes a happy sound of effort as he squeezes her, and Minkowski - under the influence of Pryce's restraining bolt - doesn't seem to have any reaction at all, which Eiffel doesn't appear to notice. Once again, if all we had was Minkowski's side of the interaction, we wouldn't know that they hugged. 

The question of 'in what ways is the hug made audible?' feels much more significant in audio than it would in any another medium, and I do think it reflects something about these characters and their willingness to be open with their affection. Minkowski "grabs him and hugs him" hard enough to knock the wind out of him, but she does so silently. In a somewhat similar but also very different moment of reunion, Eiffel "embraces her" and he's not quiet as he does it. There's something about how Communications Officer Eiffel is always the one who verbalises their physical affection, whether or not he's the one who initiated the hug. The closest Minkowski gets to verbally acknowledging a hug is through an apology; Eiffel is the one who makes the hugs real for the listener.

[storfulsten]

lol did I just lose 3 followers for mentioning a cool new song? ok

[heavyhitterheaux]

Safety Net

See Me Through You Series

I've never been this scared before

Feelings I just can't ignore

Don't know if I should fight or fly

But I don't mind

Synopsis: Falling for someone else while you were still in a committed relationship was not supposed to be in the cards for you

Series Masterlist

A sigh left your mouth as you looked down at your phone and you rolled your eyes when you saw it was none other than your boyfriend Trevor. It had damn near fell off the table from the vibration and you watched it until it stopped ringing.

It had to be the tenth time that he called you today and it was the tenth time that you had ignored him. It seemed as if you and your boyfriend were arguing more than usual and it was honestly the last thing you wanted to deal with. There seemed to be a shift when you had gotten accepted to LSU and you applied there to be near him since he was a year older than you and you honestly had no clue what his problem was. He asked you specifically to do it and you were all for it. If you knew then how it would be, you probably would have applied elsewhere.

Any time you tried asking him about how he was feeling or if something was wrong since it seemed like there was, all you got was an attitude in return. He would pick fights for no reason, you would get upset and not talk to him while he went on to beg for your forgiveness when it was all said and done. The latest fight had been about how you wanted to stay in and have a study date instead of going out for date night when he knew that you had a test the next day that was a big percentage of your grade seeing as there weren't a lot of assignments to begin with for that particular class. Of course he told you no, and you left it at that.

Being your first semester, you had taken on a lot more than you could handle and you were now feeling the effects seeing as you were about a month and a half in. Last night you went to one of LSU's home football games because not only did Ja'Marr beg you to come, but Joe did also and was out until damn near four in the morning.

You could tell that he was getting more comfortable being a starter and they had been playing amazing. It was now Sunday night and you were trying to make up for lost time when your phone vibrated once again at your desk. Except, an instant smile came upon your face when you saw who it was and quickly answered.

“Joey…”

“Princess, why haven't I seen you yet? I thought you were coming tonight.” He asked you without giving a proper greeting. You could hear a bunch of commotion in the background and you simply assumed he was at another party.

Ever since the two of you met that first day in the gym, the nickname princess had stuck.

“Uh? Coming where? I was literally out with you, Ja'Marr and Justin until FOUR in the morning. I was UNWELL. I couldn't even see anymore by the time I got home.” You expressed and all you heard was his laugh. In your head you imagined that he was probably shaking his head too.

“Couldn't see anymore? Really? Now that's dramatic, even for you.”

“Excuse me!? Look, all I know is my eyes were red and my contacts were dry as hell and the THREE OF YOU kidnapped me.”

“Well I'm about to kidnap you again. At least for a few hours.”

“I have another EXAM to study for, sir. You got to have me all last night.” You told him as you had taken out your highlighters from your pencil case and set them on your desk.

“And? I want to have you all night again. But I promise not to have you out that late.” Joe told you and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

At this rate, Joe spent more time with you than your actual boyfriend and actually wanted you to be around him. He was always down to have a study session with you unlike Trevor.

“Hmm, what time did you plan on having me out until?”

“Three give or take.”

“JOEY that is literally only a one hour difference!” You exclaimed as you shook your head in disbelief.

“You don't take your exam until later in the week! I've helped you study and you're going to be fine. Come on, I want to see you. I forgot what you looked like and I need a reminder to be in person.”

“You are such a hot ass mess and you have been around my brother too long because that sounds like exactly something he would say. Take a picture next time.”

“I could take one tonight if you let me see that pretty face of yours.”

With a deep sigh and a groan escaping your lips, you finally gave in.

“I'm ignoring that last part.”

“Why? I called you pretty and it's a compliment.” Joe asked, suddenly confused.

“And I'm not single, which you already knew.”

“Hmm, at least not yet. But I'll patiently wait my turn.”

You were glad that it wasn't a facetime call because your jaw had literally dropped and it took you a second to close your mouth.

It was quiet for a few seconds and Joe had to make sure that you didn't hang up.

“Princess, you still there?” Joe asked and the music in the background distracted you for a second.

“Just text me the address.”

“Can't wait to see you, gorgeous. Text me when you're outside.”

As soon as you hung up, Joe sent you the address and then you went to ransack your closet to find something to wear. Looking through your closet, not only was your mind racing, but your heart was too.

Joe had a crush on you, that much was obvious but the last thing you wanted to happen was for it to suddenly be awkward between the two of you. Why did you suddenly get butterflies when he's around, but when it comes to Trevor you felt absolutely nothing? You were nervous that it would get to the point that you would make an absolute fool out of yourself in front of him. But at the same, why should you care? You had a boyfriend.

The more you kept thinking about it, the more you were probably going to hurt your brain so you put your focus solely on searching for an outfit. In the back of your closet, you found a short black dress staring back at you. It was already known that you had the perfect shoes to go with it, so the answer that you came to was yes almost immediately.

After taking a quick shower and straightening your hair, the dress was slipped on along with the shoes. You did a once over in your floor length mirror that you had gotten from IKEA and nodded to your reflection in approval. Looking at your phone, you saw that it was close to ten at night and the goal was to get there as soon as possible in order to be able to get back as soon as possible.

The drive was a short one and once you pulled up, you saw multiple people hanging out outside including someone who was shitfaced on the front lawn of whoever's house it was. Shaking your head to yourself, you quickly pulled out your phone and sent a text to Joe in order to let him know that you were here.

Less than three minutes later, you saw him come out of the front door and take the steps two at a time to make his way to your car. Getting out, you closed your door and made sure to lock it before turning to face him as he had come up to you from behind.

“Hey, I'm here just like I promised. Since you know that you forgot what I looked like and wanted to see me in person.” You told him while rolling your eyes he smirked.

“Nothing changed from last time. Still as gorgeous as I remember.” He responded as the two of you started walking towards the front door.

“You literally just saw me last night and I don't have any idea what I'm going to do with you.”

“I could think of a few things I want to do with you. Just let me know when you're ready to find out.” He whispered and you simply shook your head.

Once the two of you crossed the threshold, his hand was on the small of your back as he guided you through the swarm of bodies and soon made your way to the kitchen where Justin and Ja'Marr were in the middle of an intense game of beer pong.

“About time you showed up, big sis. Tell the little bro that he is about to get his ass kicked.” Justin told you as it was Ja'Marr’s turn who looked at Justin to suck his teeth.

“I am not! How is that possible when I’m definitely winning right now?!” Ja’Marr asked as rolled his eyes.

“I just don’t see how the three of you have so much energy.” You said as you looked at all three of them.

“Yesterday we were pregaming.”

“Justin?! Pregaming?!?! We were out for hours!” You exclaimed as he looked at you and shrugged.

“You made it back home in one piece, didn’t you?”

“Of course she did because Joe wouldn’t let her out of his sight.” Justin quietly said but you could see Joe turn a slight shade of red while Ja’Marr smiled.

Since Joe and Ja’Marr had grown closer in the almost three months that he had been down here, Ja’Marr knew for a fact that Joe liked you and had been infatuated with you ever since he introduced the two of you to one another. He had his suspicions that you liked him back, but he wasn't so sure.

He would try to do everything that he possibly could to get you away from Trevor.

Joe had walked away from the three of you for a minute and when he returned he handed you a red solo cup. Before holding it up to your lips, you looked inside of it to inspect what it was. You could count on one hand the times that you had gotten drunk and rode it out at Erin’s house with her older sister giving you both IV fluids to help recover.

“What’s this?” You asked as you smelled it. It wasn’t a strong scent that would knock you off your feet and it gave you the vibe of it possibly being fruity.

“Your drink that I got you.” Joe said as he took a sip of whatever was in his cup.

“I was always told not to accept drinks from strangers or accept a drink that I didn’t go and get myself.” You told him as you looked back up at him.

“Well, it’s a good thing that I’m not a stranger right? And you honestly think that anyone would be stupid enough to try something with your brother standing right there?” He asked you as you gave him a look of approval.

“I guess you’re right, now what is it?”

“Just taste it, but if it will make you feel better, you can taste mine first. I promise that it’s the exact same thing.”

Without a second thought, you grabbed Joe’s cup and took a small sip. Just as you suspected, it was fruity and had a light taste that wasn’t overwhelming.

Seeing that you approved, he handed your cup to you and as you took another small sip, as promised it was the exact same thing.

“Good choice, Burrow.”

“I figured that you would like it and didn’t want any of the harder options that they have over there.”

“Y/N, you playing?” Justin asked and you gave him a small smile.

“Sure, but only if Joe plays against me.” You answered as you poked Joe’s side making him smirk.

“And here her competitive ass goes. We about to be over here for the rest of the night.” Ja’Marr muttered as he got some chips out of a large bowl and threw them into his mouth.

“I can take her, let’s get to it princess.”

“Famous last words, Burrow.”

After many rounds of beer pong later and mingling with other people, you were making your rounds with a few familiar faces in the living room, when you had suddenly spotted no one other than your boyfriend who looked to be drunk off his ass coming through the front door and sighed.

“Shit.” You quietly said and tried to look for an exit, but came up short. Before you could even make your way into the kitchen, he had spotted you and was moving towards the direction that you were in.

“So, you can’t answer my calls, but come to a party instead?” He asked as he towered over you.

“You pissed me off and I didn’t want to talk to you, simple. So yes, I can dodge your calls whenever I fucking feel like it and come to a party instead. Move out of my way because I still don’t want to talk to you.” You replied and attempted to move around him, but instead he caught your arm and pulled you back.

“I’m not finished fucking talking to you and the last thing you’re about to do is walk away from me.”

“I can and I will and you need to get your fucking hands off me before I get my brother who will beat your ass. I still don’t want to talk to you so move along. You’re clearly drunk and we will have this conversation when you’re sober.”

One thing that you were not going to do was let him intimidate you. You might be small, but you still stood your ground and let him know that you would be tolerating any form of disrespect coming from him or anyone else.

“Who the hell are you talking to like that?” He asked as his grip on your wrist tightened at the same time you were trying to get away from him.

You were trying to look around for Ja’Marr, Justin, or Joe but was coming up short until you heard Joe’s voice from behind Trevor.

“Is there a problem over here? Y/N, you okay?” He asked as he stood on the side of both of you and looked Trevor up and down.

“We’re fine, mind your own damn business. This is between me and my girlfriend.”

“I believe that I was talking to her and not to you. I don’t give a damn if you’re her boyfriend or not. What you aren’t going to do is disrespect her in front of me. You can first start by getting your hand off of her damn wrist because you’re hurting her and it’s turning red.”

“Who the fuck is this guy? Y/N, you fucking him instead of me?” He asked the first question to no one in particular, but the second one was obviously directed at you.

“Trevor, quit it. Just leave. I already said that I wasn’t going to talk to you.”

“Nah, because he thinks he can come over here and get in my business when it has nothing to do with him.” He told you as he turned to keep his eyes on Joe.

Suddenly the room had gone quiet and all eyes were on the three of you as he began to raise his voice.

“Just leave and we’ll talk later.” You told him as you wanted for this night to be over since your mood was now ruined.

You knew that you should have stayed home.

“Not until pretty boy hear learns a fucking lesson.”

Next thing you knew, Trevor shoved Joe who barely moved one inch and you went to stand in between them.

You saw Joe’s jaw clench and knew for a fact that this was going to end badly unless you did something and did something now.

“Joey, no. And Trevor do not fucking put your hands on him.”

“So, you’re defending him instead of me?”

“Yes, because you are being a straight up asshole. Why the hell are you pushing people?”

The next thing you knew it seemed like everything was happening in slow motion, Trevor raised his fist and got ready to punch Joe who dodged it, but Joe made sure to push you out of the way first so that you didn’t get hit. Ja’Marr and Justin came running over to where all of you were standing and caught Joe’s fist as it was about to connect to Trevor’s jaw.

“Joe, chill. It’s not worth it as much as I want to let you go and beat his ass.” Ja’Marr told him as he was holding Joe and Justin was holding back Trevor.

“Y/N, go and get in my car.” Trevor said and you looked at him like he was crazy.

“I think the fuck not. My sister is not going anywhere with you. What you can do is take your ass on out that front door before I let him go and all three of us are kicking your ass, your choice.” Ja’Marr told him as Joe was still struggling to get out of his grasp making him have to hold tighter.

Trevor then held his hands up in defense and began to slowly walk away towards the front door finally giving up on the thought that you were going to leave with him. Once he was finally out the door, Ja’Marr released his hold on Joe and turned to look at you.

“Pebbles, I wish you would fucking break up with him. Do you not see what the fuck he just did? What if we hadn’t been here, huh?! Do you know what could have happened?!” Ja’Marr started but Joe quickly intervened when he saw tears forming in your eyes.

“Not now man, important thing is that she’s okay. You are okay aren’t you? Let me see your wrist.”

You held out your right arm so Joe could look at it and there was a red indentation from where his hand had been.

“Come on, let’s get you some ice from the freezer.”

As you nodded your head, Joe guided you into the kitchen and you were caught off guard as he placed you onto the counter as he rummaged through the freezer and got a small ziploc bag to put the ice in. When he was finished, he walked back over to you and stood in between your legs as he placed the ice on your wrist which led to you letting a hiss escape from your lips.

“Seriously, princess. Are you okay?” Joe softly asked you and you nodded your head.

“I just… I’ve never seen him get like that before and I was scared. He has never put his hands on me or yelled at me like that.”

“I’m just glad we were all here with you.”

“Me too.” You quietly said as Joe brushed a piece of hair out of your face and smiled at you.

It was quiet for a few minutes as Joe tended to your wrist before he looked back up at you.

“You ready to leave? I can come with you.”

“Yeah, I think that it’s probably best at this point.”

Ja’Marr came into the kitchen and made his way over to you as he gave you a hug from the side since Joe was in front of you and kissed the top of your head.

“I yell because I love you and never want anything to happen to you. You’re the only twin I got.” He told you as he pinched your cheek which made you smile.

“I know, I love you too, Bam Bam.”

“I was going to take her home. I’ll text you when she’s safe.” Joe told him, with him nodding in approval.

“Sure thing.”

It had gotten a little colder outside and made sure to walk as fast as possible to your car since the heels you were wearing probably wouldn’t allow you to run. When you were about to get into the driver’s seat, Joe stopped you.

“Let me drive, I know your wrist is still hurting.”

Unlocking your car and not putting up a fight, you walked over to the passenger side and slid in as Joe held the door open for you.

The two of you were now driving through Baton Rouge, as your head laid against the glass and Joe noticed the small circles you were massaging onto your wrist.

“Make sure you take some motrin or something to help your wrist. You don’t have practice tomorrow do you?”

“No, but we have it on Tuesday and then a competition on Saturday. I just hope it’s okay by then.”

“It should be. Just keep stretching it and taking something for it. And more ice will help too.”

“I will. Actually can we make a stop really fast?” You asked and of course Joe nodded.

“Of course and besides, it’s your car that I’m driving.” He responded while laughing.

“Good point. Make a left at the next light and then a right.”

Joe followed directions and was now on a dimly lit street.

“Where are we going?”

“When I get sad, I eat ice cream or get a milkshake at this twenty four hour spot I discovered.”

“Not you holding out on me.” Joe teased as you shook your head.

“I would have taken you eventually. But when I’m around you I’m always happy so there was no need for it.” You quietly said as Joe tried to hide the smile that was forming on his face.

“And that’s how it will always be when I’m around you.”

A few minutes later, Joe saw the sign for the ice cream shop that you had pointed out and quickly parallel parked on the street before the two of you got out to head inside. Joe once again opened the door for you and helped you up the steps to the entrance.

Looking at you now scanning the menu, Joe couldn’t help himself but to take in your appearance for the night. The black dress you were wearing was hugging your curves just right and the shoes you had on was a perfect compliment to it. He was pulled from his thoughts as he heard you call his name.

“Joey, what are you getting?” You asked as you looked over at him.

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Did you decide what you wanted yet? I’ll pay, it’s my treat.”

“Probably an oreo milkshake and you don’t have to pay for it.” You told him as you shook your head.

“Then lets make that two and I’m going to because I said so.”

You knew you smiling at him was more than enough to thank him as he placed both of your orders and paid. The two of you stood to the side and Joe noticed that you were hugging yourself and assumed that you were cold.

Without even asking you, he took off his hoodie and told you to hold your arms up.

“But I don’t want you to be cold.”

“You need it more than I do, arms up.”

You finally gave in and held your arms up as he quickly pulled it over your head and took out your hair from the back and pulled it down in the front.

“Better?”

“Better.”

When Joe had turned away from you to get both of your milkshakes, you took in the scent of his hoodie and it happened to be one of your favorite scents that he would wear. You put it in the back of your mind that you were not giving him this hoodie back any time soon.

He handed you your drink and he walked in front of you in order to be able to open the door and help you down the steps. As the two of you got settled in your car and he started to drive when he broke the silence.

“Y/N…”

“Hmm?” You asked as you were sipping on your milkshake.

“I’m saying this as someone who cares about you so please don’t take any of this the wrong way.”

“I know what you’re about to say, just like everyone else. I need to break up with him.”

“Then why don’t you do it? I mean I’m to the point where I wouldn’t want you to be alone with him because of what I saw tonight.”

“In some weird twisted way I do love him and he means well. He was not like that when we first got together and I honestly think that he’s going through something and he either doesn’t want to tell me or…”

“Y/N, stop making excuses for him. Even if he is going through something he has no reason to act like that towards you, drunk or not. What would have happened if the two of you were by yourselves?”

“I….”

“I just want to be sure you’re safe. At the end of the day, I’m not telling you what to do because you’re an adult but…. Take it how you want it.” Joe said, being completely honest as he turned into your apartment complex parking lot.

When you were quiet, he spoke up again.

“I would want nothing more for someone else to be able to show you how you should be treated.”

“Joey…”

“Y/N, I know you like me, and I like you. I’ve made that obvious time and time again. You literally spend more time with me than your actual boyfriend, and you even just told me yourself less than thirty minutes ago how happy you always are around me. Why don’t you just let me in? What are you afraid of?”

[hrefna-the-raven]

Promise

Horror masterlist - Masterlist - Misc. masterlist

RZ Michael Myers x female nurse reader

Words: 1296

Warnings: strangely none (considering that it's a Myers oneshot^^)

Notes: this has been sitting in my drafts for 3 months now and I still feel weird for posting it, I personnally don't like this oneshot but maybe someone out there might enjoy it, so here you go 😊

Summary: you seem to be the only person who's able to communicate with Michael

Reader: short female reader in mind, but no specific descriptions are used

"These eyes will deceive you. They will destroy you. They will take from you your innocence, your pride, and eventually your soul. These eyes do not see what you and I see. Behind these eyes one finds only blackness, the absence of light."

Those were Doctor Loomis' words about the most feared patient within Smith's Grove Sanitarium and everyone agreed...everyone except you. That's why you found yourself in the middle of the observation room, with Michael towering over you. You were waiting for the doctor to arrive, alone except for the guards outside who kept a vigilant watch on the two of you through the door's window. You should have been afraid of him but you weren't as you were probably the only human being within these walls who saw something else within Michael's eyes, a bittersweet sadness you were all too familiar with. You gestured for him to sit down, he hesitated for a moment before complying. Even while sitting, he still loomed over you, so you approached him cautiously, careful not to make any sudden movements.

"May I touch it?", you asked in a soft voice, settling yourself in front of him while pointing at his mask, "I promise I won't remove it. It's just...beautiful...and I'd like to get a closer look."

His icy blue eyes gazed at you, displaying a faint hint of contemplation, yet without uttering a single word or making any movement. You waited patiently, but since there was no response after a minute, you made the decision to proceed. Your delicate fingers grazed over the papier-mâché mask, brushing away a few strands of his long blond hair and delicately tucking them behind his ear. His breath hitched the moment you briefly touched his skin and a grin spread across your lips. Your hand now found his head, patting it sweetly while humming a happy melody. His breaths grew heavier and his head tilted, leaning in against your touch. Your gaze shifted from his disheveled hair to his eyes, and you found yourself getting lost in the dilated pupils that slowly engulfed the blue around them. Beneath the darkness of murder and madness, there still existed a little boy who longed for love, family, or even just a simple human connection.

"Nurse!"

The metallic clanking of the opening door and Loomis' voice startled you and your hand instinctively retreated as your eyes wandered to the doctor.

"You're needed elsewhere, I'll take it from here", he said softly yet assertively, taking a seat in front of Michael.

As you tried to turn around, you sensed a firm grasp on your wrist. Michael's fingers were wrapped around it tightly, keeping you in place as his pleading eyes found yours. Despite the intensity of his grip and the fact that he had already taken the life of a nurse, you felt an overwhelming sense of tranquility. Leaning closer to him, you gently attempted to pry his fingers away from your wrist.

"I'll be back as soon as I can", you whispered, a smile gracing your lips, "I'll drop by your room if it's too late, I promise."

Finally, he released his hold on you, and for a fleeting moment, a glimmer of hope flickered in his eyes, his hand rising slowly to wave at you. It didn't feel right to leave, but there was no other choice. As the door closed behind you, you stole one last glance through the window, your heart heavy at the sight of Michael's lingering gaze while Loomis scribbled something down in his notebook almost frantically.

It was finally the end of your shift but as you changed out of your uniform, your thoughts drifted back to Michael, the commitment you had made hanging over you like a menacing shadow. Hanging the uniform in your locker, you made your way through the hallways.

"Aren't you supposed to be home by now?", Cruz asked, mopping the floor around Michael's room.

"Yes but I made a promise", you replied, offering him a polite smile as you paused at the door, gently knocking and waiting.

Despite not being alone, the hallway felt eerie. The dirty white walls seemed to stretch out into an infinite torment as your gaze wandered down to the floor, all the way to the end. A sudden thud at the door made you jump, eyes darting towards the barred window where you discovered Michael peering back at you through his mask. As your heartbeat calmed down a bit, the corners of your mouth turned into a gentle smile and you placed a hand on the side of the window.

"See? I promised you I'd be back."

Cruz chuckled and stepped up beside you, slowly unlocking the door.

"Be careful", he whispered, twisting the key in the lock, "he's dangerous but I still believe it would be more personal and easier to greet him without the barrier of a solid metal door. Saw you two this afternoon, I believe it'll do Mikey some good, if you're good to him, he's good to you...in his own way."

With an encouraging smile, he pushed open the door and stepped aside. Michael remained motionless, his eyes fixed on your form as you cautiously entered his room. A gasp escaped your lips when you beheld the walls adorned with the many masks he had crafted over the past fifteen years. It felt surreal, like you'd just fell into another, darker, realm of mysteries and twisted wonders. Tentatively, you took a few steps closer, running your fingers along one of the masks hanging just above his desk. It stood inbetween all the colours as jt was painted all in white with cut-out eyes and a subtle dark gray line at the bottom resembling lips while the top was made of different black papier-mâché strands which gave the face less of a creepy and more of that weird out-of-bed hair look, eliciting a small giggle from you. Before you could react, a hand reached over your shoulder, plucking the mask from the wall and presenting it to you. You took it, careful to not damage it and turned around, your fingers nervously toyed with the loose coloured paper strands.

"For me?", you asked almost in a whisper.

Michael simply nodded and walked back to his bed, sitting down on the edge. You weren't sure if you should say or do anything else. The bond that was forming between the two of you was unusual and extraordinary. The silent killer and his nurse, an unexpected connection that blossomed like a foreign flower in the midst of a desert. 

"I...uh...need to get home now but I'll see you tomorrow", you offered him a smile, "and thanks for this. I love it and it'll get a special place at home."

You held up the mask before turning away, walking past Cruz who locked the door once again.

"I don't understand what it is with you but Mikey likes you, usually no one is allowed to touch anything in that room, not even me."

"Well maybe it's because I see a bit more in him than just the mindless killer everyone else believes him to be", you shrugged your shoulders, heading down the hallway with Cruz following behind you.

You felt his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to stop just as you were about to pass the last door of this floor.

"Whatever you see in him, don't forget what he has done", Cruz urged, "for your own sake."

The warden's words carried a subtle acknowledgement of the harsh reality, yet they were delivered with a touch of kindness. He seemed to be the only other person, apart from you, in this place who believed that there was more to Michael than just brutality and an unnerving silence.

Part 2 - Mask

[pomefioredove]

I— 'Don't bite your lip, I want to do that' with Jamil possibly? 🥺 I swear that would straight up kill me (in a good way)

I hope you have a good day!

oooh... this one is interesting

summary: "Don't bite your lip, I want to do that" type of post: short fic characters: jamil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, BRIEF mention of blood, a little kissing, fluffy, not proofread aaand maybe a little ooc

You are the personification of bad habits.

At first, Jamil avoided you; he thought he had done enough babysitting, and the last thing he needed was to worry himself over your love of biting your nails.

...And then, of course, he caved.

He couldn't just avoid you forever, and if he was going to be your friend anyway, he might as well have tried.

So, Jamil has learned a lot about you in these past few months.

For one, when you're nervous, no amount of verbal reminders will prevent you from fidgeting.

And, for another, you responded shockingly well to physical touch.

It became a habit of his. Away from prying eyes, he'd hold your hands to prevent you from picking your cuticles and tuck your hair behind your ears so you wouldn't chew on it.

He fussed over you in ways not even he understood, but that didn't matter.

He liked the feeling that came with being the leader between the two of you.

There was just one thing he couldn't seem to fix.

"Stop that," Jamil says, running his thumb over your lower lip. He sighs, seeing the blood beading from where you'd bitten.

He takes up a handkerchief, dabbing at your lip.

"There are better ways to deal with your anxiety than taking it out on yourself," he mutters. He would know.

"Sorry,"

"It's not worth apologizing over," Jamil says. "Don't let your thoughts get the best of you. They're supposed to serve you, not..."

He pauses, withdrawing the handkerchief.

"I just wish you'd stop doing that,"

"I can't help it," you say.

He knows that already, he thinks. That's why he's trying to help.

He frowns. Being so worried over someone he has no obligation to worry over is a new feeling, but not an unwelcome one.

It's just... difficult.

"You're too thoughtful for your own good, sometimes," but it's not like he's complaining. It's a welcome break from the thoughtlessness he deals with elsewhere.

Jamil knows it's your first instinct to bite and pick and peel; he's also confident he'll find a way to train you out of it.

Maybe...

No. What a stupid thought. Holding hands is one thing, occupying your lips to dissuade you is another.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask.

Ugh. "Nothing. A solution,"

"I want to hear it," you seem quite adamant. He sighs.

"I thought that if occupying your hands has worked for in the past, that the same might be true of your lips... but that's clearly not as easy,"

You're quiet. Probably thinking, and then overthinking.

"Well... why not? Why not kiss me, I mean?"

Jamil almost drops the handkerchief. Maybe you weren't overthinking this time, after all.

"...Because this is not some silly movie where I say something like... "don't bite your lip, I want to do that", or something equally embarrassing,"

You seem to hold back a giggle, much to his chagrin. "Maybe you should. Maybe it would work,"

"...You're not serious,"

You nod. Sevens, you are turning out to be a handful today. Much more so than usual.

Still...

He sighs. "Fine, but only because you insist,"

A long silence follows. Jamil studies your expression, almost looking for a hint of deceit, but... it's just you.

Genuinely caring about others is such a headache.

He hesitates, and then leans in, pressing a short but sweet kiss to your mouth. It tastes like blood. Not that he minds.

Keeping a cool facade after that is harder than he expected, and it takes him a minute to pull himself together.

At least you look happy with yourself.

Despite his internal embarrassment, he can't help but smile at the thought.

"Distracting enough?"

You're quiet, lost in thought... and then you nod. "I would say so. I guess your theory was right all along,"

Jamil feels a little swell of pride, both at the praise and at the soft look on your face.

"Hm. They often are,"

[luneariaa]

ᯓ★٠ ࣪⭑ UNSPOKEN. ✧ KENJI S. { 𝐈 }.

✰ — PART 1 ; mentions of kenji having some deep; untold sadness, emi mention, the reader being the sunshine friend to kenji + having close relationship.

✰ — probably will have more two - three parts of the story! tried to fit in one part, but it doesn't work somehow ( ╥ω╥ ) to those who wanted to be tagged in the next future parts, feel free to comment or send me an ask <33 !! ✩₊˚. PART 2.

. dividers by @/strangergraphics ⛓ !!

GROWING UP, for almost his entire life, KENJI— regardless of the increase of popularity and fame, doesn't really have that much of friends. Does he even have them at this point? He doesn't really have anyone that he could actually rely on; even trusted fully.

Despite everything from the outside of one's possible perspective, he's still the lonely, sweet boy deep down. None has ever truly cracked his persona down and managed to bring out his true self, which a part of him is glad for some reason— but the other, not so much.

The attention that he has received all over the world doesn't really mean anything, not what he silently craved and secretly desperate for.

Companionship, someone who actually cares about his wellbeing as a whole despite his ongoing status.

Yes, of course, he loves the fact that he's able to accomplish something that's quite significant to him, at least— getting all of the attention that they think he truly deserved, but there will always be this one void within his heart; as if begging to be fixed with something that even he himself wasn't so sure about it.

His mansion may have everything that he ever needed, but it still feels bleak, somehow, no matter what he's trying to do. What's the point of having large spaces, when in the end, the mere silence will be his only company?

Kenji doesn't even realize it, but sometimes, he ended up just staring blankly at the empty gaps of his surroundings; feeling lost at the said moment.

His world has been nothing but simply revolving around his stardom life as much as the realization hits him; an endless, monochromatic-colored world that he tacitly faced alone with some fair, or unfair number of struggles.

"Must be a tough day today, yeah Ken?"

"You should take some more needed breaks, at least!" He swiftly got pulled out of his train of thoughts, eyes immediately glancing to the source of sound. This is his reality now, not the one that he keeps on unconsciously reminiscing of.

"Pushing yourself too hard wouldn't be too good for your health, y'know." A euphonious voice scolded him lightly, accompanied with a bright, albeit concerned grin.

Kenji now took notice of you standing by the doorway; your smile remained despite the visible apprehensive look that was directed towards him. Completely aware of the mere truth behind your words alone, he averts his gaze back elsewhere— cracking a small, yet almost forceful of a smile as if he's trying to ease down your concerns.

"Yeah, you got a point. It's just the usual, I guess," he scratches the back of his head while lazily slouching on the bed. "It's not me if I don't mope over some pointless stuff."

"Well, it's not that pointless if it bothers you." You exhale out, gradually pulling him out of the bed.

"Maybe we can try something for the day— maybe you wanted to play baseball for a bit? I'll watch 'cuz you know I suck at those."

He couldn't hold back the snort from escaping, which earned a disapproving pout from you, but nonetheless, you added further.

"Or we could just play around with baby Emi as always! Or both, I don't know.."

"Perhaps that could at least ease your mind for a bit..?"

He could clearly sense your efforts; chuckling as he knows that he doesn't have any other plausible choices, but to simply follow your lead without any complaints. When it comes to you, Kenji knew it would always be futile to try anything quite the contrary from it.

"That sounds nice, actually." A genuine smile, despite the hints of his exhaustion, tugged at the corner of his lips. Has he even noticed it himself on how easy it is for you to coax him out of his shell? "Playing with Emi sounds amazing."

Kenji admitted along with a smirk being present by now, replacing his previous smile while doing some mini stretches here and there.

"I know!" You merely giggled over his words, "Besides, I just know that the baby already misses you. I fed her earlier too, in case you're wondering!" His pretty, midnight-colored eyes seemed to brighten up after you finished speaking for a bit.

"At this rate, I think you're spoiling her a bit too much," he castigated facetiously, earning an eyeroll from you when one of his hands ended up atop of your head— giving it a playful ruffle.

"Well, what can I say.."

"She's just a cute, big baby."

His genuine smile returned in mere seconds, finding the whole idea to be quite endearing; causing for him to feel the warmth that's starting to blossom within his chest. He's totally aware of his whole responsibility at this point— unintentionally, yet welcoming the idea of becoming a father to the baby kaiju, now willingly to take care of her because she's one of the reasons that actually changed him for the better.

Throughout the whole conversation that the two of you have shared with one another, it seemed as if the burdens on his shoulders has been lifted away; the atmosphere becoming more comfortably lighter than before without you even realizing it yourself.

Kenji doesn't even know how, but your sole presence has something in particular that keeps him grounded, and he values you deeply for that.

Even with such mystery that's been shrouding around you, it never really bothered him that much; respecting your boundaries and taking an immediate notice on how you seemed to be uncomfortable with talking about your own past and parents, in a way. He assumed that something might have happened before, hence the vague details you kept telling him— no irritation present ever.

Maybe someday, you'll have the courage to tell him. But for now, you would rather keep it a secret.

@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are welcomed. all rights reserved.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Lonely Nights

Two uploads in one day? I'm cooking. Also inspired by @/shurisneakers grumpy x grumpy works, go check her works out they're amazing

Summary: Attending a party with the man whose whole goal in life seems to be annoying you to no end goes...not exactly as planned

You've lost count of the number of parties Natasha has dragged you to attend. You're pretty sure this is at least the tenth one in the past month, which is ten times more than the number of parties you usually attend. Then again zero times ten is still zero so you're not sure how the math adds up.

Grabbing another glass of whiskey, you stare at the golden liquid swirling around, trying to drown out the noise in the background. Parties really are far too loud for your taste, the only good thing to come out of them is the free flow alcohol that you constantly take advantage of. The drinks taste even better knowing that the tab is on a certain genius playboy billionaire and so at every party you lurk at the bar, inhaling drinks until you get hungover.

Tonight, there's a newcomer — Bucky Barnes, also known as the Winter Soldier. Turns out he's Steve's best friend who was thought dead and you have to admit, the brunette is quite the handsome man, although you'd rather die than admit it out loud. He's currently following Sam who seems to be on a mission to talk to a girl for more than a minute, and from the look on his face, quite enjoying the other's multiple failures.

You take another mouth of whiskey and look away, relishing in the way the liquid burns on the way down. Natasha has disappeared, probably to outdrink yet another poor soul, leaving you all alone at the bar counter, not that you mind. You quite like the personal space and lack of need to socialise with another human being, two things that are currently being challenged by a certain brunette you were watching not too long ago.

"Go away."

"I see you've been learning some manners." He leans over to take a glass of whiskey for himself, downing half of it in one go.

"And I see you haven't." You glare at him.

"Maybe you should introduce me to your teacher, I might just learn some manners then." He simply smiles at you.

"Hmph." You turn back to your glass. "So what are you doing here?"

"Was invited to the party by Tony." He swirls his glass before downing the remaining half. "Same as you."

"I can tell. Why are you sitting right next to me after I told you to get lost?"

"I believe you said 'go away', not 'get lost'."

"Same thing." You pinch the bridge of your nose. He was getting on your nerves as always, you sometimes swore he saved all his cheek for you and you alone.

"Nope it isn't. One is asking me to simply leave, the other is asking me to lose all sense of direction —"

"Okay Mr Dictionary, didn't ask you for the difference between 'away' and 'lost'. Why are you still seated next to me?" You grab another glass from a passing waiter and immediately inhale one third of it.

"I'm tired and want to sit down." Bucky shrugs.

"There's plenty of other seats out there." You gesture to where the crowd is.

"Here seemed the most comfy, although the company it offers could use some work." He smirks, biting back an amused huff when you roll your eyes.

"Then go and find company elsewhere."

"But you'll be lonely. As a gentleman, I cannot stand by and let a lovely person such as yourself spend the night alone." He dramatically places a hand over his heart.

"Since when were you a gentleman?" You snort, knocking back more alcohol. You were going to need more if this bastard insisted on spending the rest of the night with you.

"Since the moment I saw you sitting here alone."

"How chivalrous. You want a lordship or something?"

He laughs, reaching over the counter and pulling out a bottle of vodka. "If only you could grant me one."

"Dunno. Could try pulling some strings or something, haven't tried granting anyone a lordship before. First time for everything, am I right?" You toss a bottle opener his way and he catches it, raising an eyebrow.

"Do you have this on you at all times?"

"Swiped it from the waiter just now. Was going to open one myself but since you've already taken one you might as well share. Sharing is caring, right?" You wave a hand.

"Then sharing this bottle would imply I care for you." He pops the cap open and starts chugging.

"Hey! I provided the bottle opener! I deserve some!" You yelp, rising from your seat. He easily dodges your attempts to grab the bottle from him and grins, waving it just out of your reach. Growling, you leap onto the counter and dash along it, successfully swiping the bottle from his surprisingly loose grip. Hopping back down, you gleefully wave the bottle before chugging the remaining liquid inside, letting out a satisfied sigh when not a drop is left.

"I win!" You cheer, laughing. All that alcohol is making you giddy and you lean a little too far backwards, stumbling towards the counter but before you can hit anything, a pair of arms wrap themselves around you, stopping your fall.

"Can't have you dying before granting me that lordship." Bucky grunts, placing you back onto your seat. You try to shove his arms off, making a face when he refuses to let go before resuming your scowl and crossing your arms.

"I'm not dying before you," you huff, annoyed. More importantly, you weren't about to die from a fall when you've survived aliens, gods, superhumans and everything in between.

"Congratulations on surviving purely out of spite all this while. Would you also like a gold medal?" Sarcasm drips heavily from his words.

"I'll take one." You don't miss a beat, even when tipsy. Bucky would admire that, really he would, unfortunately he's on the receiving end of your sass so it's already less admirable because of that. At least him being here means you won't be meeting your end via counters, he would miss all that wit and sarcasm if that were to happen. After laughing at your cause of death.

"Unfortunately I don't have one right now. Mind waiting for a bit, doll?" His lips quirk upwards ever so slightly.

"A gentleman making someone wait? What kind of gentleman are you?" You lift another snagged bottle to your lips, taking a swig.

"One that knows you're caring enough to share that bottle with me." He easily wrestles the half-drunk bottle from you, chugging the rest while keeping you at arms length with his forearm pressed against your chest. "Thank you for your generosity."

"You're not welcome!" You huff, futilely hitting his arm in an attempt to close the gap. He grins, turning the bottle upside down to show you there's not a drop left.

"Asshole." You scowl, gripping his arm tightly.

"My pleasure." His smirk is infuriating and with the alcohol clouding your mind, the moment he drops his arm you close the distance, wiping the smirk off his face with a kiss. Your lips connect and his eyes widen, but he kisses back, his metal arm snaking around your waist while his flesh one pulls you closer so that he can devour you.

Bucky's lips taste of vodka, whiskey and whatever else he drank before being your nuisance and it tastes good. You breathlessly pull away, cheeks flushed and grab a breath before diving back for another round.

"You're a pathetic kisser," you gasp after pulling away for air again.

"And still you want more." He licks his lips, ice blue eyes shining with mirth. "What does that say about you?"

"That I'm going to need to teach you how to kiss."

"Then teach me." He lifts your chin up. "The night's still young."

"Step one: shut up." Your lips crash into his again and he shuts up, savouring the kiss.

"Step two: don't stop." He murmurs, threading his fingers through your hair.

"Step three: eyes on me, only me." You press your forehead against his, feeling his warmth. "Took you forever to kiss me."

"You're the one who took forever, I was always open to it."

"Asshole."

"Idiot."

"You just asked an idiot to be your teacher."

"I don't mind this idiot being my teacher." His thumb runs over your bottom lip. "After all, this idiot is my idiot."

"Hate you."

"Love you too."

[judesmoonbeauty]

Miss Fairytale Keeper, Come Have Fun With Us: Jude Jazza END

Translations will not include screenshots or CGs as mentioned here. Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. Thank you, for you support! ☾.

When I reached out, it was Jude’s hand I took.

Jude: If ya let go of me, I won’t letcha off.

Kate: Okay!

He makes me stand up, and kicks away all those attacking me, one after the other.

Jude: Tch, what kind of management do they have to be so hated like this?

Kate: Should YOU be the one to say that about other people?!

Jude: Don’t say unnecessary things!

The ones who attacked me were thin, and looked very poor.

They’re people who’ve lost something very important to them through gambling.

Even if I do sympathize with them a little, it’s never an excuse to draw deadly weapons.

Jude: Run!

Punching and kicking, he defeats his enemies one after the other, pulling me along strongly, and as we head for the door, we dodge bullets in the thick black smoke.

As we left the casino, explosions sounded behind us.

We kept running until we reached a nearby port.

Jude: I’m havin’ a real shitty day.

Kate: Is it okay now?

Our fastened hands were easily released, and the warmth of my right hand cooled quickly.

Feeling a bit lonely, I opened my mouth to gloss it over.

Kate: In the end, we didn’t collect any evidence.

Jude: There’s evidence.

Kate: What?

I’m not sure where he got it from, but holding a thick ledger in his hands, he handed it to me.

When I looked inside, I saw things other than money that had been wagered in the casino so far, and a list of customers who received them alongside Viscount Smith’s signature.

Kate: When did you get this?!

Jude: Took it from that damned Viscount when the explosion happened.

(I couldn’t see because of the smoke, but I guess that’s what happened.)

Based on the overwhelming evidence, the casino will be brought to justice before her Majesty the Queen.

Just as I was feeling relieved over completing the mission, I suddenly remembered something.

Kate: If I had known that I was being used for collateral, I would’ve bet….

(I knew that Jude would win…..)

Then he made a disgusted expression…..

Jude: Our princess doesn’t seemta understand why she was prohibited.

As we stood facing each other, the sea breeze blew through his hair.

Jude: Ain’t no way someone who shows their emotions so easily could win.

Jude: Imagine how much a young woman without much money would hafta pay if she lost?

(Ah…..)

I recall the words of Viscount Smith and realize.

(Selling my body, experiencing atrocious things, the worst case scenario….)

A chill ran down my spine as I realized how naive I’d been.

The client list had records of women and children being sold, and I finally understood those repeated words had been for my sake.

(Jude said that he’d protect me.)

Feeling mixed emotions of his kindness and my own naivete, i bit my lip and looked down, but when his shoes came into view, I looked up.

Jude: Really, cantcha say thanks to the person who saved ya?

Kate: …! Thank you.

When I expressed my gratitude to him, who is foul-mouthed but kind,

Jude: Seems like Crown’s Fairytale Keeper has grown attached to the admirable Vogel.

Jude: Kissin’ the winner. I think ya wanted that bad personality.

Kate: That’s something Nica said on his own,

Jude: Such good friends that yer on a first name basis. (Jude’s angy face.)

His raised voice and pouty expression, seemed to indicate he was in a bad mood.

Jude: I mean, is the princess even bold ‘nuff to kiss a man herself.

Upset with his making fun of me, I confronted him.

Kate: It’s just a kiss, I can do it.

Jude: If so, then I’ll betcha won’t.

Kate: If I can kiss you?

Jude: I’ll do anythin’ ya say. Probably impossible anyway.

He’s so confident I can’t do it despite my enthusiasm.

We faced and stared at each other for a while,

(Where should I kiss him……) T-T on the lips.

I looked at his lips, but didn’t have the courage, so I felt conflicted,

Jude: ….Ridiculous. (I’m with him on this one.)

He turned on heel and walked away.

Kate: W-wait a minute!

I quickly grabbed his arm and stood on my tip toes as he looked back at me,

Jude: Huh?

I kissed his forehead.

Kate: ….I kissed you.

Kate: Now, please listen to what I have to say.

He put his hand to his forehead, his eyes slightly open,

Kate: I’m Crown’s Fairytale Keeper, not Vogel’s Fairytale Keeper!

Starting to feel embarrassed, I ran past him.

Kate: That’s why I’m going home!

A few seconds later, with the sound of him turning around, only one word was heard.

Jude: Kid.

(He’s making fun of me again…..!)

When I turned to say something back, I saw the softest expression on his face.

Kate: Huh……

It was as warm as sunlight, and it was the first time I’d seen it.

It felt like time had stopped for a moment,

Jude: What kinda dumb look are ya makin’?

His grumpy face returned immediately.

Jude: Hurry ‘n go home.

He started walking and I followed him quickly.

Kate: Please wait!

Perhaps the reason why I didn’t stand next to the swinging jacket that was a step ahead of me, was because the excitement I felt still hadn’t gone away.

[Master List] [Jude Epilogue]

Heh, jelly Jude. Pouty Jude. More of that please.

Dividers: @.adornedwithlight

Tags List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @letter-from-afar @nateko @cosmowgyrall. @lunaaka

[thomaslittlegirl]

help. — thomas shelby

you have your first period and you need some help, so you look for your uncle.

warnings; suggestive. incest but not really. age-gap. reader is legal age!!

𐙚

small heath is covered in a dark fog and you rush to get inside as soon as possible. you know that your family doesn't like you walking around the city alone without any peaky man to protect you, or to make sure that no one wants to be smart with you.

the guys at the door quickly recognize you and let you pass. you're looking for a specific person: thomas.

a problem has arisen and you don't quite know how to address it. the only person you trust enough to ask for help is your uncle, the leader of the peaky blinders.

you take a few breaths and prepare yourself for what's coming, gently knocking your knuckles on the wooden door. "uncle?" you call, quietly but loud enough for him to hear you.

"come in, sweetheart."

when you walk into your uncle's office you almost wrinkle your nose when you see so much smoke. it seems as if the man had smoked all the cigarettes in the city in his space.

“what’s wrong, y/n?”

you take a breath and look at him, nervous. "i need your help... i need you to look at something for me."

shelby frowns and motions with his hand for you to come closer to him. the man leaves his cigarette in the ashtray and looks at you. you feel a little embarrassed walking near him. you feel sorry for what you're about to do, but you don't trust anyone enough to seek help elsewhere.

you carefully lift your dress to the height of your thighs, showing it to your uncle.

"what the hell happened to you?" he asks, now leaning close to your body. drops of blood drip down your crotch and dirty your legs.

"i don't know." you answer honestly, and a bit of fear in your voice. "am i sick, uncle?"

thomas looks into your eyes and then at the blood that trickles from you. "someone did something to you that you didn't want?" he asks, his jaw tense.

it seemed like his eyes shot up with anger in a second at the mere idea that someone had hurt you.

you shake your head.

"did you fuck anyone?" he asks again. the naturalness in which his questioning comes out makes you feel even more embarrassed. thomas talks to you as an equal, as if you were one of his brothers.

"no!" you respond quickly, shaking your head several times. "no, never."

your uncle directs one of his hands to your thigh, squeezing it briefly. he seems thoughtful. his silence makes you think the worst. "should we go see a doctor?" you ask, scared.

thomas smiles sideways, shaking his head. his large hand on one of your legs trying to give you comfort. "no, angel. "

"so...?"

"it looks like your first period has arrived.” he informs you, looking into your eyes. "congratulations, sweetheart. you are officially a real woman."

you look at him, swallowing. you feel ashamed for having overreacted in this way, for showing yourself so vulnerable in front of the head of the family for something so stupid.

“oh…” you just say.

thomas hides a chuckle trying not to embarrass you. he finds it cute the way you sought his help... he finds it sweet that he is the first person to whom you tell something as important as this is for a woman.

"what am i supposed to do now?" you question. your uncle stands from the comfortable leather chair and gives you a squeeze on the shoulder.

"wait here."

shelby gets lost in the hallways of his office and you just stand there, feeling the blood fall and watching how it stains the neat floor of his office.

thomas returns a few minutes later, with a tray in his hands. "lean on my desk." he says and you comply. "pull your dress up."

you do what the man asks of you.

"like this?" you ask, stealing a nod from him.

"good girl." he says, sitting back down in his big leather chair. "now open your legs a little for me, angel."

you feel the color rush to your face, probably leaving you red. you open your legs slightly as thomas asks, and you feel a warm, wet cloth slide down your thighs.

the sensation makes your skin crawl and you seek stability holding onto the man's shoulders. your uncle cleans the blood that dripped down your legs with a delicacy that surprises you... a man as hard as thomas shelby was, treating his niece in such a sweet and warm way.

thomas takes another cloth again and moistens it with the jug of warm water again, continuing his job of cleaning you completely; from your ankles to the inside of your thigh.

"lean back a little on the desk and open up more for your uncle, angel."

his words make you feel a little strange but you comply with his request, sitting on his desk and spreading your legs wide for him.

"i'm going to clean your private parts, princess." he informs, and soon you feel his strong hand running the cloth over your pussy.

you feel ashamed, vulnerable. small as if you were a tiny ant in front of a big lion.

thomas finishes cleaning you, but you still feel wet... your insides feel wet and hot, but you decide not to tell him anything.

the cloths stained with your blood are quickly discarded into a bucket on the side of his desk, getting rid of the evidence as he arranges your underwear in their place.

"done, little princess. your uncle left you all clean."

you nod your head, giving him a small smile. "thank you, uncle tommy."

thomas lowers your dress and covers your legs again. his big bads head towards your legs, caressing them gently.

"i'll tell polly to talk to you and explain how you should handle this situation on your own."

you nod. "it's okay... thank you for your help."

thomas smiles at you, now giving you a squeeze on the waist. his hands go down to your hips and stay there, holding you for him. "is there anything else that hurts you...?" he asks, sweetly. "your stomach, perhaps?"

you shake your head. it's not your stomach that hurts.

"just... my breasts... a little."

thomas licks his lips and you feel his grip on your hip get a little tighter.

"let uncle tommy take care of it, princess."

[just-some-trans-nobody]

December Christmas Monster stories

Day 16.) stalkerish naga neighbor x gn reader.

Gosh sorry everyone it's been too long sense my pause on the December stories I apologize. I'll try posting the rest twice a week to prevent burn out again.

warnings: stalker behavior, pillow sniffing, manipulative behavior, snail tail wrapping around someone, possessiveness

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The whole apartment complex had lost power the other day, a few people left to go stay elsewhere but not everyone had somewhere else they could go. You were one of these people, you didn’t have anywhere else to crash so you stayed. Staying mostly in your room you were constantly bundled up in all the blankets you owned with probably too many candles lit in one room for light and warmth. 

Wearing a couple layers of clothes you were doing your best to stay warm. At least now the power was out and it forced you to read some of the many books you have been ignoring for who knows how long. About half way into the current book you were invested in, the knock at the door causing you to jump, bringing you out of the book with a startle. Putting the bookmark in it you stood up wrapping a blanket around yourself before shuffling to your door. Opening it you took a peek outside before fully opening it when you saw your neighbor. He was a naga and from the looks of it he was in rough shape.

“Toooo cold…. Can I cooommme innn?” He slurred with heavy eyes, hardly even able to keep himself up. “Shit yeah come inside.” You mumbled stepping to the side to let him slither in. He shivered, feeling your apartment wasn’t much warmer than his own. “My room is warmer, come on, it’ll be too hard warming up the living room for you.” You explained leading him to your room. Once he felt it was warmer there he made his way to your bed and flopped his upper half onto his, his snake body wrapping around himself for warmth. He was out like a light, way too exhausted to do anything else. Frowning you stared at him for a moment before using all your blankets to cover him only leaving yourself with the one you had wrapped around your shoulder before you opened the door for him.

Sitting down you shivered as you went back to reading. After a few hours he woke up from his nap and looked around confused feeling a bit fuzzy. Eyes landing on you he smiled softly as he quietly watched you read. His smile turned to a frown seeing you shiver. Looking down at himself he realized he had pretty much all of your blankets and felt bad. “Come here.” He whispered no longer slurring his speech. “It’s cold, we should be sharing heat for safety.” he explained lifting up some of the blankets. Scooting closer to him you leaned against him as he wrapped his snake half around you. You didn’t really know him so this was making you nervous for a number of reasons. He was attractive but pretty much a stranger. You didn't have many interactions with him other than passing each other in the hallways or asking for a missing ingredient for a meal. It was hard to relax wrapped up in his body. The temperature difference was nice. You had been so cold before but it was just so warm cuddled against him. His arms were wrapped around your waist as his chin was rested on your shoulder looking down at the book you were reading. The words were blurry to him; he was more focused on staring at your hands every time you turned the page. He liked the way they moved. The way your hand flexed lightly as you lifted the page, it was entertaining enough for him. 

He gently nuzzled his face against your neck. The few fleeting moments the two of you shared passing each other in the hallway were always the highlights of his day. He loved catching glimpses of his cute neighbor. Always too nervous to say more than a few polite words to you at a time. But when the power went out Thalisz saw his chance to get closer to you. Being here with you was a Christmas miracle to him. He didn’t want this moment to end any time soon but his luck had finally ran out as his stomachs started to rumble from hunger. He had in such a daze due to the cold he hadn’t been able to feed himself, too weak to do such. “Oh? Your hungry? I should still have some food in the pantry. I haven't made the journey outside yet.” You said wiggling out of his grasp much to his dismay. He wanted to follow but your room was oh so warm and smelled so strongly of you. Your kitchen was cold, he didn't want to go there. Instead he slithered further onto your bed and snuggled against your pillow holding it close. The scent was strong there and he liked it. He didn’t want to leave your home any time soon, he felt he belonged here. Making it his new den wouldn’t be an issue for him not at all but he knew he shouldn’t not yet. Can’t just move into a human's home without talking about it first. He hadn’t realized his eyes had closed until he heard you open the door to your room and step in closing the door quickly so as to not let out all the warm air. “I would have made a pb&j but I can’t open the fridge so it’s peanut butter, honey, and banana. Is that alright?” You asked him holding out the sandwiches. “Yess that sounds delicious.” Thalisz said, sitting up, taking the plate from you and began to eat. 

The two of you started to talk, it was much more than the few words the two of you had spoken in the past and Thalisz was living for it. He was clinging to each word you said focusing on the way you said things, how your lips moved, how your eyes crinkled when you laughed. Thalisz wished he could take a photo of each different face you made but settled for just remembering them for now. When you had started getting sleepy Thalisz grew more giddy at the thought of cuddling you while you slept. “It makes sense for us to sleep in the same bed, for warmth after all.” He reasoned and you nodded your head in agreement. Thalisz was too big to fit his whole body on your bed but that didn’t stop him from trying. It was a struggle not to wrap all of his lower half around you in a corkscrew hold but he knew that would be way too frightening for you to hold you like that, he needed to gain more of your trust first, if he pushed your boundaries too hard so soon he might scare you away. As much as he loved the idea of hunting you down he couldn’t bear the image of your terrified face looking at him in horror. Settling for wrapping only his arms around you he was satisfied with that and closed his eyes pretending to fall asleep. Once he knew for certain you were asleep he opened them back up and watched you sleeping soundly in your arms. Oh how it made his heart race seeing you so relaxed and vulnerable in his arms. So trusting of him. He knew you were the perfect mate for him, he just knew it. He didn’t dare move a musical content on just stare at your sleeping form for hours until he had fallen asleep without his permission. Thalisz wanted to stay up longer and keep watching you but the sound of your soft breathing had lulled him into his own deep slumber.

Once he finally woke up his eyes immediately looked to you seeing you still in his arms but awake not idly scrolling through your phone. His heart skipped a beat, he had only dreamed of waking to you being in his arms, was he disappointed you were already up meaning he couldn’t stare at your sleeping form longer? Yes absolutely he wanted to see how you looked waking up but this was better than waking up alone. “Powers back on.” You told him when you finally noticed he was awake. “Would have gotten up and made us something warm to eat but I kinda can’t get up.” You gestured down, making him look down too to see that your legs were completely covered by his lower half. He must have curled up on top of you when he was sleeping trapping you there for who knows how long. Thalisz was half tempted not to get up and keep you there in bed with him all day, maybe even all week. Sighing he said a soft sorry and moved his tail off of you releasing you from his hold. 

Laying in your bed still the words you had greeted him with finally clicked in his tired brain. The power was back on. Eyes widening he scrambled to think of an excuse to why he shouldn’t leave right away. He didn’t want to leave, how could you when you were here and not in his own apartment. This was so unfair, how dare the world give him this and then rip it all away from him too soon. Thalisz felt like crying but he knew he was being a baby, now that he had spent the night that meant he was closer to you, he had reasons to stop by. Maybe bring you things as a thanks for your help, that would give him more chances. He could ask to get coffee with you, that could lead into doing more with you. Thalisz kept thinking about more and more ways he could do to get more time with you, his tail was in the door now he had taken a chance and you hadn’t closed it on him he had hope. “The apartments are still pretty cold, maybe you should stay here a little longer till the building warms back up?” You called from the kitchen. A cheshire grin formed on his lips, it seemed you were opening that door wider for him letting him in. Thalisz was so delighted you felt the same about him, his oh so perfect mate. You loved him too even if you didn’t know it yet. 

[hey-august]

A Favor for the Captain - Chapter 1 | NSFW (Buggy x afab!reader)

Description: You expected to spend night duty alone, but your captain decides to keep you company. Together you enjoy some light hearted conversation and silly jokes, before Buggy asks for an unexpected, but not unwelcome, favor. Word count: Just under 2.5k A/N: This is probably just going to be 2 chapters. I have the next chapter outlined, so hopefully it'll be ready to post soon. Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x afab!reader, no use of Y/N, dry humping, bad jokes, pathetic and embarrassed buggy because he's bad at communicating. All parties are consenting adults.

→ Chapter 2

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

“Make good choices!” you called out to your crewmates as they streamed off the ship and into the night. It had been ages since any of you had free time and most of the crew chose to spend it in town, savoring goods and experiences that were sparse out at sea. Fresh food, endless alcohol, and sex with people you didn’t work with.

You, on the other hand, were stuck on the ship. Your freedom was clipped short when you were put on night guard duty. Someone had to mind the ship at night and it fell to the new recruit who didn’t know they should lie about already having plans. Secretly, you didn’t mind. There was supposed to be a meteor shower soon and this gave you an excuse to look for the shooting stars.

The dark and quiet night draped over the ship, a heavy blanket that muffled the soft crashes of sea. A soft breeze danced through the palm trees on the shore, moving them in time with the echoes of music and laughter that drifted from town. You were laid out on the deck, positioned to search the sky. Each pinprick of light was still in place, almost mocking you for remaining on the ship and not exploring elsewhere. As if you had a choice. 

Lost in thought and drifting among the constellations, you missed the sound of footsteps approaching your solo viewing party. They moved in time with the sound of waves, a natural ability from someone bound to the sea. Eventually you realized that the feeling of being watched wasn’t pouring from the watchful moon and stars, but from a presence nearby.

Your captain broke into a grin at the sight of your panicked double-take. The first look expressed confusion and the second carried fear. Neither were emotions that were foreign to him, the pirate clown has seen both directed at him many times before. But watching your head whip around to confirm it was the captain and the way your eyes widened was downright comical. 

Before you could scramble to your feet, Buggy crouched next to you. You sat up and surveyed his face, trying to assess how absolutely fucked you were. Honestly, it was hard to read anything past the fake smile painted on his face, but he looked more bemused than pissed. This could work in your favor.

“So…guard duty?” Buggy broke the silence first.

You cringed, unsure how to answer. How could you convince the captain you were on duty when you didn’t even hear him walk over? The guy wears heavy boots. On the plus side, he wasn’t wearing his coat full of knives, bombs, and other superfluous noise makers. Even still, that wasn’t enough of an excuse.

“What were you even looking at?” he questioned, each word emphasized by his mischievous smile.

“The stars,” you answered, glancing back up at the silent audience. At the edge of your vision, you saw Buggy also turn towards the sky. “There are supposed to be shooting stars, but I haven’t seen any.”

“Ever?” He turned his attention back to you. The question caught you off-guard and you shook your head.

“Damn, if I had the right prop I could make your night.” Buggy could see the gears turning in your head, producing a complete lack of understanding. He sighed disappointedly and mimed shooting at the sky before gesturing at himself. “Shooting…star…” It was so obvious.

You groaned and covered your face, not sure if your laughter was because it was actually a good joke, or because Buggy delivered the gag like it was. Satisfied with your response, Buggy joined you in sitting on the wooden floor and looked back at the sky.

Massaging the rest of the laughter out of your cheeks, you turned towards your captain. “Have you ever seen one? A real shooting star?”

“Countless times. They’re really a sight to see…the stars know how to put on a show.” 

In the corner of his eye, Buggy saw you nod as he spoke, noting how you gazed at him a moment longer than usual. Normally the attention would make Buggy feel self-conscious, but the air between you two felt comfortable. It always did. Not that you two interacted much, but he picked up on your calm composure, even when he was wreaking havoc on the crew. Even now, as you eased yourself back into lying on the floor, you exuded a sense of peace. Moving naturally, as if you were hanging out with a close friend and not your boss. Maybe this was all conjured by the loneliness in his head. Still, Buggy indulged in the atmosphere. He joined you in spreading out on the floor for a better view of the sky and there you both lay, under boundless celestial nightlights. 

“Do you know the names of the constellations?” you questioned, putting a pause to the relaxed silence you were sharing.

Buggy nodded and started rattling off celestial names while a disembodied gloved hand floated overhead, pointing out each group of stars. After the first few, he started adding in a few made up constellations.

“Big Richie, it’s a magnificent, fearsome, circus lion.” “The Big Top Tent! See how it encompasses everything?” “Oh, this is my favorite, the Genius Jester Hat! It-”

The last one was cut off when your chuckles exploded into full-fledged laughter, satisfying the clown. “Alright, alright, I get it,” you choked out and elbowed his arm.

Buggy summoned his hand back, suddenly, hyper aware of how close you two were. Shoulders touching slightly after your giggle-fest. Hands a breadth apart. Fingers so close they could touch if he simply reached out. Heat grew in the places close to you, as if you were setting him on fire. 

You weren't aware, but you were doing it again. Consuming his mind, his attention. The way you always watched him - observed, really - interested Buggy. Occupying areas of his mind until there were days where he could only think of you. Think of ways to get your eyes on him. Your attention focused on him. Your laugh creating music for his ears. Your smile. Your lips.

There were also nights where the thoughts of you flooded his mind. At first he’d ignore them, believing it was a passing fancy. But they wouldn’t leave him alone. Every glimpse of you kept the tantalizing visions buoyant. Any shred of attention you gave him added to the relentless waves in his head, until he succumbed. He’d let the swell of endless thoughts and images consume his body until he was left shuddering and gasping your name in the dark. And now, that familiar tempest was brewing inside the pirate.

Buggy pulled his knees up, hoping the position would hide the bulge growing in his pants. Sure, he could leave, but he felt greedy. He wanted more. He wanted to stay close to you. To listen to your breathing. Feel the heat of your body…

“Captain?” Your voice snapped him back into the moment. He hummed an acknowledgement.

“I hope this isn’t too forward, but I’ve been wondering why you always wear gloves.” You nudged your hand against his, skin against fabric.

“Why? It’s part of my schtick. My role as a performing artist,” Buggy boasted.

“Mmm, part of your costume?”

“Exactly.” Buggy was pleased that you understood, but your next question tested that warm feeling.

“Are you performing now? Is this a bit?”

Buggy stayed silent. He held up his gloved hands, thinking about how to answer. To be honest, he wasn’t sure himself. It didn’t feel like a bit or a performance. There was something genuine here.

You watched as Buggy pulled off his gloves and set them down. So that was his answer. Seeing his bare hands felt surprisingly intimate. His nails were painted. Thankfully the dark night hid the blush overtaking your face. You copied Buggy and held out your hands. The two of you mimicking each other, palms raised to the sky as if waiting to collect the stars themselves.

Buggy reached over to grab one of your hands, remarking at how small it is compared to his. Other than the tell-tale calluses that all pirates have, his skin was soft. You liked how his grasp enveloped your hand. It was gentle. Cautious. Buggy liked how your hand felt in his. Warm and accepting.

Something was caught in the pirate’s throat. Words he knew he shouldn’t say, but would cause him to explode if he kept them contained. Buggy swallowed the nerves that threatened to shake his voice.

“I need you to do me a favor.” 

“Yes, Captain?”

Fuck. Even though Buggy has heard those words from you many times before, this time it sounded different. Better.

“Get on top of me.”

You turned your head to see if you heard him right. Before you could ask and confirm, his detached hands were tugging and nudging you to move. Your body felt clumsy. It was in disbelief, trying to catch up to the thoughts running through your mind and the demanding hands maneuvering it into place. Nervous and confused, you straddled Buggy - trying very hard not to sit on him - and looked down. This was something you imagined before, but it was not how you expected it to go. Although Buggy avoided looking at you, choosing to scowl at a random area on the deck instead, the hands holding your hips told you that this is what he asked for

“Cap-”

“Don’t say anything. J-just…just do me this favor.” 

He saw you nod in the corner of his eye. He finally relaxed his legs, laying them back down. The hold on your hips tightened and Buggy pressed you down, wanting you to truly be on top of him. You weren’t prepared for the hard object beneath you or for it to press back when you made contact. You jumped in surprise but Buggy kept you in place. Finally, he looked at you. His eyebrows were pulled into a frown and his jaw was tight. As expressive as the pirate clown was normally, this was one expression you couldn’t decipher. There was the usual frustration, but also embarrassment - or was it fear? - and want.

You let his hands ease you back down on to the erection trapped in his pants, sighing as it sat snuggly against you. Buggy’s hands kneaded your hips as he hissed at the feeling. While his grasp was gentle when he held your hand, the way he squeezed your body was not the same. He clung to you as if you were the last match in a dark room. Something he desperately needed. Something that would grant all his wishes.

Buggy’s cock felt so hard that it was almost painful just sitting on it. When his hands began to pressure your hips back and forth, you welcomed the movement and rocked in time with his hold. Whenever he throbbed against your body, you returned the gesture by pressing into him more. You knew Buggy enjoyed that sensation by how he groaned and moved underneath you in ecstasy. It was mesmerizing and you wanted more. Leaning forwards, you placed your hands on Buggy’s chest and angled your hips so that you could grind yourself against his entire length. 

The unexpected pressure eased a low moan from the pirate. His eyes had been fluttering but now they opened wide to watch you. Fucking beautiful. That’s all Buggy could think at the moment. Your head was tilted back in bliss while little moans and whimpers slipped from your mouth. The way you worked your body on his, driving your hips against his cock, was far better than any meteor shower. Buggy felt himself get closer to the edge thinking about how your cunt was so close. Only a few measley layers of fabric kept him from ramming himself into your wet heat and fucking you until you saw stars.

You noticed that his cock was becoming needier by the moment, throbbing and twitching below you. Rolling your hips, you rubbed your clit against his hardness. The sensation rocked through your body, a terrible side effect of the delicious feeling which left you weak. Eager to chase the climax that was close, you wanted to ask your captain for help. Before you could get a full word out, your head was pulled backwards. A disembodied hand was entangled in your hair, drawing you into an arch. The change in position left your mouth open, but the tension prevented you from saying anything more. Unable to keep pressure on your clit, you felt the climax ebb away.

“S-shhhh, n-not a word,” Buggy groaned. 

He knew he took advantage of his position as your captain and couldn’t bear to think about what you might say while he was exerting that power. It was cowardly and pathetic, but he was too far gone.

Although Buggy still had one hand on your hip, he started bucking against you. His movements were forceful and sloppy. When Buggy gasped and his hips stuttered, you knew that he reached his end. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to imagine the lewd face he must be making. What his cock looked like releasing each stream of jizz. How it would feel in your cunt. Or in your mouth. What his cum tastes like.

Once Buggy stilled underneath you, he finally loosened his grip on your hair. Breathlessly, you looked at the flushed, panting, pirate before you. As the heat from Buggy’s climax dissipated and the load in his pants began to cool and clump together, he felt ashamed and sick of himself. He could barely look you in the eyes again. Giving into his cowardice, Buggy tried to ease you off of him before resorting to his devil fruit ability when he couldn’t quickly detangle your bodies.

“Wai-”

“Thanks.” Buggy spoke over you, still afraid to hear what you might say. What you might regret. He awkwardly picked his gloves off the floor before leaving, opting to have his feet walk away while the rest of his body floated. He already felt like shit and feeling the cold globs of sadness in his pants rub against him wouldn’t help.

And that’s where you finished the rest of your guard duty that night. It gave you plenty of time to think about what happened and analyze. And overthink. And overanalyze. That was an awful way to leave someone after using them like some sort of fuck toy. But…there was a part of you that liked it. He clearly wanted you. Or part of you. And you found that exciting.

Based on how Buggy practically fled the scene, you weren’t sure how things would be tomorrow. Still you couldn't help but think about what could have happened if you spoke up. What you wish happened instead.

[marlynnofmany]

Best Suited to the Task

I entered the spaceship kitchen to a strange sight. Zhee had one of his exoskeletoned pincher arms stuck between the stovetop and the counter, fishing for something, while Eggskin stood out of the way. Probably so they didn’t get whacked by a stray bug leg while Zhee’s attention was elsewhere. Eggskin was also holding the divider thingy that usually covered that particular gap. Cleaning wipes sat on the stove. A half-prepared plate of Mesmer food sat on the counter.

“What’s happening?” I asked, though I was pretty sure I knew.

Zhee pulled back and clicked both pinchers in irritation. “The sauce bottle is terribly designed.”

Eggskin clarified, “It rolled.” They set down the divider and gave my long human arms a calculating look. “You might be able to reach it, if it fell where I think. A bit to the side. Out of reach of glorious blade-arms.”

Zhee muttered something disagreeable and stepped aside, cleaning one pincher with the other.

“Sure, I’ll give it a shot,” I said. A look into the dark crevice didn’t help, but once I turned on the stove light, I caught a glimpse of something red. “Is it a red bottle?”

“Yes,” Zhee hissed.

I rolled up my sleeve and went for it, confident in my monkey limbs and the ability to bend my wrist. I probably had a better sense of touch than Eggskin too, now that I thought about it. No scales. And Eggskin’s arms were far too small to even try reaching this far down.

But mine weren’t quite up to the task either. That gap was narrow, and while my arms weren’t bulky by anyone’s standards, I was getting stuck at the bicep area. I reluctantly took my arm back out. “No luck,” I admitted. Before either of them could be too disappointed, I opened the lowest drawer under the counter. “Maybe we can reach it from down here.”

“Those don’t come out all the way,” Eggskin said.

I’d just discovered the same thing. I tried reaching an arm in past it, elbowing the dishes, but that gap was even narrower. I wasn’t about to admit defeat. “What’s stopping it? This bar right here? I feel screws. I’ll bet I can take that off. Lemme get a screwdriver.” Closed the drawer and hopped to my feet. “I’ll be right back!”

While Zhee complained about bottle designers who should have made the thing square, and Eggskin went back to cleaning, I dashed off to borrow a screwdriver from Mimi.

I almost tripped over him in the hallway, since he wasn’t walking at full tentacle height. I managed to dance past him just in time. Eggskin’s medical bay may have been nearby and the medtech there top-notch, but stepping on the ship’s mechanic was really something I wanted to avoid.

“Sorry!” I said over his popping noise of surprise. “I was just going to look for you, actually. Got a screwdriver I can borrow real quick?”

“Why?” Mimi’s rough voice was curious. He was already looking into the room I’d left in such a hurry.

“I want to detach a bar so I can pull a drawer all the way out. Zhee lost something between the counter and the stove.”

“Oh, down there? Here, I’ll get it for you.”

I thought he meant the screwdriver, but he tentacle-walked into the kitchen. I followed. Zhee was already off to the side, poking at his unsauced food, but Eggskin made a point of giving Mimi space.

He wrapped tentacles around the drawer handles and climbed right up to the countertop. Then as I watched, he reached into the gap and kept going. In less time than it took for me to drop my jaw in amazement, he’d disappeared completely.

I thought back to stories I’d heard about Earth octopus escape artists, and their ability to fit through any space wider than their beaks. It really shouldn’t have been surprising that Strongarms could too, but here I was: surprised.

A pale green tentacle holding a red bottle was the first to emerge, followed by the rest of him. I closed my mouth while Mimi schlorped out of the crack and handed the bottle to Zhee like it was nothing.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you.”

Eggskin stepped forward with the clean divider while Mimi dropped to the floor. “Excellent. Let me put this back on, and we won’t have to worry about that until the next deep cleaning session.”

“Got any wet-wipes?” Mimi asked, rubbing a tentacle over his head. “It’s dusty back there.”

“These are the chemical ones,” Eggskin said of the pack on the stove. “You don’t want those. I haven’t found the regular kind yet; I think someone misplaced them.”

“Oh! It’s up there!” From where I stood, I could see a similar pack on top of the cabinets, well above most of the crew’s head height. And if I stood on my tip-toes, I could just barely reach it. “Are these the ones?” I presented the pack triumphantly.

“Yes!” Eggskin said. “Why in the wormholes were they up there?”

As Mimi took them with a murmur of thanks, Zhee said, “I suspect Trrili. It could have been intentional or accidental, but she does prefer those for maintaining her shine.”

That made sense. Trrili’s exoskeleton was even glossier than Zhee’s, though I would never say so where either of them could hear me. And she could reach up there pretty easily.

But she wasn’t here to save the day in a minor way now, so I’d take what I could get. With everyone settled into their own tasks — Mimi cleaning his tentacles, Zhee eating a bowl of meat mash, and Eggskin wiping down the stove — I was free to get my own snack, which was what I’d come here for in the first place.

I think I’ll go for some string cheese. The conversation about that last time was pretty entertaining. You never know who’ll find something appealing when they think it’s a dense worm colony, but revolting when they find out it’s processed milk.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[akutasoda]

don't say anything else just stay

genshin ver part 2 [part 1 here]

synopsis - after a heated argument, maybe a resolve is found in a comfortable embrace

includes - diluc, xiao, kazuha, tighnari, freminet, dottore

warnings - gn!reader, angst to comfort/mild comfort, arguing, some characters are kind of scummy, maybe ooc for some, dottore, minor alcohol mention, wc - 2k

a/n: kept thinking about this and finally after ages i wrote it!

diluc ragnvindr ★↷

diluc, on the outside, was seen as the rather perfect lover. someone you could easily take home to parents and they would be so impressed, someone who is a classic romantic always aiming to sweep you off your feet.

and while he could be like that sometimes, some rare moments that only and very few knew off made you scoff at any comments about how perfect of a lover he must be. afterall, arguments always tore holes in relationships if not dealt with properly.

normally diluc was attentive and was very good with arguments. you two normally wouldn't worry about them. but sometimes his work life balanced suffered and he brought home all anger he held and unleashed it on you.

this was when problems arised as you both knew he shouldn't do that to you. so when the argument reached a rather harsh point you took the situation into your own hands and left dawn winery. you would return to your residence until diluc calmed down and would properly talk to you.

he stewed in his anger for much longer than he preferred and when he started to calm down he went looking for you. he assumed you would still be in the manor, just elsewhere. but he couldn't find you. and his heart absolutely sunk when adeline informed him you had left ages ago.

he cursed himself for being so reckless and he no longer cared about anything else and knew he had to try and sort things out - hoping you would give him such an opportunity.

when you saw diluc on your doorstep you still had half a mind to ignore him but you knew that would get you nowhere and you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn't miss him. and as soon as you opened the door you could see the noticeable lift in his eyes upon seeing you again.

the silence was quickly swamped with diluc's profuse apologies and regrets. and while he was rambling away you found yourself compelled to crawl into his arms. and so you did. and as soon as you hugged him, and he hugged back immediately shutting up. he basked in the moment as told himself he would never do something like this again as he would be dammed that he should ever lose you.

adeptus xiao ★↷

anyone that ever knew the adepti would know he never understood feelings. in fact one could take a guess from looks alone and assume that he struggles with emotional intelligence. and going into a relationship you were well aware of this and thought you would never mind.

and for the most part you didn't. because after the first major argument you two had he quickly learned that if he wanted to keep what you two had he would have to try and learn. try and learn human emotions. which he very quickly did, while he didn't express them he became surprisingly good at reading yours in particular.

but that didn't mean petty arguments still arose. petty arguments that sometimes would push you over the edge. as sometimes it felt as if you were the only one fighting for this relationship.

sometimes seeing xiao arrive home with scratches and such worried you. while you knew that it was minor and probably did nothing - it did make your mind over exaggerate other scenarios. and when you expressed your concerns, he would brush you off.

and eventually he started arguing back, saying harsh comments that he didn't mean but that didn't stop him from saying them. you were rather shocked it got to this so you left. and the minute you disappeared from his line of vision he panicked.

he realised his mistakes. and he knew he would have to own up to them. he was rarely used to people truly caring for him and when they did he lost them. and so he immediately set out to find you and when he did you were still fuming but to him, atleast you were safe.

he tried to apologize but he struggled deeply to find the right words to express how he truly felt. but seeing him try made you calm down - you knew he was trying his hardest. and you calmed down enough to head back with him and try talk it over properly again.

kaedehara kazuha ★↷

arguments were a rare occurrence with kazuha. he was very rational when it came to it but also did try and avoid getting to the point of an argument with you. but he knew some where unavoidable and that's why he would want to solve them as quick as possible.

most arguments did stem from mistakes. more commonly kazuha being swayed into drinking quite a bit with beidou. now she ment no harm by getting him to enjoy himself with the crew, but in that state he did start saying things he never meant.

so when you were trying to get him to bed as everyone else on the crux had retired for that night, he proved to be rather difficult. so much so that he started hurling insults your way. you knew he meant nothing by it but it still hurt.

and eventually you needed a minute or two to yourself. a few minutes turned into a couple of hours as you decided maybe he needed some space and eventually you drifted to sleep in the spare room on the crux that beidou originally gave you.

waking up the next morning, kazuha had a rather annoying headache but immediately noticed you weren't beside him. and then everything came flooding back to him and guilt consumed him whole. stepping out his room he realised how early it actually was so decided to look for you as silently as possible.

and when he found you in the spare room the guilt seemed to increase. he didn't want to wake you but he wanted to apologize. so he settled for sliding into bed next to you before apologizing even if you couldn't hear as he wrapped his arms around you. this way when you woke, he could sort it out with you.

tighnari ★↷

some may call tighnari stubborn and in retaliation he would just say he was dedicated to his work. and both of those were true. you were well aware that his work often stressed him out and he became very stubborn. and rightfully you didn't like it when he brought it home.

especially after you had a difficult day. wanting to see your boyfriend after a long day just to find him taking his anger out on you for a simple question. you only asked him a simple 'how was your day?' and it seemed as though he hated you.

and so you started retaliating his behaviour in the same way. forming a rather difficult argument. so much so that tighnari said a particularly harsh comment before storming out of your shared residence. you practically scoffed before deciding you had enough and wanted just to go to bed.

tighnari hardly got far before the argument registered in his mind. his ears flattening against his head as he felt regret. but another issue was that he wasn't that great with emotions, so he silently feared that he would make it worse should he do the right thing and turn back to apologize.

but he knew that should he let it last, it would only break the relationship more. so he turned and headed back to apologize. and when he arrived he caught you heading to bed. but it appeared you had no intentions on sleeping with him. and this made his ears and tail sink even further.

and before he knew it apology after apology spilt from his lips. you stared at him and you could feel him pull at your heart strings but you knew should he not learn, this would be a recurring problem. so you gave him a hug and returned to the couch. and he understood.

you two would talk it over in the morning but tighnari barely slept as your missing presence really disturbed his sleep. so much so that in the middle of the night he managed to settle next to you on the couch and almost immediately fell asleep.

freminet ★↷

to many people, they knew freminet was rarely expressive. and even from a distance it didn't take much to figure out that he struggled to express emotions. you knew this going into the relationship and you knew you would have to be patient with him.

but seemingly because of your relationship, he did make an effort to try and get better at expressing emotions. after all communication in different ways is very important. so he knew that this would be a weak point in the relationship but so did you.

and you always told him that he didn't have to try and learn as you couls help him figure it out along the way. but that being said, arguments were very rare. and when they occured they were very different to other arguments.

whenever an argument happened they were always ovee small insignificant reasons. and each time freminet went into this isolated state. he blocked out everything around him and ignored you, secretly hoping the issue went away but this time all it achieved was you going away.

you couldn't help but feel slightly bad for leaving so abruptly but you truly did need time to calm down. and if anything him ignoring you was worse than him arguing back. but freminet had panicked when you left and immediately wanted to find you and apologize.

and you barely heard him until you felt his arms wrap around your midsection as he apologized. and you knew how hard he was trying so you awkwardly shuffled in his grip to return the embrace. you two stayed like taht a little while longer as then you two could properly talk it over.

dottore ★↷

dottore was quite honestly far from being the perfect lover. and to many from the outside they would fear for the people daring enough to be in a relationship with him. but you knew differently. sure he had a very different way of showing affection but maybe you preferred it that way.

and he was a rather rational man - more so when it came to you. so arguments were rare and often dealt with swiftly. but for all the knowledge he had he was very inexperienced in emotional intelligence. so often could be stubborn or dissmissive of your feelings.

a common argument for you two was his work. not so much the fatui part, but the fact that he would most of the time choose to spend all his time in the lab for days on end without speaking to you. rightfully, this made you mad and for a while his segments did dampen this.

but you wanted to see your actual lover not his clones. and eventually he kept needing more and more in the lab. so you decided that if he wasn't going to acknowledge you, you weren't going to acknowledge him. so from the minute you next saw him, you ignored him.

he had little time for your antics. his experiment didn't go anywhere near how he wanted it to go and he did want to see you but now you were ignoring him. ao his already thin patience ram thinner and he eventually made the snide comment about your so called 'childish' behaviour. and eventually an argument ensued.

you had enough of him and left. atleast his segments had more emotional sense than he did. and it was one if the older segments that convinced him to apologize to you. so when he saught you out and found you he immediately dissmissed any segments you found company with.

you still ignored him up until you heard him apologize. you had half a mind to tease him but you knew how hard he struggled with stuff like this so you let him continue. he rambled on and on about how he promised he wouldn't do it again and how sorry he was. and eventually, very reluctantly, he opened his arms as if asking for a hug.

and you felt compelled to agree. you stayed in his embrace as he made his final promise. he soon came to realise actually how much you meant to him and you better believe him that he would do anything to keep you happy with him.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Capture the flag was coming up and your cabin was next to participate alongside the formidable Hermes cabin, but instead of being overjoyed at the opportunity to finally bring glory to your cabin like the rest of your siblings, you were off sulking elsewhere and busying yourself by plucking one blade of grass at a time; unaware that someone had notice your absense and decided to follow after.

‘Hey stranger.’ A voice came from beside said, making you flinch, only to relax when you saw that it was only Luke. ‘Why so sad, you normally love capture the flag.’ He adds, nudging your arm playfully as he flashed you a charming smile.

‘Yeah but after a string of repeat losses, you naturally begin to resent the game you once loved.’ You replied. There was no point denying the obvious fact that you cabin never had the best of luck when it came to capture the flag, it had always been that way even before you first arrived at camp, but at the time all you truly cared about was getting claimed by your godly parent.

You had only started truly resenting capture the flag after your second or third loss by the Ares cabin. Ever since then you hated the game because each time it ended the same, with your cabin loosing while the opposing cabin mocking you by rubbing their victory in your faces. Luke, much like everyone else, was well aware of this but didn’t feel it was necessary to keep bringing it up, especially not when he was trying to cheer you up somewhat and would try to divulge your attention elsewhere instead.

‘Well nows the chance to change all that.‘ he began. ‘To bring triumph to your cabin and be the one to revel in victory for once.’

You scoffed. ‘Yeah because we’ve had the great Luke Castellan, best swordsman in camp half blood, carry us on his back to our first ever win.’ You said bitterly, looking anywhere else than the boy with the dark, kind eyes. ‘What a joke.’

‘That’s not true.’ Luke tried to argue.

‘Yeah it is, you don’t need to lie in order to save my feelings Luke, I’m not stupid and neither is my cabin, why do you think we look our most happiest when any other cabin that’s not ours is up to play?’ You asked rhetorically, knowing that he very well knew the reason why. Luke, not wanting to wave the white flag of surrender then said, ‘even if that maybe the truth then they’ll also have to recognise that out of your entire cabin, you are the most determined and hardworking even in the most dire of circumstances.’ You could only look at him with an unreadable expression as Luke continued his speech.

‘Even when you know you’ve already lost, you still give it your all to make even the slightest bit of change. If it was anybody else, they would just give up but not you, not my y/n.’ Luke said fondly as he clasped one of his hands with your own, smiling softly when you squeezed his hand. ‘You’re too stubborn to accept defeat unless all other options were exhausted. An admirable trait to have if you ask me.’ You chuckled, feeling somewhat better from his words, not entirely but it was better than sulking the rest of the night and well into the next morning.

‘Some people would call that desperation to win.’ You told him as he shrugged his shoulders. ‘Then they’ve obviously never had to fight for something they always wanted but could never have.’ He replied oddly serious, looking at you intently as he said those words; which made you wonder if you were still talking about the same thing. ‘What do you mean by that-‘ before you could finish, Luke stood up abruptly, pulling you up with him as a result of your hands still being firmly clasped with one another. ‘Give me a warning before you pull that shit again, yeah?’ You said, smacking his arm lightly, causing him to laugh.

‘I’ll take that into consideration for next time, but we should probably try and get as much sleep as we can so we don’t look like the walking dead before the game even begins.’ He playfully chided and it felt more of an excuse as to avoid having a deeper conversation about something, but you were already staring to feel the effects from that mornings activities beginning to weigh on you as you tried to bite back a yawn.

‘I second that decision.’ You said, tugging your hand from his own, feeling Luke’s hesitance in letting go and thinking nothing of it other than something your mind made up as you began to depart for your cabin. ‘I shall see you bright and early tomorrow, will I?’ You questioned.

‘Yes but you better not try and wake me up earlier than necessary like last time.’ Luke replied as you made a face. ‘Me? Prank you? I would never.’ You said dramatically at the accusation being thrown your way, seeing you get back to your old self was enough to reassure Luke that you’d be more then ready for tomorrow as he crossed his arms over his chest, brow raised as he smirked. ‘Oh yeah? How do I know you and the Stoll brothers haven’t done something to my bed back at the Hermes cabin, hmmm?’

‘You’ll just have to take my word for it that I don’t have any connections in any one of their pranks that may happen tomorrow, and if they tell you otherwise, they’re dead wrong.’ You said before disappearing up the trail towards your cabin, leaving Luke to watch on as he chuckles to himself. ‘Guess we’ll have to wait and see.’