#though also happy space janitor

[katakarambles]

To Sarah T. Deen,

I know you're new, but if you can't imagine why the researchers need sturdier cages you seriously lack both creativity and common sense.

I know the two of you don't get along but you really should talk to Toby. He's seen some shit. Or you should have before you were slain.

Sincerely, the sci-fi space janitor who has to clean up your entrails.

[jjungxkook]

blackout (halloween drabble) | jjk

⇥ pairing: roommate!jungkook x reader

⇥ genre: est rel, roommate and college au, fluff, crack, smut

⇥ rating: 18+

⇥ warnings: really just the tiniest hint of angst, but otherwise just crack and fluff I think, spooky szn, he's the Joker and she's Harley Quinn, lame college party, the gang is there, forest stuff, reader is a bit sad and disappointed in jk but he redeems himself!, kissing, sexy times, unprotected sex, choking, spanking, jerking off, fingering, sex in a janitor's closet haha, ass love, and yeah!!

⇥ wc: 5.4k!

⇥ author’s notes: happy early halloween! I will be busy next week, so I thought I could post this one already. also, since it's been one! damn!! year!!! since I dropped anything at all (sry!!). I promise Encore is on its way, so enjoy this in the meantime. very unedited and I started it just yesterday, so pls no hate haha okay that's it!! love you!!!

⇥ summary: Jungkook and you seek a carefree and calm Halloween this year, until it turns into this… nightmare.

–

Jungkook’s make up is smudged beyond repair… And you strongly guess you aren’t faring any better.

Your costumes are basic to their core. In the past hour alone, you’ve seen half a dozen of you. Jungkook rubs at the eyeshadow above the apple of his cheek, smearing the black some more.

He looks like the Joker at the end of his mental capacity. A worse mess than DC’s character already is. Only, Jungkook is still rocking the look – one damn kink of yours if you had a specific one. It’s the loosened tie… the purple coat–

You feel at home in your own role. Sporting the peroxide blonde hair, tied in two tails, one ending in a faded blue, and the other in a dim pink. You purchased colored hair sprays just for today, but can’t wait to wash the chemicals out of your hair.

Jungkook ruined one of the pigtails approximately an hour ago, and it hasn’t recovered since then, no matter how hard you tried to fix it. In truth, you didn’t mind the tugging at that moment anyway.

How could you? Not with the endorphins pumping through you at lightspeed, enhanced by the darkness around you at that stupid college party.

The student representatives organized this year’s big fete, though they must have forgotten to add the fun factor to it. Because the party was lame: the bar was filled with students from various departments, but most of them remained either sober or wound up broke.

Because the drinks were painfully expensive. The numbers on your bills spooked through your mind when you looked at the price, further frustrated when you realized that they weren’t selling much more than dry, small pizza and flavorless toast.

Once again, for an outrageous price.

Halfway through, the two of you snuck to a bathroom, relying on each other’s company alone. But the toilet cabinets were either taken or unspeakably disgusting – so in the rush, you settled for the pitch dark janitor’s closet instead.

You could barely see his silhouette in there, half sober, but not quite acting like it. Intoxicated by how he suckled on your neck, more a vampire than the Joker. Or by how he probably bruised your thighs, your shorts and tights down to your knees, much like his green pants.

You remember the whispers in the dark. The quiet “Wanna pound you into the mattress” and the “We should really go home.” Accompanied by the way he rubbed his cock against your stomach, body inches from you as his fingers dug into your pussy.

But you wouldn’t make it home yet, because his movements were too rapid to stop. The tears pricking your eyes too prominent. The hand around your neck wouldn’t stop pressing in, and you were firmly fixated on jerking him off to the end.

There was no way you were going to go home yet.

When he kissed you, you could taste both your lipsticks on your tongues. And then, cheek against the wall, ass out as he slammed his thick cock into your tight space, you tasted all the spice and sweetness he could offer.

God, a fucking man starved.

You still feel how his thighs held yours together, and your ass cheeks still burn from the palm and nails scratching, slapping, squeezing the flesh…

You tried your best to fix your make up afterwards, but you looked like modern art in the worst way, eyeliner and mascara dry on your face. The Joker’s cheek scars reach to his ears now. And as you look at him now, you still shiver.

His sweat-soaked mane hasn’t fully dried yet, a bit longer than weeks ago. Gives him that wet-hair look you usually enjoy after his showers. And behind the collar of his dress shirt, you still catch a glimpse of the lipstick print he wanted before you went out.

“Here,” he’d said, pointing to his thick, bare neck, adorned by a vein, “I’ll even open a button of my shirt just for this.”

And you were absolutely ready to mark your territory – it seemed he was just as enthusiastic about it. That is, before you forgot and then rectified your mistake in that bar bathroom. He can flex it now after all…

Anyway. Where were you again?

Right. The purple coat.

There’s something incredibly insane about how he’s draped it over his shoulder, both hands in the pockets of his pants. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, his arms veiny and strong. A full lower lip is light red now; your make out session made the bright red fade.

And the goddamn black around his eyes… he could throw the mildest statement at you, and you’d probably still be intimidated.

Could almost distract you from why you refused to give that neck kiss in the first place. Or why you were veiling your true mood.

“What are we gonna do now?” Jungkook asks, nudging your elbow.

“What do you mean? You’re not tired?”

But you understand the idiocy of your question the moment it tumbles out – you’re asking the wrong man. This guy, you have well noticed, does not sleep until late in the night. And a healthy sleep schedule becomes even more of a foreign concept on holidays.

So you’re not surprised when he blows a raspberry and almost mockingly responds, “It’s not even midnight.”

“That’s late, Jungkook,” you still try.

“Not on Halloween.” Yeah. Just what you thought. “Besides, we need to wait for the witching hour. Wanna see the ghosts come out and whatnot.”

You laugh, the scolding hidden behind the smile. “Kook…”

“We could play Uno again!” He suggests, but you instantly scrunch up your nose. Most of the time, he wins – it’s probably why he enjoys it so much. But his next idea is worse. “Or Until Dawn.”

“No way,” you shoot. “You know what’s gonna happen, right?”

Judging the conniving smirk, more daunting with the eerie make up on, you guess he knows very well. He must remember last Halloween as well as you do.

Back when you let him convince you into watching Silent Hill with him, you were already at the edge, but – the sudden knocks at your door and impatient ringing of your bell didn’t help.

You jumped in place, accidentally kicking his shin and nearly knocking over the popcorn. You shed an immediate tear, convinced your heart was going to give out. Jungkook, between the cries of ache, was chuckling, and soon holding your head to his heart.

The cursing against his chest is cemented in your mind; you remember that he turned the movie off for you and switched to something tamer on Disney+.

“We’re together now, Pumpkin,” he tries to argue. “I’ll kiss your fears away.”

You’ll admit, you like the tone of it. It hasn’t been very long, so any term concerning your togetherness covers your skin in chills. And considering how it’s Halloween, the nickname gains just a bit more warmth, too.

But you stay resolute, dodging his constant nudging as you repeat, “No way!”

Your words stop Jungkook in his tracks. The laugh disappears and even his eyes change. Maybe you came off too strong, because behind the mask of the Joker, he looks insecure and taken aback.

“Are you… Okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer.

You pull down the crop top under your open jacket, clearing your throat when the movement forces his eyes to your chest, right where the shirt stretches over your tits. Folding your arms in front of your torso, you raise your chin in the confidence that’s barely there.

You lie, “Yes. Why?”

“You’re acting like you were before we left. Then you were okay at the party.” He points into a random direction, presumably the one you came from. You don’t know how many turns you took since then, but you’re near the woods now. “Now you’re not anymore again.”

“I’m fine!”

Oops. Too strong again. Maybe the built up frustration and disappointment aren’t gone after all. You thought the evening might change something – apparently not.

Once again, he asks, “Are you sure?”

You stay silent. Look away, haphazardly across the street. The street lamps illuminate the dark path, covered in leaves, surrounded by trees. Has a real Halloween feel to it.

You watch ghosts stroll past you. Some of the students on campus still carry a young, tender spirit, cutting holes in thin blankets to drape them over their bodies. It makes you smile.

But then you look back at Jungkook and immediately wish you had a cloth hiding your true emotions, too. Because when his eyes pierce those dejected holes into your body, you finally cave in.

“You… you know that I was top of my class, right?” You avert your stare, but then decide to focus on his chin instead. “Mr Kim liked my paper so much that he even offered that I join his research? And he’s like, very cherished in the Sociology community?”

Aside from the wind, nature and the world go quiet for a second, just when you do, but then you say, “So it’s a huge opportuni–”

“I know… You told me.”

Oh. So he remembers.

“So I told you,” your voice is quieter now, “and you just… didn’t seem to care? You haven’t spoken about it or asked even once. Not even what the research is on.”

Like a parrot, he repeats, “I know. I… I got busy with my own exams and…”

He stops midway and you wait. Maybe there’s more to come… Or maybe not. He doesn’t budge. You feel your heart drop… You assumed he had forgotten or that you might’ve hallucinated telling him about it. 

But the fact that he remembers, yet doesn’t have it in him to care hurts.

You swallow hard and then sigh, unable to say much more than you already have. He, yet again, purls, “I’m sorry.”

How shitty.

You’ve always helped him with his assignment, each time he needed any aid. He reciprocated it, no doubt, but. Now that you think about it, he distanced himself the moment you got this news and forwarded it to him.

You feel horrible. If you physically could, if you weren’t frozen in place, you’d pour out your heart to him. But all you know is that your mood has dropped to the Earth’s core, your mouth barely open when–

A rough tug pulls you away from Jungkook’s body. You stumble, almost tripping over your own feet, and yelp. There’s no way to still catch your bag mid-air, because whatever culprit snatched it off your shoulder, is already running away.

And into the dense forest. Fuck.

You use all your throat’s might to scream your lungs out, screeching at the perpetrator, “What the fuck!!”

“Hey!” Jungkook yells in kind, following right behind you the moment you start to sprint.

The asphalt is easier to tackle than the forest, though. The ground is soft, still a little damp from the rain of the last days. And the white-black-red Harley Quinn boots with their thick heels do not help.

You chase the figure – he’s tall, a bit too fast for you. Wearing a mask that you’re sure was… green?

You swear and pant when he picks up on pace, and throw more insults into his direction when he takes a sharp, sudden right. Jungkook jogs past you when you look over your shoulder for him, instructing quickly, “I’ll trap him from the left!”

And then, he’s gone. No. What?

“No, I– you can’t leave me alone!” Nothing comes back. Shit, your boyfriend wants you dead. “Fuck.”

With a shake of your head and a deep inhale of a breath, you move. Perhaps you’re too late, because by now, you don’t hear any steps anymore. You don’t know how far behind that thief left you, but as you find yourself lost in the middle of nowhere, you halt.

You can’t see anyone anymore. Not the guy. Not Jungkook.

And it’s so uncannily quiet. Dark. The leaves rustle, but only when the breeze blows through them. You search the spot, but there’s truly nobody and nothing; not even a goddamn squirrel.

You call for Jungkook, but don’t receive an answer back.

Where did he go? Did he catch the jerk? It must’ve been a Shrek mask. Of all fucking things. And why do they always run into a forest anyway?

No matter. At least you’ll be able to describe him to the police.

You suck in a breath, leaning down, hands over your knees. Out of air, you groan as your lungs burn. But then you get up, swallowing and sniffling, scared as you whisper to yourself, “The phone…”

You fish it out of your shorts – Hallelujah to whoever created this costume, because they’re a whole lot better than the pocketless jeans in your closet. If you’d put the device in your bag, you’d be screwed properly.

Activating the flashlight, you turn in a slow circle. In the silence, only broken by grasshoppers and other chirping animals, you hear your heart pounding in your ears. A shaking hand holds your phone as you look around.

And right when you’re already through the 360 turn–

Fingers wrap around the hand clutching the phone, definitely not yours. There’s a call of your name, but you barely take the voice in, flinching and screaming in place. Has your voice ever sounded this high pitched?

Ready to throw your phone at him and roundhouse kick the stranger, you lift a leg, but he immediately grabs your wrist in a familiar gesture. Turns the light to his face, squinting at its intensity, and eventually, you realize that…

“What the fuck are you doing?” You spit.

“I was looking for you!” Jungkook answers, lowering the phone. “I didn’t find him.”

“Yeah, I didn’t either! But fuck, why…” You still can’t breathe properly. A hand moves to your chest. “Why did you scare me so much, I–”

Your limbs are trembling, knees attempting to force you down to the ground. But you hold yourself steady, anger growing bloody red inside you. It bubbles and simmers, and when he doesn’t respond, you almost snarl.

You push at his chest, eyes damp. You want to throw more shit at him, even though he’s not at fault – and once you realize, you calm down just a little. The forest is still around you, and you’re still not out of it by far.

Yet, you feel at ease. Because he’s here. Because he’s standing there, in the middle of the night, at fucking Halloween where you could run into any insane axe murderer.

But when you understand where the comfort is coming from, your heart slows down, still beating in your stomach, but at a more normal pace now.

“Fuck,” you whisper once again, and then stumble forward and into his arms.

He cradles you with the fragility of a glass doll. But the squeezes he provides offer warmth your chilled soul craves on this autumn night. Hushed, you hear him speak, “Baby, I…”

His words drip with hesitation and… guilt even. Wrong timing; you can’t dwell on the uncertainty now. Still sniffling, quivering, you press against his chest again. Softer this time, yet unyielding, you demand, “Don’t ever do that again.”

“I’m sorry. This is my fault.”

“No–”

“Honestly, I should’ve just… Congratulated you.”

Wrong timing indeed. He’s agonizing over something that you aren’t bothered with. Not right now, at least. But you heard it so clearly in the timbre of his voice – that he didn’t mean the jump scare. You let him continue.

“I worked so hard on my stuff, too, and then got jealous. Which is absolutely not a good boyfriend treat to have.”

“Kook–”

There’s turmoil in his words. Ugh, what’s going on?

“I’m genuinely thrilled for you. And I–”

There’s an entire conversation to have, you’re sure. But the timing. The fucking timing!

He wants to unveil more, but then something happens. A flicker in your peripheral vision alerts you of a movement, and when you turn your head, you see the same mysterious figure lurking in the shadows.

God, he’s insane. Your guts twist.

Was he eavesdropping all along, or was he simply hiding, trying to remain invisible, inexplicably unwilling to flee? Why did he not run before? This is odd. So chillingly odd.

Or maybe he was still nearby and trying not to make a sound…

You don’t know. And time is not a luxury you can’t afford for pondering such enigmas right now.

New adrenaline surges through you, different this time. The fear is clear, but the guy seems pathetic to a certain level – and if he’s so keen on roaming around, you’ll make sure he stays right in your proximity.

So you listen to the hammering of your heart, and without a second thought, you dash towards the stranger who appears equally startled and disoriented. You feel like a charging bull, closing the distance at an astonishing pace.

That’s what they probably mean when they speak about mothers being able to lift cars for their kids, because you feel invincible. Your shoes may not be designed for such a pursuit, and you’re certainly not as hardcore as Harley Quinn, but they lose against your determination.

The trees blur around you as you relentlessly chase the intruder, only clearing in your vision when you finally catch up with him. Jungkook might be behind you, but you choose not to look behind you this time.

Instead, you yell a battle cry, growling through your teeth, “Don’t you fucking–”

But that’s all before you tackle him to the ground. You expect a fight, expect his slim limbs to fling around, but he barely moves. He lets you push him onto the fallen leaves, and the only glimpse of any sound by him that you catch is a weird voice crack.

“Fu–” Is all you notice, but you can’t analyze the voice before Jungkook is helping you up again. 

You protest, but still get to your feet, watching Jungkook pull the man up harshly. He says to you, “You caught him.”

“Guess so.”

You take another breath, jaw clenched when you move to the stumbling thief and attempt to take the mask off. Shrek, as you said. You can’t quite say whether that night is terrifying or absurd. Probably both.

But the guy fights your try, suddenly mute again, but not resisting when Jungkook pulls at his arm and starts leading him somewhere. What? 

“Where are you going?” You ask, confusion sitting in the valley between your eyebrows. “Let’s go back and call the police, Jungkook.”

“There’s gotta be an opening. Keep going, I just need light to see his face.”

“I have a phone. Jungkook, sto–”

Seems like a very risky moment to ignore you, but Jungkook moves forward with determination. But it’s strange how he isn’t looking around. Never searching his surroundings, as if he already has a certain target in mind.

Now, you’ll admit that his sense of direction is unerring on any other day, too, but this is…

“I swear, you’re gonna kill us both,” you hiss, reflexively lowering your voice in the darkness. The masked mugger is grunting too much to hear you anyway, but you guess that affects Jungkook’s senses, too.

He just won’t stop. At least, until you reach a tiny clearing.

You don’t know how deep in the forest you are, because you can’t see the moon from here. The stars are the mere source of light here, albeit barely enough to illuminate the other bodies standing on the opposite side of the dimly lit space.

Wait. More people? Here?

What the hell.

Their faces, obscured by shadows, are unmoving. You ready yourself for an apology – maybe you interrupted some weird get-together. A shady ritual executed by some secret college club.

But as you strain to discern their features, a gradual realization dawns upon you. One of them steps forward, his features partially hidden, and one or two other familiar friends from your classes occupy the periphery.

It’s Jin. Also Jimin – a guy you and Jungkook met during one of your study sessions. Taehyung introduced him to your group. And the pursuit takes on an even more bewildering turn when you look at Jungkook and see that he’s no longer clutching the robber.

The man is standing there in silence, massaging the back of his head. Seemingly unperturbed. Perplexed and still out of breath, you utter, “What in the world?”

You shake your head, eyes deeply furrowed. You close the distance between you and the confusing figure, snatch your bag from him and finally shed the mask that conceals his identity.

And then, you see it. The unexpected face behind the bizarre charade.

“Taehyung?” You exclaim.

Jungkook, having caught his breath faster than you, mimics your incredulous tone, “Taehyung, what the hell?”

Oh. So he’s just as confused. The man in question glances over to his friend, his expression one of sheer frustration as he grumbles another very puzzling statement.

“Jeon, I will kill you.”

“Sorry,” Jungkook mutters back.

Or… not? Huh?

You’re speechless. Out of movements and words, you keep your feet planted on your spot, blinking as you wait for someone to explain. But they’re not even looking at you, so you seek clear clarification.

“What’s going on here?” You ask.

Jungkook’s half-smile agitates you more than it should. Why the heck is he smiling?! But you breathe in through the nose, hoping for the forest’s scent to calm your nerves.

“Well,” he admits, “I guess I owe him one. ‘Cuz you were not supposed to tackle him.”

“Right!” Taehyung concurs.

“And you were not supposed to disappear!” Jungkook chimes in, pointing an accusatory finger at his friend. His voice is tinged with reproach. “You…”

“Guys,” you interject. What the fuck.

Jungkook sighs, full attention on you. You try your hardest to not look at the creepy crowd to your left, friends and acquaintances standing there as if they’re about to sacrifice you to a demon.

“He was supposed to lead you here, but somehow we didn’t manage to pull it through,” Jungkook says.

His words leave you pondering. You have not the darndest clue about what’s going on. So you ask, “We?”

“Your…” The assembled group draws near, a few of your friends holding various items. “Your paper.”

Huh…

They’re carrying indiscernible things. And a pie, and…

“Of course I remembered your paper, baby,” Jungkook declares.

Oh, wait. Is that what you think it is? Because if it is, then your instincts were entirely wrong today. Or the entire time since you received the news. Maybe you were just so out of your mind because of the general Halloween atmosphere?

What were you expecting… An axe murderer for real? Dammit…

No. It was much more obvious, yet impossible to figure out. This man. This man!

A wave of relief washes over you as you process his words. You think that now, you even understand what they’re all holding. Or what it’s for…

“So you weren’t…” You start.

You drift off, watching Jungkook shake his head. His response is heartfelt, his love and pride evident. He looks at you with infinite sweetness; but a lot of guilt, too.

“Jealous?” He finishes. “I’d be crazy to be. You’re part of me.”

His blinking is soft and the tongue licking his red lips shiny in the extremely faint starlight. You know he isn’t done yet, so you wait… Focus on the tingle on your skin.

“You are part of me,” he says again, “so I’ll celebrate any achievement of yours like it’s mine. And this was… is a huge fucking thing to happen for you.”

You feel your head tilt and the muscles in your face relax. Your lips move to a smile, parted to give way to the longest sigh known to humankind. But if you indulged in the cheesy interaction now, your friends would remind you of it every game night.

Which is why you get yourself together, postponing the screeching and second tackling to later when you’re alone again. You shake off some of the weakness he causes every day, and give into the urge to nudge teasingly.

“You’re such a jerk for scaring me like that.”

A playful grin tugs at the corners of his mouth, as typical as can be. “I needed to make it Halloween-themed, Pumpkin. I’m sorry, but you know I had to.”

Your initial scolding turns into a loving retort, “I hate you.”

But the banter is short-lived as you lose against the surge of emotions, your hand moving to push him lightly once again before immediately lifting to his collar. You capture it, pulling him close to you until his wide eyes close and your lips collide.

In the background, you hear an instant chorus of “Aww”s, but grunts, too. Among the cooing, you hear a mumbled speech about how you need to get a room, but you only react with a smile against his mouth. You kiss him deeper, tongues gently intermingling.

And just when the hand holding the back of your head slips to your lower back, pressing you into him, the shiver becomes unbearable. Emotions shoot through your body and down between your legs – so you stop.

For a couple seconds longer, you look at whatever you can see from his eyes in the dark, flashing a smile. He rounds his lips and releases air through them, a temptingly silent way to let you know that you affected him.

You ignore it for your mentality’s sake, moving away from him to look at your friends. You cough and gesture to the objects in their hands, asking, “What’s all this about?”

If you could see them, you’d probably see a mischievous twinkle in their eyes. Jin at least sounds like it as he beckons you closer with a nod, ready to reveal whatever they’ve orchestrated for you.

You already expected the answer to your question, but the wrapping confirms your assumption. Gifts. Quite a few of them, bigger and smaller. As you move from one to the other, they announce the objects before you’re able to rip the paper off.

A friend gifts you a Swarovski Crystalline pen for your “Super fancy notes as you do your super fancy research.” Reflects their support for your scholarly pursuits, you guess.

Jimin surprises you with an exclusive album by your favourite group. Then, a little plushie to destress whenever you need, along with a college survival guide and “Sociology for Dummies” – all by Jin. Of course.

And lastly, a Lord of the Rings Lego set that you’ve desired for super long, a group effort. It’s a labor of love, for sure. A collective endeavor by friends who united to make your dreams come true – but honestly, who scared you to death, too.

You don’t know how you make it out of the forest again, still reprimanding Taehyung and Jungkook on your way out. Granted, you did get lost as a group once, and then found your beloved streetlamps again ten minutes later.

The treasures secured in a bag, Jungkook places them on your couch with a long and deep sigh once you arrive home, calming down from today’s hours. The night seemed endless. Wouldn’t finish – and you’re exhausted beyond measure.

But even through your falling eyelids, you manage one more expressive glance, pure disbelief hiding in your gaze as you say, “I absolutely didn’t expect any of this.”

Jungkook is a true mirror to you. Equally worn out, he lets his head fall a little, one hand still in the pocket of his pants. He looks ridiculously attractive, fatigue or not. Curls of his longer hair hang in his eyes as he rubs them, the smile gentle despite the sinister make up.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he says, voice low and quiet. “To be honest, I kinda felt bad halfway through.”

Ah. Explains the guilty eyes and voice. The way he attempted to apologize and grew all shy and quiet before you threw Taehyung to the ground.

“Don’t. The plan almost worked, and my heartbeat is still intact.” You laugh, punching his arm lightly. “But… Don’t do shit like that again next year.”

“I can’t promise it. You know that.”

You roll your eyes, watching him try to walk away – and you might not have held him back and grasped the dress shirt at the elbow if…

Is that the window creaking?

You gasp, still more on the edge than you expected, and throw a peek over your shoulder. You moved a couple weeks ago – there’s no way your place is already making these sounds. Or maybe that’s the reason after all… You should get to renovating.

“Was that you, too?” You ask, leaning into him with a cocked eyebrow.

“It was not. How would I do that?” He promises. His words are accompanied by movements; he’s walking around the living room now, as if he’s looking for something. “I’m not a ghost. Just the Joker.”

“A sly one, though…”

You look to the window again as he crams around in the box under your table, and appropriate to the holiday, you detect a harmless raven, perched on the windowsill. The sight elicits a small chuckle – but you don’t hear a sound from Jungkook.

When you turn back to him, you understand why. He’s distracted, still crouching. Then he gets up with… An object in his hand. No, two. Not any you carried home just now, but much smaller, thinner. Paper?

Idly, he walks back to you, fingers adorned in tattooed letters holding two cards toward you. You look into his eyes, confused and seeking answers silently, but he only holds the objects closer to you, urging you to take them.

“What’s that?” You ask.

“Read, and you’ll know.”

And when you oblige, you understand. Maybe the little celebration on the clearing didn’t quite end there. Because the inscription on the cards reveals that he put more thought into this than you knew.

The tiny party and group effort Lego set weren’t his only tokens of affection. The weekend getaway, resting in your hands and awaiting you next week, must be tonight’s finale. A prelude to the impending wave of tedious work. 

“As an escape. Even for just a moment,” Jungkook explains, reaching forward. His hand settles on your cheek and pulls your face up, meeting your eyes. “Just you and me.”

To bask in serenity and rejuvenation, is that it? Just you and him…

“Really?” You wonder, eyes knitted together, lips pouting. You’re drowning in fondness.

“I wanna give you all the relaxation you need, in any way. Big things ahead after that.”

“I’m… You didn’t ha–”

You only get this far, because his lips steal your breath and halt your speech midway. His hand cradles your face, the other arm slinging around your body. The grip holds you tight against him, the heels of your feet almost lifting off the floor.

The kiss won’t stop. Continues deeper. You’re careful to not crumple and crease the cards he gave you, but still wrap your arms around his neck, pushing harder into him. And the tongue… Fuck, this tongue…

When he moves back reluctantly to catch air, he’s panting; and your breath falls against his cheeks just as hot. Your lips are damp, craving more, and you draw closer, trying to feel all of him. The muscles, the embrace, the growing pleasure behind his pants and…

But he lets go, leaves you standing and dizzy. With a wink, he lightly pinches your cheek, thumb brushing against it and suggests, “I’ll head off to freshen up.”

But. No.

You’re not ready to let the moment slip away, no matter how tired you are. So you pull him back again, a playful twinkle in your eyes as you quietly utter a request.

“Don’t take it off just yet.” You say, seeing the way his eyes light up. He understands right away. “Clean up together?”

He smiles. Waits with his answer, busy gripping your wrist as gently as he can before he locks his fingers with yours. He starts pulling you into the direction of the bathroom at snail's pace, reaching to hold both your hands, walking backwards, and causes one last hour-long shiver for the night.

“I really do love every time we save up on water, you know?”

–

Let me know what you think!! Have a good Halloween, love you all and smooching you!!😘

[roseglazedlens]

Okay let's forget about all the agents Kennedy, alcohol and trauma in RC, Ada...ect,and turn to Leon s Kennedy as Your husband's policeman 36years is receiving a promotion to Chief Police Officer cuz I can't see my bbguy suffer more :(,you can add some nsfw if you want to

thank you for requesting lovely! i'm sorry i write so much angst hahhaha, but here is a change of pace! i've never written anything purely fluff (lol) and so many characters, so this is a challenge! i hope you enjoy!

⦑ take me home ⦒✶.*

pairing(s): leon kennedy x gn! reader synopsis: you throw a surprise party for your boyfriend's last day at work after his job promotion. content: pure fluff, established relationship, flirting, alcohol, leon is tipsy, but he's cute & not depressed ab it. claire, rebecca, jill & chris works in RPD. « 1 k words┇masterlist┇ao3┇reblogs appreciated! »

Today is an unusual sight for the usually hectic police department in Raccoon City. The office is adorned with balloons, garlands, and laughter, celebrating not just the promotion of a well-loved officer, Leon S. Kennedy, but also his farewell as he relocates to a new precinct.

You should be happy for your boyfriend – and you are – but part of you will miss watching over his figure from your desk, casting flirtatious grins back and forth in attempts to distract each other from the rigorous paperwork.

A banner suspends between the light fixtures, observing the lopsided words ‘CONGRATULATIONS’, strings twisted into the knot. The culprit of this handiwork, Chris, puffs out his chest proudly, while Rebecca looks at him in disbelief.

“Chris, leave the decorations to Rebecca, please.” You break apart the squabble forming between them. Rebecca smirks as Chris descends the ladder, defeated. “Don’t forget everyone, this is supposed to be a surprise.”

“Claire, where is the card?” You interrogate the next person in your line of sight, who happens to be Claire. All whilst you signal Rebecca to tilt the banner slightly upwards. “Has everyone signed?”

“Yep. It’s just you left.” She hands over the card, before resuming to the case files on her computer.

The card scrawls with heartfelt blessings from your team, a lot of ‘good lucks’, ‘we’ll miss you’, and nostalgia when he was just a rookie. He worked hard for ten years to be a sergeant, and you know he deserves this.

You pick up your pen – contemplating the words to express how amazing he is, how you will love him forever, how you will miss the sneaky make-out sessions in the work janitor’s closet.

…Marvin will be so proud of you. Yours, ....

The vibration in your pocket cuts you off mid-sentence – Jill. She is supposed to be on the case with Leon for another thirty minutes. You read the text out loud.

“I can't hold him back much longer, we're on our way. ETA in five minutes!!”

The floor scrambles in panic to finalise their positions. Rebecca quickly secures the banner with some tape. Claire is passing party poppers. Chris is putting away the ladder to the storeroom.

As Jill enters the space with Leon following behind, all the confetti releases at once.

The rainbow plastic ribbons catching in his hair like stardust in sand. You catch a glimpse of surprise in his reaction, following with a light on the corner of his lips.

“To Leon!” your team lifts their glasses high in the air, sipping beers and cocktails all night. Leon is the star tonight – you can barely talk to him without two other people buying him drinks all night along.

You catch him a whole two hours later in the circle booth, after some of the crowd has dispersed, his cheeks redden from the many drinks consumed all in a few hours. You squeeze yourself through three different people to sit yourself next to Leon.

“Having fun?” You try to get his attention by nudging at his forearm. “Don’t get too drunk though, I have to take you home.”

Leon lifts his gaze, when he sees you right by him, a grin tug at his face almost immediately. His cerulean eyes somehow more glazy than usual.

“Thank you for doing all of this. You are so good for me.” Despite the scent of beer merging with his breath, the grin on his face remains childlike. One that you only see in his drunkenness, which he lets down his guard to show more of his emotional side.

“Everyone helped. Not just me.” You are thinking how cute Leon looks when he’s drunk. “You are well-loved in here. I’m just the facilitator.”

“How about you work for me?” Leon brings the back of your palm to his lips. “I can pull some strings, now that I’m sergeant.”

“Sergeant Kennedy, using your influence for personal goals? It’s not even your first day.” You quip with a slight chuckle.

“And what if I am?” He peppers kisses from your palm to your fingers, the faint heat from his lips sizzle through your nerves. “Sure you’ll enjoy less time on the field, and more time in my office.”

“Well, if that’s the case.” You decide to let this banter go on a little further. “I expect to be well-compensated for my extra duties.”

“That will depend on your performance.” He raises a sassy eyebrow, pulling you closer until your noses touch.

“Good thing I always hit my KPI’s.”

“I do like a hardworking employee…”

Eyes fluttering shut slowly, you smile into the kiss. His lips lay gently on yours, sucking slightly at your cupid’s bow. Your bodies move closer, so close that you rests your hand on Leon’s thigh for support. The kiss deepens further, sloppier, tongues intertwined until…

“Ahem.” Chris clears his throat loudly, snapping you back to the present.

You open your eyes to find the whole table staring at the two of you. Your gaze finds its way to Jill, which she immediately, most awkwardly, rolls her eyes to the ceiling as if there is something to see there. Claire is nonchalant, sipping her beer and simply enjoying the scene.

You retract the tongue that is still shoved in Leon’s mouth. A hint of pink is running up your cheeks, you don’t need to see it to feel it. Leon, however, is unphased by the attention from his coworkers. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, perhaps it’s knowing that he won’t be seeing these guys next Monday.

“So… next rounds on me. Who’s in?” Chris attempts to diffuse the awkwardness, which earns a few curt nods from the table.

Leon holds you by the hand, picking you up from the seat. “Sorry Chris, we’re gonna call it. It’s been a long night. Thanks for the party, everyone.”

You two shuffle past Chris and Jill out of the booth, after a round of hugs with everyone, you can practically feel Leon sprinting out the bar.

“How ‘bout we continue where we left off at my place?”

Your cheeks turn a deeper red. It seems like he will be the one to take you home tonight instead.

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. ––yours truly, rose. tags: @carlosgf @sporeghost (pm me for tags) © roseglazedlens - please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

Monsters in the Garden (Ettore x Reader) 18+

No one comes to your garden but you, not even Dr. Dibs. So what is the most dangerous man on the ship doing leaning against your doorway and watching you work?

Pairing: Ettore x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT SMUT; hand job; kissing; blood; mentions of rape, murder, and violence; female genital mutilation; vague mentions of corpse mutilation

Author's note: This was inspired by a session I had with the Ettore AI made by @harrenhalhottie (RIP). It was just so good I had to write it out for y'all. This Ettore is a little different from normal, but I can't help but look at a one-dimensional character and want more. Hope you enjoy, and let me know if you want a Part 2, because I have ideas...

This song also heavily influenced the vibe:

Taglist: @thelittleswanao3

Monsters in the Garden

You were on your knees, leaning over one of your raised garden beds when you noticed him leaning against the open doorway. He wasn’t quiet on his approach – he wanted you to know he was there.

Ettore was always there, in some dark corner, watching you.

By this point, you were almost used to the burning feeling that crawled beneath your skin whenever his eyes were on you.

In the right light, those eyes were a mesmerizing blue. The color reminded you of the sky back on Earth. If he hadn’t been so goddamn creepy, you might have been happy to stare into his eyes just to remember home, even briefly.

But he was easily the most unsettling person you’d ever met. Always leering at the other women on board – though in the past weeks, you had apparently become his one and only target– and using the Box proudly, far more than anyone else did.

It was no wonder why. You knew what he was.

Everyone on board was a killer, including you. But Ettore was the worst. The most dangerous of you all. For he was the only one who had… done worse than just kill his victims.

Murderer. Rapist. Monster.

Well, some would say what you had done was worse. But that was different. Your victim was already dead by the time you started your work on his corpse, and it had been more than deserved.

You did not let yourself linger on that. You never did these days. The further away from Earth you got, the more distant it seemed. The rage, the guilt, all of it.

Ettore wasn’t distant. He was mere feet away from you, intruding on your garden.

Not yours, not really. Because of your past – specifically, the degree in horticulture you were only one semester away from completing when you were arrested – you were assigned to look after the gardens instead of something more related to the actual mission of the ship like the rest of the crew.

Or more basic, in Ettore’s case. Dr. Dib’s called his assignment “ship maintenance,” but you all knew what he really was: the janitor.

But he never came in here. You made sure of it, keeping everything meticulously clean and fixing all your equipment yourself so no one – least of all Ettore – would ever have a reason to intrude on your space.

You didn’t even allow Tcherny, the other gardener, in here. He was fine with it. He preferred the vegetable and grains and left the medicinal plants – kept in their own room – to you. The only person beside you who ever came in here was Dr. Dibs, and she hadn’t been here in months. She didn’t like the dirt.

Yet there was Ettore, just staring at you.

His eyes weren’t that beautiful, bright blue you so rarely glimpsed. His chin was slightly tucked into his chest, his strong brow casting his eyes into darkness. His face was blank, unfeeling, and unmoving, save for those eyes.

They almost didn’t look human, but animal. Yes, that was the look of a predator. And it was directed at you.

You turned away from him to face the garden bed again, hoping he would lose interest if you didn’t engage. But if he didn’t, and he did try something…

Well, you had your spade next to you. It was probably sharp enough to dissuade him from doing anything you didn’t approve of.

So, you resumed your work, carefully tending to your poppies.

Once the lovely purple-pink petals that were just unfurling fell in a few days, you would harvest the sap from the seedpods so Dr. Dibs could synthesize more of the sedative the crew was forced to take each night. Only a handful, carefully selected by you, would be spared and allowed to produce the seeds that would become the next crop.

Though you hated playing a part in producing the drugs, the poppies were still your favorite plant. They were the only flowers you had left.

The garden was always your happy place, even on Earth, and you quickly found yourself concentrating not on Ettore or the sounds of the ship or even the ship itself. There was only you, the dirt, and your beloved plants.

So, when you finally stood and looked away from your work, you had entirely forgotten that Ettore stood there.

Still, he remained leaning against the doorframe, watching you. He hadn’t moved a fucking inch.

You jumped slightly at the unexpected sight, your hand flying to your racing heart.

While he did not flinch at the motion, Ettore’s brow raised slightly, and the corner of his mouth quirked up.

At least the hunger in his eyes had abated. Somewhat.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, love,” he crooned as he uncrossed his arms and took two steps forward.

God, you had never heard him speak before.

His voice wasn’t particularly deep, but it was low and smooth. His accent was like something out of those British action movies a boyfriend in high school loved to make you watch. Perhaps it was those memories – of either the boyfriend or the handsome actors, that made his voice sound almost alluring.

It had to be. It couldn’t be him.

You instinctively stepped back, raising your hands to try and communicate that you didn’t want him near you. Unfortunately, you forgot your spade on the ground, leaving your hands empty. Fortunately, your gloves were loose enough that he could not see the slight trembling in your fingers.

“I just…” you stammered. “I forgot you were there.”

He just stared at you impassively, those predatory eyes taking in every detail of your face, then traveling lower and lower.

Some of the hunger returned when his gaze landed on your breasts.

You had to shut that shit down.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, pouring all your contempt into your voice to mask the fear that still crept within your blood.

Ettore looked back at your eyes, the corner of his lip flicking up as though he was holding back a sneer. “Just passing through.”

You risked looking away from him to glance at your watch. It confirmed what you already knew. “You’ve been standing there for over an hour,” you informed him. One hour and eighteen minutes, to be exact. “Hardly what I’d call ‘passing through.’”

He raised his brows slightly, apparently surprised it had been that long. “Guess I lost track of time. Watching you is…” he turned his eyes, not to your body, but to the flower bed you had just been working in. When he looked back, he gave a sly smile. “Relaxing.”

Bullshit, you thought. But then you bit back the sharp tang of your own cynicism. Gardening was relaxing to you; it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility that he honestly found watching you relaxing as well. If it had been anyone but Ettore, you probably would have believed them without a moment of doubt.

But it was Ettore.

Murderer. Rapist. Monster.

You glared at him for a long moment, trying to communicate that you wouldn’t be fucked with – you wouldn’t be a victim. Then, when he still didn’t drop his gaze from yours, you took it as an acknowledgment of the threat and turned away from him.

You were at least half-expecting him to pounce on you then and there, but he didn’t. You didn’t hear a single sound as you walked to your workbench, situated on the opposite wall from the door, and took off your gloves.

“There’s nothing more to watch,” you said over your shoulder. Then, grabbing a clean rag from one of the drawers, you began wiping the dirt from your forearms – rinsing it off in the sink would risk a clog, which would mean a visit from maintenance and Ettore. “I’m done for the day.”

He didn’t reply, only grunted his acknowledgment. He never moved as you continued to wrap up your work – cleaning your tools, sweeping the dirt that had made its way out of the beds, and washing your hands. Still just watching you.

At least it confirmed that it wasn’t the gardening he found ‘relaxing.’

Finally, you discarded your rags in the laundry bin. It would need to be taken out soon – it was ready today, but you were already running later than you wanted. In just ten minutes, you had an ‘appointment’ with Dr. Dibs, and you didn’t want to make her angry. Again. Doing so has become kind of a bad habit of yours.

So, you turned to face Ettore, who continued to stare at you as you stepped within a few feet of him. He stood a little taller at your approach, puffing his chest out as that near-rabid hunger took over his eyes once more.

Your stomach fluttered, and you told yourself it was only because you were nervous about whatever Dibs planned to do to you tonight.

But then the corner of his mouth quirked up, and your heart sank at the realization that it was because you – or rather, your traitorous, repressed body – found Ettore attractive.

Murderer. Rapist. Monster.

He would be just your type if you didn’t know why he was here. You had never been able to resist a good jawline, and his could cut fucking glass. And as you took another step closer, his height became just as enticing. You always told people you only liked tall men so they could reach things for you. But really, you just loved the feeling of having a big, strong man to protect you.

No one had looked at you like you needed protection in years. No, you were now what people needed protection from.

“Though she be but little she is fierce,” the lawyer had said when convincing the jury to not be put off by your size. A fitting quote, since Shakespeare himself had inspired some of the more gruesome details of your crime.

And now, you couldn’t help but take another step forward, then another. All along, savoring how far back you had to tilt your head to look into those beautiful blue eyes.

God, as he tilted his chin back as well, the bright lights of the garden set them blazingly bright and the bluest you’d ever seen them. They were even better than the sky back home…

You forced yourself to look away when you felt heat begin to pool between your thighs. Instead, you stared over his shoulder to the hall, trying not to snap when you heard him laugh slightly at your movement. Was the blush you felt visible?

“You’re in my way,” you said, your voice more of a whisper than you intended.

When his smirk faded, and his lips – very pretty lips, you realized – fell slightly open, you thought he would have some cutting remark. But he only stepped to the side to allow you through.

As you passed him, you were close enough to catch his scent. Everyone on the ship used the same soap, so how did he smell so different? Beneath the clinical smell you all carried, there was something deeper, more masculine.

You really needed to calm down before your appointment with Dibs. She knew you didn’t use the Box – not after that first time had failed to get you off, despite the engineering genius of the contraption – so seeing you this riled would lead to questions you didn’t want to answer.

Touching other inmates was against the rules. And even if this wasn’t touching… even thinking this way about another prisoner may incur her wrath.

So, you walked a more than respectable distance away from him before turning back. He was still half-in, half-out of the garden. But he wasn’t staring at you anymore, but rather at the poppies...

When was the last time he had seen a beautiful flower?

You glanced at your watch again. You barely had enough time to make it to the infirmary.

“I need to lock the door,” you said, drawing his gaze back to you.

His brow furrowed slightly as he glanced from you back to the door, then back to you again. He sucked his teeth as he looked at you in condescending disbelief. “You need to lock up flowers?”

“It’s protocol,” you answered. Perhaps your tone was a bit harsher than it needed to be, but you were both criminals - murderers. He could handle a little bitchiness. “And there’s more than just flowers in there.”

Ettore let out a laugh that was little more than a hard exhale, but the twinkle in those eyes told you that he was indeed amused. Then, crossing his arms, showing off the odd, triangular tattoo on his forearm, he stepped away from the door.

You would have to walk by him again to get to the door. Perhaps he was cleverer than you gave him credit for – if you had previously given him any credit at all.

If you weren’t so pressed for time, you might have stayed to tease him some more. This was surprisingly fun, even when you knew what he wanted from you and what he had done to get it from other women. You were just that bored.

And horny. You were very, very horny.

That would be what got you in trouble.

You scoffed, pushing past him to lock the door. It took all your effort to slip the key in as your fingers trembled at the feeling of him hovering over you, his breath hot on your neck as he stepped closer to you.

This shouldn’t make you horny. On the contrary, it should make you afraid. But still…

When the door finally locked, you spun around quickly, tucking the key between your fingers like a claw – something one of the college policemen once told you about.

But Ettore stepped back – once, twice. And then the was pressed against the wall opposite you. His stare was still hungry, and you could easily see how heavy his breathing had become, but he didn’t advance.

“I have to go,” you told him, unsure why you were doing it. It wasn’t like you needed his permission or even wanted it. “I have an appointment with Dibs.”

His eyes darkened then. Not with lust or animalistic hunger, but rage. It was almost… possessive?

It was gone as soon as it appeared, replaced by his usual empty stare. Still, you did not dare move, not after whatever it was you just saw.

“Can I…?” Ettore gritted his jaw and looked away, his hands balling into fists at his sides. You didn’t know if he was about to cry or kill you – and you didn’t know which would be worse. He still looked away from you as he continued, “Can I come here again tomorrow? Just to watch.”

You should immediately forbid it. It was wrong, it was a bad idea, and it was just fucking weird. But as the hour chimed on your watches, you realized you couldn’t leave when he looked so desperate, almost sad. And you definitely couldn’t say anything to make that horrible expression worse.

“Yeah,” you whispered. You turned as he looked back at you to shut off the alarm on your watch. Dr. Dibs would be pissed at you, of that, you were sure. At the moment, though, it didn’t seem to matter. Not when his eyes lit up again, not from any light, but with excitement. “If you have nothing better to do, I guess that’s fine.”

The corners of Ettore’s lips quirked up like he would smile, but he quickly corrected it and set his mouth in a straight line. He didn’t want you to know just how excited he was, but you did anyways – he wasn’t a great liar. Tipping his head in an attempt at indifference, he sniffed before speaking. “Yeah, wicked.”

You winced a little at his pathetic attempt to seem cool, but it faded quickly when your watch beeped again. This wasn’t an alarm or the chiming of the hour but a summons. If you didn’t obey it, you knew Dibs would happily use the stupid watch to deliver a steady stream of low-level electric shocks until you did.

She was just as much of a killer as the rest of you – worse than some, if the rumors were right. Why should she have such authority over the rest of you?

It was pointless to question it, and even the beginnings of the line of thought had ruined your mood. So much so that you didn’t say anything else to Ettore before turning away from him and stalking down the hall toward the infirmary.

After you had disappeared around the corner, Ettore took a deep breath, silently congratulating himself on handling that almost like a real person would. Then, he turned in the opposite direction as you. He was due to clean the canteen before dinner. But fuck that. He needed the Box – now.

-

Dibs had been pissed. Not only that you were late to your appointment, but that you were so obviously turned on when you got there. It wasn’t like you could hide it, not when she immediately ordered you into the stirrups and got a front-row seat to your weeping and flushed cunt.

“Have you been using the Box?” she asked, that sickeningly sweet smile plastered across her face.

You pursed your lips, looking away. “No.”

Her smile faded, and her eye twitched. “And yet here you are, practically dripping.” She reached for something on her tray, but you couldn’t see what. You had a pretty good guess, anyway. “Well, at least it makes my job easier.”

It had been anything but fucking ‘easy,’ you thought as you cradled your aching abdomen. Under the pretense that you were already wet enough, she had shoved her speculum into you hard and fast – and without lube.

If you thought her tests and procedures had been uncomfortable before… they were downright torturous yesterday. Especially since she conveniently ‘forgot’ to give you any numbing agents or sedatives. And definitely no painkillers.

Not even the sedative you were served with dinner had helped. For the first time since you boarded this godforsaken ship, you hadn’t slept.

Thankfully, you had little work to do in the garden besides waiting for the poppies to drop their petals. But you didn’t want to just wallow in your pain, so you decided to sit at the edge of the bed where your little willow tree resided.

It wasn’t growing very fast, likely because it didn’t have the room it needed or deserved. Still, you were happy with the progress it had made. When the ship first took off, it was little more than a bonsai. Now, it stood a good eight feet tall – the only plant you needed your step stool to tend.

In truth, it didn’t need much tending. Trees never do unless they are very young or something is wrong. But sitting next to it, examining the patterns in its long leaves and tracing lines up its trunk, was spectacularly soothing.

You had never considered harvesting anything from it. Not yet. It was too little still, and you didn’t want to risk damaging it permanently since you couldn’t simply order a new start. But as another pulse of pain surged through your stomach, you found yourself reaching for a lower branch.

All you needed was a small twig to chew on. It was an ancient Egyptian remedy, one that eventually led to the invention of Aspirin. And even if the sedative didn’t help, perhaps something more natural, something you had grown yourself, would.

You had just wrapped a hand around the branch when you felt a large hand close around your shoulder.

Instinct kicked in, and you whirled around, freeing yourself from your attacker’s grasp. Without processing who it was, you threw your arms out, shoving with all your might. “Get the fuck away from me!”

You only recognized Ettore after you had backed into the wall. He had also fallen on his ass and crawled backward on the floor – apparently, you were stronger than you thought. Any amusement at the fact died when you saw the anger burning in those eyes.

It was entirely possible that you just really fucked up.

But your adrenaline, from the pain and the scare he had just given you, was racing too hot and fast to let you consider that possibility.

“What are you doing?” you spat. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Ettore’s face grew even more furious, if that was even possible. His eyes burned as bright as any fire you had ever seen. It was beautiful and deadly. “You fucking… you said I could come watch you!”

Damn it, you did say that.

But it was before Dr. Dibs had been such a cunt.

And she had only done it because he got you horned up like you were a pathetic high schooler.

“Well, now I changed my fucking mind!” you shouted. If you could stand, you would have. Towering over him and just screaming your heart out would feel so good. But you hurt too much to even entertain the thought. “I don’t want you here – I don’t want you!”

Ettore shattered.

You watched it happen as your venomous words left your lips.

His face fell, his eyes began to water, and even his tattoos seemed to go dull.

At that moment, he was not Ettore, the murderer, rapist, and monster.

He was just a boy – the both of you were barely more than teenagers when you left Earth – and he was broken.

You broke him.

You looked on in horror as his trembling lips set into a hard line that echoed in his harsh brow, and the tears in his beautiful eyes faded to reveal a primal rage that chilled your blood.

There he was.

Murderer. Rapist. Monster.

Ettore stood slowly, like a tiger rising from its crouch upon realizing its prey has no escape – that it could play.

But then he looked away from you, sniffed, and moved for the door.

His leaving without doing anything to you should have made you feel overwhelming relief, but it did not. Instead, a great yawning pit of guilt and regret opened in your chest, hurting nearly as much as your wounded core.

You tried to call out to him, take your words back, and apologize, but all that came out was a short yelp of pain. This time, it was accompanied by wetness between your legs – and not the pleasant kind.

As you folded over, burying your face in your knees as you pulled them into your chest, Ettore paused halfway out the door.

He’d heard noises like that before. From other women in pain – pain that he caused. His lip twitched, and his head tilted out of his control, the movement more animal than human.

You were helpless and apparently wounded. This was his chance.

But as he turned to face you, he caught sight of the poppies you so lovingly tended to the day before. With the memory of your soft smile as you cupped a particularly pretty bloom, one that was a deeper pink than the others, he was able to pull back on the reins of that instinct.

Just slightly, but just enough.

“You hurt?” he asked, his voice strained.

You nodded into your legs and lifted your head without meeting his eyes. “I think… I think I’m bleeding.”

Ettore was frozen, his hands flexing, relaxing, and balling into fists as he tried to keep hold of those inner reins. If he was smart, he would leave. Go straight to the Box and fuck himself until this hateful urge was gone. If he was a good person, he would offer his help.

He was not smart. And he was most definitely not a good person.

But something about you and those goddamned poppies woke what little was left of his humanity and made him want to try.

So, he just stood there, staring at your helpless form as he fought a vicious war inside himself.

You watched him. Watched as his eyes flicked over every inch of your body with dizzying speed, as various parts of his body twitched and flexed. You’d never seen anything like it before, except…

The vague memory of a play you went to on a middle school field trip reemerges. Your whole grade was reading Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and it just happened to coincide with the local community theater’s production of the play.

It wasn’t a good play. Even at twelve, you could tell it was objectively bad. But the man who played Jekyll and Hyde was decent (one of your classmates told you he was their pediatrician), mainly when he performed the ‘transformation.’ You hadn’t been able to look away as he contorted; every movement was desperate, halting, and frantic.

Not unlike how Ettore moved as he watched you.

When he came out of the fog that had settled over his eyes, which Ettore would you get? Did he even have a Jekyll to his Hyde?

You knew you should take the opportunity of his distraction to run. The infirmary would be best, but it would mean seeing Dr. Dibs again. You had no desire to admit that you needed her help. The showers were also an option, but it would allow others to see you in a weakened state. You didn’t want to admit weakness. Besides, Dibs would hear about that as well.

So, even though you knew it was stupid, you decided to take the biggest risk of them all.

“Ettore…?” You called his name softly, unsure of the pronunciation. Whether it was right or wrong, he didn’t seem to mind. He locked eyes with you, and his nostril flared as though he really was a predator and could smell the blood you were now confident was leaking from you. “I need your help.”

His eyes widened slightly, and he looked like he would run from you. But beyond another twitch of his head, he did not move.

“Please?” you begged. You felt pathetic, but you kind of were, so you tried not to let it bother you too much. “I don’t think I can stand on my own.”

Ettore’s brows furrowed at that, and his lips went from a near-sneer to a determined frown. Then, with a lumbering gait, he approached you in only a few steps, holding a hand out in front of him for you to take.

You stared at his hand for a moment, admiring the elegant length of his fingers. And then you realized: he was shaking.

It was subtle, but it was there.

Tilting your head, you looked up at his face. Apart from the slight widening of his eyes, it was again set in passivity. But what was more peculiar than his trembling or his expression was the fact that he was steadfastly refusing to look at you.

Indeed, those blue eyes were set on the softly swaying leaves of your willow, tracking their movement like the tree would attack him if he looked away.

You were so used to his eyes on you. Was it wrong that you wanted it back?

Before you could ponder the answer, you raised an arm to take his hand. He squeezed your fingers painfully as he helped you onto your feet.

The pain surged again as you stood, causing your knees to buckle the second Ettore let go of your hand. You stumbled, falling against his chest.

It was no more than instinct that had him wrapping his long arms around your shoulders and waist to catch you. An instinct that his brain was yelling at him to abandon you and let you fall.

It was too dangerous to touch you, to feel your soft skin as his hand accidentally slipped into the side of your overalls – why the fuck were the sides so low when your shirt was so short?

At the sensation of your hot breath against the sensitive skin of his neck, he let out an involuntary groan as he tightened his grip on you.

He had to get away. Now. As fast as possible. He didn’t want to hurt you. He really didn’t. But his blood was singing with desire, more intoxicating than any liquor or drug. Keeping his fingers from digging into your flesh possessively was almost painful, and he was so, so hard.

The reins were slipping…

You felt it, his hard length pressed into your stomach as you brought your hands to his chest to steady yourself.

You should push him away again. Slap him. Yell at him. Kick him as hard as you could right on that hard, impressively long length.

But you did none of it.

“I need to get to my worktable,” you whispered, “there’s a medkit there. And…”

You looked into his eyes, watching them dilate even further as you finished your request. “I’ll need help getting out of my overalls.”

That blue you were so entranced by was all but gone. Ettore looked like a man possessed, his breathing heavy and heaving as he lowered his chin to look into your eyes.

There was no way he heard you correctly. You knew what he was, what he had done. And you were smart, so much smarter than him. Far too smart to ever ask someone like him to take off your clothes. Even if it were to help you with an injury – an injury he still couldn’t see.

But then your eyes squeezed shut, and you fell forward to bury your face in his shoulder as you moaned in pain.

And then…

Then your right hand moved up his chest to wrap around his neck. Not to choke or hurt, but just to hold.

He expected your hands to be rough from working in the garden all day, but they weren’t. No, your fingers were unfairly, unbearably soft as they swept across his bare skin, coming to rest against the tattoo on the side of his neck.

When was the last time anyone touched him like this – tenderly and without fear? It had been years, even before he was put on this doomed ship.

Ettore almost came just from that simple touch.

More intense than even the extraordinary pleasure was the feeling of near calm that washed over him. It soothed the pain he felt in every muscle and quieted the violent, primal urges roaring within his chest. They weren’t gone, but they were further away.

It made it easier to take the reins.

“The worktable…” he breathed as his grip on you relaxed slightly. He still held you firm enough to keep you standing, but you no longer worried you would bruise.

You pulled away slightly, noting the way he whimpered and winced like a scolded puppy as you slowly removed your hand from around his neck. “Yes.”

He nodded frantically, sniffing and taking a few deep breaths. As if he needed to prepare himself for the short walk to the table. Then, moving with a slowness that suggested the motion took all his concentration, he lowered his arm from your shoulders.

When Ettore turned to the worktable, even with his other arm still around your waist, you felt a rush of unwelcome cold. Even when you were still clothed and the garden was kept at a balmy temperature.

He walked slowly. Perhaps you would have thought it was out of concern for you and your pain, but you knew by now that this was hard for him.

Indeed, when he pulled away after you were leaned against the table, a faint sheen of sweat had broken out across his brow. His breathing was still rapid, and his eyes were glassy, as if he were several shots in.

“Ettore?” When he met your eyes again, you looked down at the buttons on your shoulders holding your overalls up. He followed your gaze and made a choking sound when he realized what you meant. “If I let go of the table, I think I’ll fall.”

It wasn’t just his hands shaking now, but all of him. So much so that you couldn’t tell whether he was nodding or just shaking that badly.

Either way, he reached for the first button on your left shoulder. It took him a few tries, but he got it done. The strap fell, and one side of the overalls slumped, revealing the tight white shirt beneath that left very little to the imagination.

Ettore growled.

What the fuck? Humans don’t growl. At least, you had never heard it.

And yet he did.

A flicker of fear started in your chest, and you chose to focus on that rather than the bloom of something else lower within you.

He began to reach a hand, tense and shaking, towards your breast. But inches away, you caught his wrist. You had to lean further against the table not to fall, but you weren’t letting go.

“The other button, please.” Though you spoke quietly, the command was clear.

You only released his arm when he looked into your eyes and confirmed with a twitch of his lip that he heard you. He clenched and unclenched his fist several times before finally going for the other button.

It took him even longer to get this one undone. But at least he didn’t growl again when the other half of the overall’s torso fell limp around your waist. His eyes did linger on your breasts, but you let it happen.

You had great tits. And he deserved a little reward for helping you, didn’t he?

So, you let him have a few seconds to just stare. As long as he didn’t try to touch again. Because you didn’t want that, right?

Ettore’s gaze fell further, to where the overalls were just barely hanging onto your waist. You said you were bleeding, but he still hadn’t seen it. So just where was your injury?

His cock twitched, and he was sure you could see it through the thin scrub pants he was forced to wear as he realized what would happen next. “You need ‘em all the way off, eh?” He hated how weak and shaky his voice sounded, but he supposed it was better than growling. You hadn’t reacted well to that. “Do you need me to…?”

“Yeah,” you affirmed. Of course, you knew you should say something about burying your spade in his chest if he tried anything. But the fact that he was asking, rather than just ripping the garment off, made you feel almost safe in having him do this. Almost.

You would feel even better about it if you couldn’t see his dick straining against his pants and twitching almost as much as he was.

C'est la vie, you supposed. Though that probably applied more to something trivial, like your school’s football team losing a game they should have won, than you being forced to ask a serial rapist and murderer to take off your pants. But close enough.

You shivered when he lowered his hands to your waist, causing him to pull back slightly. “It’s fine,” you assured him. “Keep going. I’m fine.”

Ettore nodded and fixed his eyes on the bottom drawer of the table as he took the thin fabric of the overalls between his fingers and started pulling them down. Really, he could have just nudged them, and they would have fallen to the floor. But he kept them in his grip as he lowered himself into a kneeling position.

He never once looked at you. Not at your ankles, or your legs, or the apex of your thighs – which were covered with more blood than you expected.

Damn it.

You considered what to do next as Ettore remained on the floor, carefully slipping the overalls over your feet. A difficult task when he refused to look at what he was doing.

By the time he finished, and you felt very much like Donald Duck – shirt, shoes, but no pants – you knew what you had to ask.

It was the stupidest thing you’d ever done.

“As long as you’re down there,” you said, your joking tone flatter than you intended, “the medkit’s in the drawer just to your left. Can you grab it and… and help me onto the table?”

Ettore didn’t reply but yanked the drawer open and grabbed the medkit. After tossing it on the table, he rose. Then, still not looking at you, he wrapped his arms around you again – one around your waist, the other around your upper thighs – and lifted you onto the table.

God, you felt so good in his arms. You were the perfect size, like you were made for him to hold. Warm and soft and… wet?

His eyes shot to the arm that had been wrapped around your legs. And both of you looked on in horror as you realized it was now covered in blood – your blood.

For the first time, you saw a look of disgust come over Ettore’s face.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, voice breaking as tears of embarrassment began to fall. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry!”

But he didn’t say anything. Instead, Ettore simply stalked over to the utility sink a few feet from the worktable and slammed the faucet on. He didn’t wait for the water to heat before shoving his arm under it.

You watched in humiliation, fumbling to lower your panties as he grabbed the soap and began to scrub. “I’m so sorry,” you said again, ripping open the medkit to find a packet of gauze you could press between your legs. “Ettore, I’m so sorry!”

He shook his head as he scrubbed harder and harder, until his skin burned from more than the searingly hot water. You were bleeding, you were hurt, and all he had been thinking about was how much he’d like to fuck you.

It had never stopped him before, not with any of the other girls. He had never minded having their blood on him. He savored it, actually. But it had been him who made them bleed. You…

“Who?” he growled, stilling his scrubbing but keeping the arm under the water. The burning distracted him from the desire to find someone to hurt. Because he needed to hurt someone. Badly. Preferably whoever did this to you, but he wasn’t picky.

You didn’t want to tell him, not when you recognized that look in his eyes. It meant violence – retribution. You had seen that same look in your eyes when you watched the recap of your trial from your cell, and your lawyer was telling the jury, in excruciating detail, why you had killed your victim.

For a moment, you thought about trying to pass it off as you just being on your period. But he wouldn’t buy it. Not after what you’d already told him. Besides, all the women on the ship were synced, and your periods were still two weeks away.

Finally fed up with your silence, Ettore shut off the water and turned back to you, not bothering to dry his arms. He just prowled back to you, standing between your spread legs as he stared deep into your eyes without a glance at your mostly exposed cunt. You turned away, not wanting to face the darkness in his eyes, but he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him.

“Who?”

You bit your lip and fought to get free of his grip, but to no avail. Knowing then that it was hopeless, you locked eyes with him again as you said simply, “Dibs.”

He growled again, not with hunger, but with rage.

And then he turned away.

He would hurt her, you realized. He would kill her.

You weren’t opposed to the idea, but you were opposed to what would come next. What the other prisoners would do to Ettore afterward. And perhaps you as well, since he would do it for you.

Before you knew it, your hand had shot out to grab his shirt, and he froze.

“Don’t,” you pled. When you tugged on his shirt to draw him back to you, he only resisted for a moment before coming back toward you. “It was just her punishment. I’ll be fine. She wouldn’t… damage me permanently. She needs me intact for her experiments. I promise, she was just being a cunt.”

Ettore cocked his head and pursed his lips like he would argue, but you couldn’t have that. So, you lifted the gauze from between your legs to show him how the blood flow had already stemmed somewhat.

“See? It’s already getting better.” But your weak, reassuring smile fell when you realized what you had just done.

He realized at the same time, and he could not stop his eyes from dropping to what you just made visible to him.

His erection had begun to flag while he cleaned your blood from his arm, but there was no stopping it now. Not when he had a full view of what he had been dreaming of for weeks.

Just like the rest of you, your pussy was so pretty. He wanted to kiss it, stroke it, fuck it. His blood hummed with the desire, and he barely stopped himself from diving forward. He closed his fingers around yours where they bunched the front of his shirt. The feeling of your skin against his was his salvation, an anchor to his humanity.

Not you, he told himself.

Not you, who didn’t look at him in fear or disgust. At least, not entirely.

Not you, the only person since his mother died to touch him with anything other than aggression.

Not you, who had trusted him, even knowing what he was.

Murderer. Rapist. Monster.

“Please.” His plea was hardly more than a breath. Pathetic. “Please, let me go.”

For even with your touch, he was losing his grip on the reins. If he stayed here one second longer, he would do something he really didn’t want to do. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

You could see how much danger you were in, but you did not let go. No, you tightened your grip on his shirt, pulling him closer and closer until your forehead rested against his.

Finally, you could look into those eyes and remember the sky back home as you had wanted to for so long.

But the sky wasn’t enough.

You wanted him.

You knew you couldn’t have him fully, couldn’t do what you really wanted. Not when you were injured like this.

Still, you brought your other hand to his chest, feeling him shiver as your fingers traveled lower and lower. Finally, you rest your palm against his length through his scrubs, feeling a sense of satisfaction when his hips cant slightly forward into your grip.

He didn’t have to say anything for you to know he wanted this as much as you do. But, of course, he did. When was the last time a woman touched him there, let alone willingly? The thought should have disgusted you, but it didn’t.

Perhaps you were just as much of a monster as he was,

“Dibs will punish us if she finds out we did this,” you whispered, your lips mere inches away from his. “But I don’t really care, do you?”

Ettore shook his head, his eyes burning like the fires of hell, where you both belonged. He was so close to breaking, losing himself, losing control. He was little more than an animal following the primal instinct to mate.

But letting you take control – and you were undoubtedly in control now – made it easier. For once, it wasn’t him who had to pull back on the reins. Not when he gave them to you.

He nodded vigorously. He wanted you. He didn’t care that he didn’t deserve it. And he didn’t care that you were probably just as monstrous as he was. He just wanted you.

You smiled, pressing a single kiss to the corner of his lips before sliding your hand past the waistbands of his scrubs and boxers and taking hold of him.

He immediately let out a pitiful cry as his stomach tightened, and he had to concentrate so hard not to come before you had even begun to move your hand. It was only made worse when you giggled at his struggle. The sound was sweet and light and utterly infuriating.

Needing to shut you up, Ettore brought his hands back around your waist as he tugged you to the table’s edge. He leaned forward to kiss you, but you pushed against him, holding him back. Then, tensing, he grunted, a low, throaty sound and a begging.

“I know,” you whispered, mock sympathy barely disguising your amusement. “I know what you want. Believe me, I want it to.” You laughed again as you began to pump him slowly, collecting the precum on his tip with every stroke to ease your movements. “You can kiss me another time. Right now, I just want to look at you. Is that okay?”

His hands tensed around your waist, and for a few seconds, he looked like he would let that animal loose and lunge at you. Like he would kiss you with all the pent-up frustrations of an entire life spent unwanted.

But he stopped, looking from where your hand disappeared below his pants to your eyes. And he nodded. Not a small, weak movement, but a firm, final motion.

He would allow it.

He would allow you to do whatever you wanted.

You smiled broadly, and again, he had to hold back his release. He wanted this to last forever.

At last, you released Ettore’s shirt from where you had bunched it with your offhand, raising it to his neck. You traced each line of his maze-like tattoo as you sped your movements, savoring each wince and whine he let out. Cataloging each reaction to figure out, without him having to say a word, exactly what he liked best.

And what you liked best. You were particularly fond of how his eyes would squeeze shut, and his mouth would fall open each time you grazed your thumb over his leaking head, following a short trail up and down his slit.

It was such a mesmerizing sight that you brought your hand up from his neck to touch his face. Every movement of one hand was echoed by the other as you explored each feature.

The severe line of his jaw. His large chin. The sharp cheekbones and flat brow. His long, elegant nose. The pink plush of his lips, from which he let out such tantalizing moans and whimpers.

Once you had taken in every inch of his face, you cupped his jaw in your left hand to feel it work as you sped the ministrations of your right hand. His eyes squeezed even further shut, and he grunted like an animal. But you didn’t stop. You only went faster and faster.

“Are you nearly finished?” you asked teasingly.

Ettore cracked open his eyes, looking from your taunting smile to your hand, working him so skillfully, then back to you. He moaned almost inaudibly, and that animalistic hunger returned to his eyes. He had been locked in a cage for too long, and now you had set him free.

“Yes,” he moaned, almost too quiet to hear.

You brought your thumb to rest against his lower lip, smiling at the feeling of his increasingly frantic breath against her.

For so long, you had feared this man. And now he was reduced to putty in your hands.

With a mischievous twinkle in your eyes, you pressed your thumb further into his lip and let your other hand slow, ignoring his protestations. “Before I let you finish,” you said, your voice tauntingly innocent, “I need you to answer a question for me. Can you do that?”

Ettore’s body jerked wildly as he desperately tried to regain some of the friction you had just deprived him of, but his eyes stayed locked on yours.

He knew he would do anything you asked him to then.

If you asked him to jump? He’d ask how high.

If you demanded he get down on his knees and beg? He’d do so happily.

If you told him to throw himself out of the airlock? He wouldn’t hesitate.

Compared to what he would do, what you actually asked of him seemed so simple.

“Fine…” he gasps, tightening his grip on your waist as though you would pull away. “What is it?”

You smirked, savoring that dark look in his eyes. How could you ever have been scared of it?

Then you squeezed his pulsing cock, just past the point of pleasure, to emphasize the power you held over him.

And, of course, he loved it. Groaning as his head toppled over into your shoulder. You carded your hand through his short hair as you whispered in his ear, “What feels better, my hand or the Box?”

Any pain, any embarrassment at being so pathetically at your beck and call, or any emotion other than his desire for you faded at the question. All that mattered was you and your perfect touch.

It felt wonderful even when you tugged on his hair quite hard to make him face you again. The answer was written on his face, in every piece of the complete, utter joy he felt in every inch of him, but especially where your skin met his.

“You,” he said, the word like a prayer. “You.”

Your responding smile was wicked, and you almost went back on your promise not to kiss him. But you resisted and began pumping his cock at a breakneck pace, brushing each sweet spot with every stroke and letting your pinky graze against his balls each time you came to his base.

It takes every ounce of what little restraint Ettore had to not scream at the overwhelming bliss. It was so much, too much. It was everything.

But what finally pushed him over the edge was you leaning in again to whisper against his cheek, “Just wait until you feel my cunt, Ettore.”

There was a sharp gasp, a guttural cry, a whimper, and a grunt, and then he was spent. Thank God his boxers were thick, or there would have been a very obvious stain at the front of his scrubs.

Ettore whimpered again as he looked into your eyes again, unsure what this meant or what would happen next. He was so drunk on his release that words failed him, or else he no doubt would have said something stupid and ruined his chances of actually getting to experience what you had promised just before he came.

You removed your right hand from his pants, wrapping it around his neck like the left, soothingly stroking the peach fuzz at the base of his skull as he came down from his high.

There was a new look in those blue eyes. Not hungry, not animalistic. Not angry or predatory. No, it was almost reverent.

Who would have ever thought that Ettore, the murderer, rapist, and monster, was capable of a look like that?

You parted your lips and leaned ever so slightly into him. “Thank you,” you whispered against his lips. “For letting me just watch. I think… after giving me that, you deserve a treat, don’t you?”

Ettore didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He couldn’t. He could only stare at you as pleading vulnerability crept over his face. The look of a puppy begging for a treat.

Then, he nodded, his only pleading answer.

You ran a hand through his hair again, making him wait just a moment more. “Kiss me, Ettore.” His eyes went wide at the command. “Kiss me the way you really want to.”

His throat bobbed, and he nodded again, still holding your gaze. Then, before you could even take a breath, he pounced.

Ettore’s lips were hot on yours as he kissed you deeper and more passionately than you’d ever been kissed before. It took only a moment before it felt like your souls were melding together for how close he held you. He did not relent until you were both struggling for breath.

Even then, he kept his lips pressed against yours as though he wasn’t quite ready to let you go.

“Thank you,” he said softly, the sound sending tingles up your spine.

You just sat there, smiling against him for a moment, wishing you could have taken him inside you. Perhaps you were fine now, and if he could get hard again, you could…

But then your watches both beeped the hour. He’d been there an hour. Someone was bound to notice he wasn’t scrubbing the halls soon.

So, you reluctantly pushed him away, heart clenching as he weakly fought to hang on to you. “I want to come back,” he whined.

You didn’t reply as you dressed again, your pain mostly gone, and pulled a clean rag out of another worktable drawer for him to clean himself. As you went to shut the drawer, an idea sparked in your mind. You grabbed another rag and ran to the sink, bunching the cloth as you moved.

Ettore looked on in confusion as you shoved the rag down and down into the drain until you couldn’t reach it anymore. But then realization set in, and he grinned wickedly.

You turned to him and returned the smile. “I think I may need to call maintenance tomorrow.”

[oneforthemunny]

A song that reminds you of each of your Eddie's + reader- and GO!

ooh wait this is a fun one. ok i had to think about this one but i think i've found them:

boxer!eddie and reader remind me of somethin' stupid by frank sinatra and nancy sinatra. two little black cats in love, and the chorus "and have a drink or two, and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, "i love you". i can see it in your eyes that you despise the same old lies you heard the night before. and though it's just a line to you, for me it's true and never seemed so right before."

rockstar!eddie and nepobaby!reader will forever remind me of faithfully by journey. i mean, "and lovin' a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be. oh, girl, you stand by me. circus life under the big-top world. we all need the clowns to make us smile. through space and time, always another show. wonderin' where I am lost without you. i'm forever yours, faithfully."

this one is going to be so fucking corny and idgaf!!! but for modern!eddie and mean girl, idk why true love by p!nk always comes to mind. "at the same time, i wanna hug you, i wanna wrap my hands around your neck. you're the only love i've ever known. but i hate you, i really hate you, so much i think it must be true love. just once try to wrap your little brain around my feelings, just once please try no to be so mean."

cowboy!eddie and sweet girl have always and will forever remind me of love is like a butterfly by the one and mother fucking only dolly parton our lord and savior. "love makes your heart feel strange inside, it flutters like soft wings in flight. love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing. i feel it when you kiss me, it happens when you're with me, that rare and gentle feelin' that i feel inside. everyday is springtime, and i am only happy when you are by my side." tbh i could quote the whole goddam song.

bouncer!eddie and bartender!reader this is another corny as fuck on so hold on, but it's you shook me all night long by acdc lmaooo. sexual chemistry through the roof, so much that it's shocking and appalling?? "she was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean. she was the best damn woman that I ever seen. she's one of a kind, she's just mine, all mine." idk it's silly and slutty and fun just like them!

for janitor!eddie and teacher!reader i've always felt like forever by the beach boys is their song. super sappy and romantic and devoted and that's how they are to each other <3 "if every word i said could make you laugh, i'd talk forever. i asked the sky just what we had, it shone forever. let the love i have for you, live in your heart and be forever. forever, i've been so happy loving you."

older!eddie and reader, this one was hard bc i felt like there was so many to chose from, but ultimately i went with the one song that always takes me back to them and that's chemtrails over the country club by lana. the more i listen, the more it's their song bc "go to the market, the kids' swimming pools. me and my sister just playing it cool, under the chemtrails over the country club. meet you for coffee at the elementary schools. we laugh about nothing as the summer gets cool. it's beautiful how this deep normality settles down over me. i'm not bored or unhappy, i'm still so strange and wild. washing my hair, doing the laundry. late-night tv, i want you only. it's never too late, baby, so don't give up."domestic and sweet.

this is also so silly and sweet and the best thing ever but for hockey!eddie and reader i fucking love the song hello, hello by elton john (yes from gnomeo and juliet lmaoooo). "never gonna find anything to change my mind, famous last lines of a fool. hello, hello. my, my, my, what have we here? sniffing all the flowers, running through an autumn shower, compare it to someone else like me." so fucking silly and so romantic like it's them. happy and silly and in love.

and i know you guys are making fun of me and i don't give one fuck bc i know you're about to do it again with this one bc it's coming completely out of left fucking field for these two!! for mafia!eddie and reader... babe i'm saying it, it's i see the light from tangled yes it fucking is. "all that time never even knowing, just how blind i've been. now i'm here, blinking in the starlight. and it's warm and real and bright, and the world has somehow shifted. all at once everything looks different, now that i see you. all those years living in a blur. if she's here, it's crystal clear, i'm where i'm meant to go." and listen, i could write a goddam essay on how this is them, both of them. living their lives before, thinking they're content, until they met the other and now they're confused how they were ever without the other. real ride or die shit.

for dom!eddie and sub!reader, i always think of i don't want to miss a thing by aerosmith lol. really bc they're a little chaotic but they really do love each other sm. true soulmate shit. "i could spend my life in this sweet surrender, where a moment with you is a moment i treasure. i don't wanna miss one smile, i don't wanna miss one kiss. i just wanna be with you, right her with you, just like this. and i just wanna hold you close, feel your heart so close to mine, and just stay here in this moment for all the rest of time." overly passionate and lovey and dramatic which is just their style.

[itsabouttimex2]

What your advice for people who is going to make Yandere lmk character ai or character ai in general? I have problem making lmk character to act like themselves😅

This is a very interesting question- and I’d like to preface it by saying there’s no “wrong” way to write a character! I’m happy to show you my personal methods, though!

(If you’re having trouble writing dialogue, the wiki has lists of quotes from all the characters! It been super helpful so far!)

Also, following requests and suggestions, I have very tentatively added a few bots to the “Limited” section on Janitor AI. If they do well and people are interested, I’ll add a few more.

You can chat with the Journeyfam, the Monkiefam, and the Bullfam!

As for making a bot…

The literal most important part of any bot is the Description. Here’s how one of mine looks:

{{user}} is, obviously, the user’s name! It’ll autocorrect to the name of your current persona, and if you aren’t using one, it’ll use your profile name instead. {{char}} is the bot itself!

So when I write:

-{{user}} sneezes-

-{{char}} worries and checks their forehead-

A similar chat will go like this-

The bot will draw on their descriptions more than anything else- but there’s a major drawback- of the 32000 characters accepted? The bot will only register the first 3200.

Which I certainly did not know before I wrote 18000 characters for this definition!

Also, though you’re meant to drop a short summary of your character’s personality in the Description box, there’s not much space to expand upon them.

So I find it useful to just place a longer, much more detailed summary in the Definition section.

Aside from these, the Greeting! The way you write this will do the heavy lifting in dialogue through the chat! If the Greeting has typos and poor punctuation, so will all the messages that come after it! If you write your actions in ellipses, the bot will follow through with that! Make sure to “start a new chat” every time you update a greeting so you can see if you missed something!

Also, if you’re using the mobile app? You’ll only be able to write 500 characters for the greeting. On the site (which you can access through your phone), it’s boosted to 2048- I find this much preferable.

Aside from that, it all comes down to writing!

Good luck with your bots!

[vshushmshu]

crumbs and other imaginary things

[@crystalmagpie447 remember this? well uh.]

another shift at the pizzaplex had you hunched over, with only your dutiful mop as your crutch in your moment of reprieve as you looked over the now freshly cleaned floors. no doubt they wouldn’t stay clean for long, what with all the children that always seemed to leave some sort of mess in their wake, but you still prided yourself on a job well done. you managed to actually move your legs after a few moments of simply standing there; lifting up the mop to place it in a bucket of now browned water, and stepped one foot in front of the other with said bucket in tow, all the way over to the nearest janitor’s closet. you were more general staff, really, assigned to do any odd jobs over the course of your shifts; that was a song and dance already played out, though, no doubt.

there was a remark under your breath about how nifty the wheels attached under the bucket were, how much more efficient it was to be able to roll it over to where you had to store it, considering the alternative of having to lug something of its weight all the way over with only your average amount of arm strength instead. management said not to worry about emptying the water anywhere, so you rolled it into the dim space and promptly closed the door without much thought. you mimed the action of wiping your hands clean of the deed, and laughed quietly to yourself when you noticed the familiar gesture. there was almost nobody here, except for if you counted the wet floor bots, and you liked to count them in.

in fact, just before exiting the area, you made sure to pat the one guarding your work on the top of its little head with a smile. it didn’t say anything, really couldn’t, other than a soft whirr and a mildly harrowing stare into the very fiber of your being, which you took as some sort of acknowledgment. a wave goodbye to the bot, and you set off to where you usually did when you had extra time before you legally had to clock out. it really was automatic at this point, but maybe you’d take a quick detour.

“FRIEND!! HELLO! HI!”

you grinned at sun’s overexcitement, something that never seemed to fade with every time you gave the attendant a “surprise” visit, waving back while he opened the door to the daycare wider for you, “BUDDY!! HI! HELLO!”

the both of you laughed at each other, sun jingling along with you as you walked over to the trash can by the security desk, throwing away plastic while scrubbing at your mouth with your hand to rid of any residue from the self-indulgent treat. the animatronic tilted their faceplate a few clicks to the left in curiosity, and made a noise of mild disgruntlement at such a heinously vile act, “sunshine, i really DO think it would be best to use, oh i don’t know, a napkin? tissue?”

a pointed raise of your eyebrow, fold of your arms across your chest, and you rolled your eyes at him, “oh, come on!! what happened to “how was your day, bestest buddy”?? “anything interesting happen, my dearest perfect angel that is so cool and also amazing”??? huh?”

he shook his head at your antics, hands reaching out to carefully dust away crumbs that might’ve still been clinging to your lips, “hmm.. okay then! how was your day, dearest? anything interesting happen?? do tell!!!”

when he was satisfied with the cleanliness of your face, he pulled their hands back with a tap to the corners of your lips and a spin of his rays, miming out wiping his hands clean of the deed. it was just a bit to play along to, but it still made you oh so happy, beaming up at him, “alright, alright, i’ll spill the beans-“

his faceplate clicked back to place, and a giggle, “what beans?”

a breath, “expression! figure of speech! not actual beans.”

if a plastic face had the ability to deadpan, he certainly would be using it at the moment, “we know, friend.. do go on. were those chips good? did you work hard while also making sure to take breaks?? any-”

you raised a hand, as if to halt the sunny personality’s train of worries by simply waving, and he did fall silent for a moment, “woah, okay, wait- how did you know i got chips?”

their fingers twitched, you caught from the corner of your eye, and his voice lilted while he shifted his weight from foot to foot, “crumbs!! you were chewing something crunchy, and we caught a glimpse of the bag. gotta say!! we thought you could do better with your selection of snacks.. those are infamous for being disappointing!!”

urges to hide yourself up in the jungle gym were repressed very heavily, “oh, come on! you’re gonna be weirdly observant and rip on my lackluster taste?? fake friends… the both of you!”

there was a moment of hesitation, a hushed chuckle like that of listening in to another’s word, then he pressed their hand to their chassis in dramatized dismay, “GASP!!! US?! FAKE FRIENDS??? sunshine, we could NEVER!! i only… speak the truth! is that so wrong??”

“…what if i said yes?”

the pair of you snickered at that. hands of metal and plastic and silicone cupped your cheeks once more, thumbs dabbing at the outline of your lips, and you hummed. must not have gotten all the crumbs after all. he gave you a littler smile, voice surprisingly quieter than what you were used to from the louder of the two, “i would throw you out a window! now, i’ve already said “do tell” twice now, so it’d be a little redundant to say it a third, wouldn’t it?”

you pretended to think, “huh… i guess it could be, but we wouldn’t be able to know for sure. how about you try it again and see-?”

the sun gave you its most unimpressed expression.

“ALRIGHT, alright!! pFFT- hAha, i’ll tell!!! okay, so…”

“… and then i had to clean that s- dookie!! that dookie up! not literally dookie, it came out the kid’s mouth, but uh… it sure could’ve passed from smell alone…..”

it was maybe ten minutes till you had to formally end your shift for the day, and you were somehow always surprised at how fast your extra time passed with the daycare attendant. you hadn’t spent the whole time talking about your experience through the day, as you could never remember things people asked of you to remember in the moment they did, so your ever-understanding friend had initially done a majority of the talking. describing the itinerary he had planned for the children today, how it all went mildly off-track and some improvisations had to be made, all while you helped clean up any stray toys or such still left skewed about the space. in the comfortable silence that followed, you blurted out pieces of your own activities until they finally formed the solid timeline of your day, if not broken up by a plushie-throwing battle momentarily.

the sun had set a half of the time through, though, and now you were in the company of the moon, who hummed along to your musings, “that’s disgusting. genuinely vile.”

there was no doubt a grimace painted across your features, and he seemed to laugh at the picture, “it really was! sucked. awful.”

he made some elaborate show of swimming through the air on his back, with only the cable hooked to their back piece, supporting their taunting frame, “sucks to suck, loser. you probably smell like it. take a shower, stink.”

you frowned up at him from where you walked along the hallway, sniffing at your clothes before letting your steps fall a little heavier, “shut up!! i was gonna anyways!”

the cord gave no audible indicator of the lunar dingdong gliding to hover over you with a playful grin, “stop stomping then, bozo. throwing tantrum. stinky stinker.”

“i am not!! you’re just being a jerk.”

you cringed, while moon’s smile only seemed to widen. you definitely sounded kind of whiny; you both knew that, so you switched it up with a drawn-out sigh, “ANYWAYS!! i’m gonna have to clock out soon, so don’t miss me too much while i’m gone, a’ight?”

you were steadily approaching the exit now, and the moon dragged itself along by the tether still for a quiet moment, before snorting with the barest trace of a crackle from their voicebox, “couldn’t care less.”

although, when standing in front of the shutters, he ruffled your hair a bit with a titter filled of mischief, then smoothed it back down to a poor imitation of how it looked before as he lowered himself to your standing when you complained lowly. you rolled your eyes at him, huffing, “wow, you guys really are fake…”

moon gave you a disgruntled mumble as a reply at first, before it raised to a decibel that was actually possible for humans to hear clearly, fingers wandering to trace spirals into your temple, “yeah, yeah- sooo unreal, this is all a dream. wake up. wake up. wake up. wake up.”

you breathed a laugh that went strictly against the bit, face twisted in an unwitting smile, “wake up? i would think you’d be telling me to sleep, instead. isn’t that kinda your whole thing?”

the bot fell silent for a moment, tracing out as many bumps and ridges and shapes he could of your face, like the imprinting of a memory as cool fingertips ghosted over the seam of your lips. it was a little strange, but it still relaxed the muscles in your face as he reached up slowly to brush away a fallen eyelash with a plastic knuckle, then seemed to regain his voice, “sleep. sleep. sleep. sleep. sleep.”

that finally made you cackle, and moon squeezed your cheeks lightly with eyes that wished to crinkle in mirth, letting their silicone palms slip from your jaw with a final couple of taps from thumbs to the edges of your mouth, “you’re such a weirdo, dude.”

this time he rolled his eyelights instead, the cord clipped to their back pulling taut as their smile seems a little less carved in, and he’s watching you from a bird’s eye view once more, “sure… uhuh.”

you fished out your keycard, still grinning as well, “you really are, i swear! gonna dip now, though. see you when i see you!!”

card swiped and shutters lifting, you waved to the moon as you stepped out, it reciprocating a reflection of the farewell for the night, “later, weirdo. stay safe.”

you shouted back an affirmation, and all you got in reply was the tinkling of bells.

you were glad they were salvageable.

well, you honestly were infinitely more grateful that they as a whole were salvageable. the bells were just a nice bonus. you flicked one tied to their wrist again, smiling a little to yourself.

at first the ribbons had been scorched of ash and blackened from fire, but you had cleaned and learned to stitch, so they now looked as good as new. maybe the two found peace in the fact as well, but you could never truly know what went on in their head at any given moment. only guesses, really. lots of guesses nowadays.

guesses such as who was sitting next to you at the moment. who? sun rays were out, nightcap pinned, staring at you. it was useless to have the television on, really as no one watched whatever was playing, but you still observed the light bouncing off the walls with a very real interest.

there was a painfully long stretch of silence, and though you didn’t have a clue as to whether they felt as uncomfortable as you did, you still struck up conversation. the animatronic seemed eager to listen to whatever it was you finally took a deep breath to say, eyes glued to your face as you sighed heavily, “uh, sun… moon..? are you okay?”

the static laced through their words was a lot more noticeable, fingers in their lap spasming as if indecisive, “yes!! yes, all is well, friend!! we’re alright. you alright, tv too loud? all good?!”

so, your friends weren’t quite themselves, were they? were they? you reached over to the remote on the table, switching the television off with the press of a button, while the animatronic observed after your every move. you turned to them a little more after that, and held out your arms with an unsure grin, to which sunrays extended to stab through the poor nightcap further, “i’m all good! don’t worry, buddy… do you uh, want a hug?”

there was a moment of hesitation, like their body was held back by something, yet their faceplate was lit up with a sort of unbridled joy that had your smile widening, “YES!! yes, yes!!! that would be nice, mhm. can we?!”

you raised a brow, teasing, “i’m literally the one who asked, guys. of course.”

very soon after saying that you were gathered in arms and cradled close, high pitched laughter and mumbles being whispered as you wrapped your limbs around them, still jittery hands rubbing circles into your back. digits trailed and traced up your spine, ghosting over notches of vertebrae like second nature, and you squeezed them closer still. a laugh escaped you too when you felt cold fingers trail to your upper neck and draw shapes on your cheeks, pulling your head gently to face their faceplate. rays retracted to be able to rest on your shoulder, eyes still staring at you as their plastic plated fingers brushed over your mouth, the barest of pressure to make the skin give before their line of sight finally drifted to what they were doing.

it was like lightning struck their servos, making them sit rod straight with sunrays ripping up the hat more as they flared and spun like the blades of a fan, making you wince at the future stitching project. it was like they were trying to avoid any physical contact with you now, despite you still very much being spread on their lap, and you were mildly surprised they hadn’t chucked you across the living room from the force of their jolt, “wh- are you okay?? what happened?!”

they seemed like you when you reflected on an embarrassing memory from elementary school in the dead of night, and you had to choke down a wheeze that would’ve been at their expense, mortification hidden behind the same hands that had so affectionately held you, “OH MY GOSH. WE’RE SO SORRY- sorry- WE DIDN’T EVEN ASK!! WE’RE HORRIBLE!!! fakest friends. HOW COULD WE?? horrib-“

you furrowed your brows, leaning forward to pry their hands from their face, which they probably let you from how easy it was to move them. you then replaced their hands with your own, making sure to keep eye contact while they stared into yours, lightly brushing thumbs over the designs carved onto their faceplate, “ALRIGHT, NONE OF THAT!! i don’t know what you’re freaking out about, but you’re not bad buddies at all! like, if it’s about the whole touchy-feely dealy, then you guys are fine!!! more than fine, really! don’t you think i would TELL you to stop if i got uncomfortable?!”

there was a moment of quiet, and hands that were hovering at their sides drop down to the couch cushions, “uhm.. yeah, guess so. are… are you sure, though??! can we-“

your hands found theirs in a slightly annoyed resolution, lifting them to your face to press from the palms to their fingertips to your mouth, effectively killing any words left in their voicebox. you swore you maybe heard the air conditioning kick up speed in the silence, and when you moved on to their metal knuckles, one of them breathed out static, “star, we get it..”

you huffed at them, pausing to stare at their unreadable expression, “YOU BETTER!! AND ALSO YOU’RE NOT FAKE!! now come on, can we get back to it??? the back rubs were especially nice..”

there was hesitation again for a moment, but then they snickered something that was an overlap of the two you knew and loved, and digits traveled over your skin. you sighed in contentment, sinking into their hold while hugging them close to you once more, squeezing when a hand came up to card through your hair, “aww, friend!!! …spoiled.”

you went to yap an objection, but any fight left you when they rested a faceplate with retracted rays back on your shoulder, tracing stars into the corners of your lips. you simply flicked the bells tied to their wrist absentmindedly instead, happy.

[ masterpost ]

[futturmangamez]

Hellloo tumblr! Or should I say..futturfriends? I don't know hah! This is very important‼‼⚠️ I really hope everyone can see this

Just wanted to say a big thank you again for all of the love I have received so far! Did not think that I could gain a lot of new friends on here:) I wanted to point out though..I am uh..23. And I do tend to post a LOT of...nsfw topics😅 so I think it's really important to remember that unless you're an adult, I suggest not looking through my page and stuff. Maybeee 16+ is okay? Not for all things though. But still..I see some of you little preteenagers trying to talk to me in certain ways when you should be finishing your middle school final project before summer(light hearted joke😆🤣)

On another note! I do want to make sure everyone who is following and interacting my page feels comfortable. I want to be a safe space for you guys whether it be to reblog silly posts, ask me questions or share what you're up to, even messaging me how your day is, a little uh..flirtayy😌(hello beautiful ladies,men, and other futterfriends💋), and ranting as well! I dont mind any of that stuff..just keep in mind that I receive a lot of messages now and I try to balance tumblr with my games and work such! So please pleasee do not be hurt or offended if it takes me a few hours or even a day to reply sometimes 😅 I promise I will get to you when I can. Love you💙

(Also hi! This account is growing quite quick and I appreciate a lot of you for sticking around as well..still kinda new to tumblr and shit. Pls remember this is yknow..a roleplay account..I'm aware josh does post some annoying stuff hah I am just here to make others happy and do as best as I could roleplaying as josh..even if it's a lil horny haha I'm an adult too. I myself am nott trying to get with any of u..if that wasnt clear🤭I'm also human. Not an ai bot. (C ai and janitor ai has lots of josh futturman bots:)) I promise none of you guys are bothering me but I tend to take some time now to answer as it's been difficult balancing things, especially since I have some low mental health days too..as I'm sure josh would as well:D but yes feel free to message or reblog as much as u want..I know all of us are going thru something..if you're under 18 I dont mind if u come to josh to talk about anything NOT nsfw. I know what it's like to be young and not have a safe place to talk about things/rant..josh can be like your older silly cousin or sumn🫂 and if u ever prefer josh to say specific things in dm just say so :] also down to make friends with anyone here as well. Sending love and virtual hugs💜- B🃏

[jellhound]

paisley facts

paisley love space! she worked at a NASA-like place as a janitor, always feeling jealous of those who can actually go to space and are apart of sending people to space, until one day her hard work was realized and she got promoted to a programmer! now she works on programs that are used on space ships and used to keep track of things currently in space, like probes and rovers!

she still wants to go to space herself, but she feels like she's that much closer to maybe doing that one day, so she's still happy with what she has.

she also writes fanfiction about space probes and rovers and makes them humanoid robots that kiss or something. or want to kiss but due to the distance, they cant, bc space.

her parents, being dormice, were constantly sleepy and neglected their child bc they couldn't really be bothered. so as a kid, paisley acted out at school to get attention she wasn't receiving at home. she got in trouble quite often because of this.

she resents her parents for how they treated her and doesnt really keep in contact with them.

meanwhile, paisley didnt get the sleepy trait, and probably doesnt sleep as much as she should lol

she technically isn't related to mice, but still really likes cheese. she will get upset if someone is like "of course you like cheese" to her, though. she also really likes berries, nuts, and charcuterie boards!

[silentspacenstuff]

Anticipating Parenthood

Buzz and Mira await the birth of twins; follow-up to Focus On The Future

Mira groaned as she seated herself on the couch in her and Buzz's living room, incomplete paperwork in hand. She wasn't sure how many more boring days at home she could take. Though she was looking forward to the adventure of being a mother, she was also eager to get back into the action she'd been missing out on since being put on maternity leave. Commander Nebula would occasionally give Mira some paperwork to do so she'd feel she was at least doing something useful for Star Command, and the boys always kept her up to date on the team's latest escapades across the galaxy, but it wasn't the same as actually being on the mission on person.

"Sort, fold, send," the Tangean mumbled to herself as she leafed through the paperwork. "Sort, fold, send ..."

Since Tangean pregnancies didn't last as long as human ones, and the twins were part human (as well as part Morphian on their father's side), the doctors couldn't provide a proper due date. All they could do was give Buzz and Mira an estimated time period during which the babies could possibly be born. Mira thought of all the weekends Buzz had spent setting up the nursery. At first the space ranger insisted that he could handle most of the work by himself; but after accidentally spilling an entire can of paint all over the north wall of the nursery, as well as on some of the furniture, he agreed to let Booster and XR help - which they were more than happy to do, of course.

In a corner of the room was a pile of gifts Buzz and Mira had been sent by their friends. So far there were those nice hand-woven blankets Booster's parents had sent; the space-themed musical mobile and baby monitors from Rocket and Melanie; the cute little outfits from Fop and Bonnie; those darling animal onesies made from ethically-sourced Altairian Lamapaca wool from Ty and Ozma; the teething rings, stuffed animals and other toys from Ian and Teresa. For his gift, XR tried to set up a security system of sorts in the nursery ("You know, in case of kidnappers," he said), but unfortunately Buzz had to take it down due to safety concerns.

Poor XR, Mira thought. He was just trying to be helpful. Even when things didn't work out.

Now, with the soonest possible due date having already passed, and the latest possible due date only two weeks away, the nursery was finished and ready for the arrival of the little Lightyear-Nova twins.

Wanting a break from the boredom, Mira placed the papers on the coffee table in front of her and turned her attention to the photographs adorning the walls. There was one of Buzz as a small boy sitting on his Nana's lap, along with some of other moments in Buzz's life. His first Junior Space Ranger meeting; at Cosmo's with Warp, Ty, and Rocket during their Academy days; his graduation from the Space Ranger Academy; the day he received his first award; the day he, Mira, XR, and Booster officially became Team Lightyear ...

Was it really almost six years ago?  Mira thought. It feels like it was only yesterday I was a rebellious rookie fresh out of the Academy, teaming up with an annoying talking tin can, a clumsy but kind-hearted janitor, and the pride of Star Command himself to free the Unimind and the galaxy from the clutches of evil ...

A sudden kick in the ribs from one of her unborn twins jolted Mira out of her thoughts. Craters! Not again! the mother-to-be thought, clenching her teeth as she clapped a hand to her side in an attempt to ease the pain, then started to take deep steady breaths until the pain subsided.

"Whichever one of you did that, you are grounded for a week as soon as you are born! Do you hear me, young man or lady?"

The babies remained still for a minute, as if in shame. Then one of them started to wiggle, and its sibling soon joined in.

Of course, Mira could never stay mad at her twins for long, no matter how hard they kicked her. Smiling, the mother-to-be leaned into the back of the couch, placed a hand on her swollen belly, and started to hum softly while the little ones within her womb continued to kick and squirm. As she started to relax, her mind began to drift back to almost eight months ago, when Buzz first brought up the idea of parenthood.

Read the rest here:

[sonicasura]

Lol, yeah the DF is lucky on that part. A menace like that would get even the best of the DF to loose their shit with the amount of pranks thats been going on for years.

And yeah, some indeed thought it was Akari who'd made these bombs but nope. They got had with a kid who's still struggling to control his powers. Years later, they know the truth and oh boy is Kafka in for some overdue payback.

But back to the school shall we? Now Kafka don't have the time nor the resources to trap the entier highschool. He has just enough time to trap a small section befor the officers realize where Kafka really is. Though the shcool he ends up at is one of the really old ones and have many confusing corridors and whatnots thanks to all the new add ones and repairs done over the many decades the shcool has exsisted.

Even Kafka finds himself lost in there, since he somehow manage to find a lot of hidden spaces that acts as short cuts and various old rooms that is no longer in much use. It also the reason why he did not have a lot of time of it since the boy wasted quite a bit of time looking for the janitors room and a few other things to make traps off.

He found a lot more than he thought he would and before long Isao and officers finds themself in their own new horro school game. Especially since Kafka can't stop himself from acting like a little germling and make all kinds of noises and what nots to make thing even more confusing. Not to mention unnerving.

Though Kafka don't waste much time on that as Isao and the others are after all looking for him. So Kafka hides in one of these many rooms to slowly transform back to human again.

And much like in canon, whenever he transforms anything his wears is hidden underneath the his kaiju form. And given that Kafka decided to go out as kid covered in fake blood, scars, looking chostly pale and wearing raged cloths made for quite the sight when Isao found Kafka sitting in one of the classrooms eating a candy bar.

The man genuinely thought he actually saw a ghost because as soon as he blinked, Kafka was gone. And then somehow reappared behind him.

And then by partly transforming his vocal cords made the best creepy child voice he could. Proto is to blame for this part as the old kaiju decided to teach his grandson some movie horros moves he had actually managed to recreat by watching a lot of said movies. And became curious if he could pull some of them off.

Cleary, Kafka has gotten some bad habits as a result. Something neither Hina nor Akari are happy with.

Proto knew what his grandson would potentially get into and is no doubt laughing about this entire incident. I imagine all the older officers coming together just to prank the living hell out of our himbo once they realize he was the gremlin that pranked them all those years ago. Kafka has no clue about it until it's too late.

[bekaroth-reads]

Gman x Reader

[Things to note: I'm just now getting back into the Half-life series after not playing it for years, so there's mostly likely lore stuff or whatever that's wrong. Also, this is kinda long and not proof read, sorry about that, I guess]

It was a nice day. During everything that was constantly happening good weather was always a blessing that everyone was thankful for. Something else that you were thankful for was the fact that you were in one of the smaller cities. Yes, you were still under the every-watching eye of the Combine, but it wasn’t as pressing as it was in the larger ones. You had actually moved, or rather were moved, to this place, so little that it didn’t even have a name, about fifteen years ago. You had spent much of your childhood and some of your teenage years in City 17, and when it was deemed that you were, “old enough,” to take care of yourself in your later teen years, you were chosen for a project to inhabit a smaller, more rural habitations the Combine had started to move people to.

While your parents were hesitant to let you go, they were somewhat happy to see you got to one of these more peaceful areas. Apparently, you had lived somewhere similar when you were a small child. Though, you had trouble remembering it as it was so long ago. Your parents had found you wandering in some ruins, and took you in. It was odd to see a child around all things considered, but as they were wanting a child for sometime and the Combine officials where they were didn’t seem to mind them having one, they weren’t going to complain.

You were part of the reason that they were moved to a larger city in the first place. It was so there were plenty of Combine approved personnel to keep an eye on you and your life; it was almost like they were expecting something drastic to happen. But, throughout all your life and all of the extensive habit studying, frequent doctors’ appointments, and the other few odd things here and there, you were just a normal person.

Honestly, while you were sad to be separated from your parents, you were more than happy to get a new start at life out here. There most you could complain about was the fact that your work was chosen for you. Most everyone out here were scavengers or sorts. Janitors might be a more fitting term; perhaps something between the two. Your job was to clear out rubble around the area to see if there was anything useful in the debris, or to try to find usable building space for whatever the Combine might want to use it for. At the moment, they were using them from makeshift housing for means of building the populous of the area.

While you and your neighbors most certain ally weren’t told what their plans were, you all figured it was to divide people even more to make control a bit easier. Though knowing the odd ways of the Combine there was no way of knowing for sure.

There wasn’t quite as much work to do today as your group had finished clearing a section of debris, and you were all told to wait for further instructions before moving on to the next step. Seeing as it would still be light for a few more hours, you decided to go for a walk before going back home. There weren’t many level places to walk, at least where you were being watched like a hawk the whole time. You had fun exploring the old buildings and the surrounding areas anyways. Sometimes you could find little bits and bobs and take them home to brighten the place up before the official team went on a search and were told to dispose of most everything.

You had found a building this time that look like used to be a work building of some kind. If you could find the place that used to be the office, you could really score some stuff. The last one that you searched had all sorts of fun things on the desks; your favorite was a little snow globe that had surprisingly not been shattered through the years. The glass was starting to yellow a bit, but the glitter still shone brightly around the little cartoon, alien figure in the middle. If only the people who made it all that time ago knew…

Much to your delight there was an office here. Looked like it was something corporate and cushy, so there was bound to be plenty of frivolities around based on the things some of the older people in your group had told you. As you looked around for anything interesting, your eye caught a picture hanging on the wall. While you thought to take it back with you just as a joke, you decided it would be better suited here as something of a monument to the people that used to work here; who knows if any of them survived.

You did have to admire, even sort of marvel at their out fits. It seemed odd to you that there was really that many different types of clothing. The most anyone had these days were their jumpsuits and maybe a hat or some other accessory made from the scraps around. These people looked like they all had full outfits with some pretty fancy jewelry, watches, and a few more accessories that you weren’t even sure what they were.

A crunch of the graveled debris put you on alert, and quickly you spun around. There was someone there…or, you thought so. Now that you were looking closely you could see it was just your imagination. Something else that told you that you were still alone was the fact that your imagined voyeur had an outfit like the people in the picture. It must have been a trick of the light, one of those things where if you look at something for too long then you see it’s ghost for a moment once you look away. After looking for a few minutes more and grabbing a few things for yourself and some for your neighbors, you decided not to push your luck any further. It’s not like there were any rules against looking around like this, as long as one stayed in the permitted region. But, it was never a smart idea to give the Civil Protection any opportunity say it was for their own entertainment.

There was something that kept gnawing at the back of your mind that you were in fact being watched. It seemed this feeling was correct as the next thing you knew there was someone standing on a ledge about twenty feet above the hall you were walking down. You took a moment to try to see who it was, but quickly decided to keep moving. It seemed that two things were true: there was a man in the office room with you and he did in fact have one of those office outfits on- a suit you think you had heard them called? In any case, he certainly wasn’t from around here; that meant there was a non-zero chance he was with the Combine somehow. No need to interact with them when you don’t have to.

Whoever that was must have wanted you to see him as there was no effort on his part to hide once he was spotted. In fact, he watched you the entire way through the hall. All you could do was to leave this place as soon as you could and hope that he wasn’t some sort of new look out and that you had seen the last of him. That last hope should be the actual case as you were getting close to where you had entered from and though you weren’t sure exactly how that guy got up where he did, it must have taken at least a bit of time get there.

“Excuse me.”

Against the odds the man you were just pondering walked from a nearby doorway, making you freeze in your tracks. Though he looked like any other person you had seen, there was something about him that seemed like it commanded more authority, almost to an involuntary degree.

“Pardon me,” the man offered, perhaps as another greeting or perhaps because he noticed that he startled you, “but… you see, I … was passing through when, I noticed something… familiar.” There was something odd about the way his words were spoken. It didn’t seem to be a stutter, at least in none of its usual varieties. It almost sounded like he was struggling to breathe with every word he said. Or, like it was difficult for him to even form the words in the first place.

“Familiar?” You question hesitantly.

“Y-es.” He replies expectantly.

“Do I… I mean- have we met?” You asked.

“No.” He responded. “Though that should not have… any bearing on the situation.”

You were starting to think this guy was more than just eccentric.

“So, we’ve never met, but you’re supposed to look familiar?”

“Not…look. It’s more of a …feeling.” Now the man looked confused. He seemed to think there was something that should have been obvious to notice, but you weren’t sensing anything.

“Perhaps… yes. I believe your… well, rather, you- have buried yourself. Though, I cannot say why.”

The man sat down the case in his hand, the handle falling down with a small thump. He then walked closer to you, raised his hands, and placed his thumbs on either side of your head to gently press onto your temples. You were still frozen where you were, though you almost felt curiosity rather than fear.

“Now- let us see what… exactly has you so forgetful.” He hummed more to himself rather than to you a split second before every thing went black in a snap like a light being switched off.

Things were suddenly zipping through your mind and past your darkened eyes faster than you could even hope to process them. Star rushing past, flashes bizarre landscapes wove their way between the spacial feeling of pressurizing weightlessness and the smell of char. Things that seemed so strange, so alien, and yet…

Just as quickly as you had blacked out, you suddenly found yourself back in the abandoned building, the man walking away from you and picking up his case once more.

“It seems like this… is a more, intensive, process than I originally thought. You seemed rather overwhelmed.” He looked back to you, his eyes that were once a striking blue now seemed to have a bight green glow from the irises, making them look almost teal. There was an endearment to his gaze, that you now seemed to understand; at least a bit more anyway. Something about him did seem familiar; it was a sense more so than a memory. Even though you did not know him, nor had you ever, it was like you had been looking for him for centuries.

“You appear to be having…difficulty, remembering. And, regrettably, I do not have any more time- to spare helping you at the moment.” Suddenly, a white light in the shape of doorway rose from the ground. “We shall be in touch again soon.”

And, and with that he walked through and the light closed.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You managed to stumble your way back to your apartment, the first thing you did was flop down on the old mattress that you had. There were so many things rushing through your mind, but most of them were incomprehensible. You weren’t sure how long you lied there and pondered, but it was long enough that the sun had finished going down. The cool might breeze helped to calm you down and bring you out of you zoned out fog.

You sat up, not realizing until you were directly in across from the little window on the other side of the room that you had a cold sweat, the breeze cooling it further. Not doing much more to acknowledge it than the involuntary shiver that ran through your system, you walked over to look out at the night sky. Reaching over to the nearby desk, you took your little snow globe and started to fidget with it, stirring up the glitter in all different directions.

Holding up the little semi-sphere to the open window, the glitter blended with the starts and the little alien hovered among them all. Yet, it was still trapped by the yellowed glass.

You sighed, tired from everything, but still lazily swirling the snow globe.

"Did I have a past life or something?" You wondered aloud.

"I wouldn't say-"

You screamed at the voice that suddenly appeared behind you.

Whirling around you saw the man from before, the green flittering from his eyes and leaving only the blue once more. He ducked down quickly, and a moment later stood up with your tricket in hand; you must have dropped it when you were startled.

"My, apologies..." He offered before looking at the thing in his hand. A playful, almost unbelieving smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he turned the contents himself.

"Life is... full of- interesting allegories. Wouldn't you agree?" He mused as he handed the globe back to you.

You didn't have a response. That didn't seem to matter as he seemed to have more to say himself.

"As I was explaining: I wouldn't say that you- had a... past life- as much as I would say, you've had one with a... new beginning."

You felt like you should understand what he was saying; you wanted to understand what he was saying. But, it was odd to think you were anyone but who your immediate memories told you that you were- just an average person trying to live the best life that they could under the iron grip of the Combine...

Wait!

"The Civil Protection! If they heard me yell, then-"

"Do not worry. We are somewhere that... they cannot bother us."

It was then you noticed how still everything was. The wasn't a sound other than one that was familiar to the soft hum from the field of stars you saw earlier, and the breeze had stopped completely.

"Where? Where are we?" You questioned.

He made a face that seemed both amused and forlorn.

"You really have... forgotten- so much."

Before anything else could be said, it seemed like he realized something. No, it was like he was being told something in an unseen earpiece.

"It seems our current time together must come to an end. I must apologize for presuming your- continued visits. However, it has been...

It has been- welcoming, to have like company."

He straightened his shirt collar and then his jacket like he was embarrassed about something; perhaps what he had just said. Then he gained a smug grin.

"And, I cannot very well leave you... to your own devices after- introducing you to your true nature. Might be dangerous, hm?"

The light doorway immerged once more, and you new that meant he had to leave.

"You will come back?" You asked a bit more enthusiastically than you meant to. It seemed you also felt the connection he did, though you weren't even sure you knew what it was.

"Of course. Until we... meet again."

And with that he was gone, leaving you back to the real world, your thoughts, and the soft night breeze.

[men-of-colors]

Yesterday I finally saw “Barbie”, required watching for both the Woke and the AntiWoke.

Ryan Gosling never looked so buff or Simu Liu so sexy.

But I’m not here to talk about them.

There was something wrong that I could not place my finger on and after getting home I looked at several Barbie-sucks YouTube videos. They all had a point but weren’t quite MY point.

In Barbieland, the Barbies and Kens all live totally separate existences but also get along in perfect harmony. Nobody seems to give a second thought that the Barbies hold all positions of importance, all the way down to the janitors (arguably important because they actually hold a job), while the Kens are LITERALLY just decoration. Genitalia, thus libido per se, does not exist so neither does romance nor drama between the sexes. True, the Kens seem a little frustrated, but they manage while in truth there is nothing substantial going in the Barbies’ lives either.

At Barbie’s dream house, every night is “girl’s night”. Nobody knows what happens to the Kens at night, not even where they supposedly live. Girls hang with girls and boys with boys.

In other words, it’s a queer, queer, queer, queer world. Queer and peaceful and happy. All the fucking time. But of course no one fucks at all. Or ever. All that Ken meat and muscle around and not even a neck rub.

All that changes after Ken has seen the human world where Kens (men) are not just decoration but have this thing called Patriarchy which makes them important. And they have horses. Ken realizes this is what Barbieland needs: Patriarchy!

Ken gets back to B-land before Barbie does and gets to work. In what seems to be the space of a few hours, B-land is totally transformed and all the Kens have seduced the Barbies and are acting like rednecks. With mini-fridges full of beer.

Stereotype-Barbie returns horrified. B-land has become sexualized, and heterosexualized at that!

We’re not in Pleasantville anymore... (Speaking of which, Reese Witherspoon would have been much better as Barbie than Margot Robbie)

The fact that Stereo Barbie is horrified and works hard to get Barbieland back to the way it was (Pleasantville style), is what horrified so many reviewers. But others say that is exactly the point. But again, I’m not going there.

I had another take.

Seeing how in Barbieland, no one goes hungry (they can’t eat), they can beach all day and dance all night, and boys and girls are allowed (meant?) to live separate lives, it seems like a total queer utopia.

So the sudden loss of innocence in the Ken boytoys was particular poignant from

the perspective of a gay kid.

For most queersons, puberty is a time when their whole lives —fantasies and all—are reduced to a shambles, and they spend the next several decades trying to put everything back together again, only in a different grown-up version. There are no blueprints or social guidelines that serve as hints along the way.

So yeah, I understand Barbie’s horror though not for the same reasons. You can never go back to how it was.

What happened after that, well you can go see it yourself and see where you might fit in.

Anyway, I was hoping for some kind of funky version of La La Land mixed in with Pleasantville and the Truman Show, but Barbie was no La La Land. And that’s OK I guess.

You go out and watch it and see for yourself.

[dearestones]

For Funsies (Caged Birds Verse ft. Z Squared and Key)

Warnings: Needs knowledge of Caged Birds, references to a snippet in Chapter 12, canon compliant to Caged Birds. 

@lottieinlimbo Request: Anything vaguely key and janitor staff interactions related would be snazzy 

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Zahur watched with keen eyes as Key paused in the middle of her stride, her fingers tugging at the hem of an old Night Raven College shirt that one of the students had neglected to bring home over the summer break. Although the material looked cozy (it was well worn and soft to the touch when he accidentally brushed past her), the young woman looked like she wasn’t comfortable in it. The fabric swallowed her figure, making her appear almost childlike and tinier than her actual stature. It also did not help that there were old red stains upon the front of it, as if someone had dumped a vat of spaghetti sauce upon the fabric and did not immediately wash it afterwards.

"Hey, newbie, feeling scared?"

Zahur felt Key’s eyes land on him as he pocketed his phone into the side pocket of his uniform. Although it had been almost two weeks since she had been placed under the care of Alastair, the young custodian hadn't spent too much time with him or their other colleagues. A part of Zahur understood that it took time to get used to working with a lively bunch, but he couldn’t help but feel that there was something more to her reticent nature that couldn’t be fully explained by shyness.

Emilio, ever the troublemaker, was one of the first to try to break her out of her shell. After finding out that Alastair was roped into taking care of someone for the Headmage, he had been quick to invade Key's personal space. It was in Emilio's nature to pester and ask questions—curiosity was at the core of his personality, second to pranking, of course. However, while Key was initially very polite, she wasn't too receptive to his ostentatious displays of friendship. Emilio had backed off after a day or so, but he was still intrigued by the newest recruit, often citing that he was happy that there was another magicless staff member in their midst.

For Zahur, he wasn't too interested in the newcomer at first. Alastair hadn't been too forthright when it came to who Key was and why she was hired at Night Raven College and she certainly hadn't opened up until recently. The very few times he had been alone with Key, he had noted that she was flighty and seemed sad, almost lost whenever she thought that no one else was looking.

There was also the first week period when Key had been periodically sent or stayed in the infirmary due to illness—the likes of which Zahur and the others weren't too aware of.

So, yes. Key was a bit of a mystery that some of the custodians were keen on solving or watching unfold. Surprisingly, other members of support staff like the gardeners and the stablehands were also curious, but didn’t usually venture out of their own spheres to confront her. 

For all of Zaria's cold and aloof nature, she was actually the most insistent on trying to understand Key. Zahur had joked that it must have been Zaria's maternal instincts rearing up again (as if he would ever let her live down the fact that she absolutely caved whenever she saw her sister's kids), but ended up swallowing his words when she sent him a death glare. Most of her attempts were based on trying to be in the same room as Key, talking about literature, or trying to dig into Key's background. More often than not, Zaria came back empty handed. Unlike Emilio, though, her attempts were subtle and while Key did not reciprocate, she didn't have to verbally tell her to leave her alone.

A win for Zaria and a total loss for kicked puppy Emilio.

Perhaps that was why Alastair had decided to assign Zahur and Zaria to mentor Key for the day. It was only fair considering that he had spent the first few days answering her questions and touring her around the school while simultaneously escorting her to and from the infirmary. Furthermore, summer school was about to start and that meant that there were going to be a few scholarship students who needed to help the custodians out. A quick look at the roster revealed there was going to be an Octavinelle student by the name of Cameron Norton, a recently graduated second year fox beastman. Cameron was already in tune with the culture and schedule of the maintenance staff so that didn't mean that he needed much supervision. However, because he was still a student, he would need to be accompanied by someone...

And considering how much Alastair needed the new custodian to become more accustomed to the school, it would make sense to pair her up with Cameron.

Zahur wasn't sure how that was going to play out, but he had been a teenage boy with delusions of grandeur, so he wouldn't be surprised if Cameron chafed at being supervised by someone who had only a few days' experience. In fact, Zahur had thought about warning Alastair or even Key, but thought better of it.

Key would have to learn sooner rather than later that NRC students were a different breed. 

At the very least, Zahur knew from experience that Cameron was a hard worker and tended to fly under the radar. He had his own fair share of troubles and had participated in a few shenanigans (there was a potions incident with a fellow second year from Pomefiore, which resulted in a dozen students’ hair becoming a hot shade of pink), but he was generally amiable. The fox beastman’s easygoing nature was generally a favorable trait unless you wanted to delve deep underneath the surface, but Zahur never pried too far when supervising him. 

But back to the matter at hand—

When Alastair had announced that morning that Key would be shadowing Z Squared, she appeared shocked and a little confused. Maybe even apprehensive.

Zahur could sympathize. 

Even though he had been employed longer than both Zaria and Emilio, he was still somewhat intimidated by Zaria at times. The snow leopard beastman was a gruff, down to earth sweetheart, but her cold nature was just as domineering as her hometown’s famed mountain range. 

Of course, people pleaser as she was, Key merely nodded and followed both senior custodians. Once they were all in the supply closet (Zahur and Zaria didn't feel like taking the scenic route), Zaria pressed her pointer finger against the web of cracks on the wall. Once the cracks had resembled that of the inner workings of a lock, the snow leopard beastman rotated her finger counterclockwise—as if she were wielding a working key. 

Back when they had first found out that the young woman’s name was Key, Emilio had teased her a little for it. Key had simply said that it was the name that she wanted to be called and nothing else. 

Now, everyone was pretty much aware of Dr. Park’s sordid and mysterious past and there were plenty of employees roaming around NRC’s hallowed halls to know that there were people who did not need their lives dug into. It simply wasn’t under their purview to vet their fellow colleagues and while the Headmage was not entirely consistent in his professionalism, he did hire people who did good work. Whether or not that good work was carried out by those who were haunted by past misdeeds was none of their concern. 

Normally, Zahur would have let it go… It’s just that Key was a child. 

Yes, she was technically an adult—in fact, she was as old as the third years and some fourth years—but that meant nothing. How could someone think that she was okay when other members of her age group were busy carousing and making trouble for their peers and staff alike was beyond him. Even if Key tried her hardest to appear normal, it was apparent to everyone that she was hiding something.

Zahur wouldn’t go as far as to say that she was some sort of escaped criminal or a refugee from a horrible situation, but the circumstances surrounding her sudden appearance was suspect. 

Alastair hadn’t been actively looking for new recruits despite his insistence that they were understaffed and the Headmage hadn’t sent out notices for new applicants. If he had, Zahur would have sent an email or two to some buddies who were down on their luck. 

No, the appearance of one confused and lost looking Key was downright surprising. 

After Zaria finished the process, they were able to pass through the magical doorway and into the supply room that was adjacent to the entrance way to the dungeons. Unfortunately, the dungeons were not not equipped with a supply room, so it was up to Zahur or Zaria to levitate a janitorial cart from the supply room and down into the depths of the dungeons. 

Because Zahur had a better handle on magic, he gestured at Zaria to conduct the levitating spell. 

Annoyed, she glared at him with the heat of tea that had reached room temperature, but complied anyway. 

“Come on, Ria,” he murmured gently as he helped adjust her casting stance. “It’s always good practice, especially since you like to rely on your physical strength.”

While Zahur had trained at Night Raven College when he was younger, Zaria’s magic blossomed a little too late and her parents couldn’t afford to send her to a school that specialized in magic. The most training she received was from an accredited institution that focused more on theory rather than application. What she couldn’t learn from the pages of  a weathered textbook or the laminated pages of a pamphlet was from studying the elders in town or pestering tourists for a demonstration. 

Thankfully, Zaria’s magic, while rudimentary, was still functioning well, especially under Zahur’s tutelage. 

Once the levitation spell was stabilized, Zaria began heading towards the stairs. Meanwhile, Zahur waved Key over and gave her a pile of sugar cubes. 

He looked down at her, an encouraging smile on his face. 

Key, a little hesitant, raised her hand with the sugar cubes above her head. “So I just—?”

“Yeah, just call them and I’ll do the rest.”

Key nodded before pursing her lips and whistling. 

It took a couple shaky notes, but eventually, they heard the sound of gently twinkling bells. Up above, three little fairies trickled in from their resting places from the sconces that bore the green flames before alighting onto Key’s outstretched palm. The fairies grabbed at the sugar cubes expectantly, but looked at Key curiously. True to Zahur’s word, he told the fairies that they would require their assistance in lighting up the sconces down the steps and in the main chambers of the dungeon. Again, Zahur was more than capable of doing it himself, but it was better to keep the fairies appeased and give them enrichment lest they start begging the students and staff for sweets. 

With their new job acknowledged, the three fairies placed the sugar cubes into their assigned sconces (one of them nibbled at a corner of a cube) before flitting ahead and lighting up the way with bright green flames. 

With that out of the way, all three of the custodians began their gradual descent to the dungeons. 

Centuries ago, this castle used to be home to royalty until it had been converted into a school by a kind but eccentric innovator and educator. There hadn’t been a name attached to such a person, but it was rumored that this man was someone who valued learning from many different cultures, beliefs, and ultimately, the infinite ways of doing magic. Nowadays, the dungeon was a long gone relic of ages gone by, but Zahur was convinced that part of the punishment, aside from being imprisoned, was going down the long flight of stairs. 

The trek down was long and arduous, but eventually, all three of them finally found themselves deep in the depths of the dungeons. 

The air underneath the school was dank and cold, Zahur could feel his skin forming goosebumps along his dark, tanned skin. Reflexively, he reached for the elastic that kept his long hair tucked and tamed in a low hanging ponytail so that he could tighten it. 

It would be a shame if he lost one of Zaria’s elastics in the dank depths of the dungeon. 

A couple feet in front of Zahur, Zaria halted and gracefully allowed her magic to set the janitorial cart down onto the floor.

“First order of business,” Zaria said as she waved Key forward, “we analyze the situation. What do you see?”

Key, who up until that point had been looking at the dungeons in a mixture of dread and astonishment, looked startled when she had been unceremoniously dragged out of her thoughts. That was another thing about her, Zahur realized, she was someone who spent a lot of time in her head. 

A good trait for someone who liked the routine, mundane work of a custodian. 

But not exactly something you would mix with someone who was bogged down with a past that clearly brought them grief. 

“It’s…” Key’s deep brown eyes flitted in between the huge chamber, at the old metal bars that encased empty rooms designed to house prisoners, and old tools meant for punishment. “It’s going to take all day to clean this.”

“Good eye,” Zahur chuckled as he made his way to the mops and the buckets that they prepared beforehand. “Second order of business?”

“Twenty questions.”

The speed of Key’s head turn was quick enough to cause Zahur to experience whiplash. Was her neck okay? 

“P-pardon, Miss Zaria?”

“What, you think we chose to clean the dungeons because it was our assignment?” Zahur couldn’t help but tease Key. Cleaning the dungeons was more like a once a quarter thing since no one went down there aside from a few troublemakers. Today, they were supposed to clean and sanitize the classrooms that weren’t in session today, but Key didn’t know that. “Tell her, habibti, why we’re here.”

Deadpan, and without any lilt or inflection in Zaria’s voice, she said, “For funsies.”

Key’s eyes widened behind the thick lenses of her glasses. “F-funsi—”

“I didn’t say that, you did.” Zaria grabbed a mop and threw it, handle first at the young custodian, seemingly not caring, but still watching with a critical eye as Key fumbled with the catch. “And you will never say I did. Understood?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Good. What’s your opinion on erotica?”

“Excu—”

“Twenty questions, keep up. Erotica?”

Zahur whistled to himself as he started in one of the farthest corners of the dungeon, cheerfully ignoring Keandy’s scandalized looks and pleas for help. Yeah, it was totally Alastair’s fault for assigning Key to them under the pretense that would get her to bond with the other custodians, but… Zahur didn’t mind it too much. 

And, judging by the barely concealed glee in Zaria’s deadpan delivery, she didn’t mind too. 

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If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

TWISTED WONDERLAND MASTERLIST

[cigvrettedvet]

theodora & lila.

   “oh i won’t get in any trouble.” lila said with a little shake of her head and a small scoff. even though she was going to take her advice and make sure everything was done tomorrow, if it wasn’t then she knew it would be a bit difficult to try and pay for this wedding. “it’ll get done tomorrow, i promise.” she said with a happy grin as she leaned against their counter. her smile widened when theo said that she had been looking at dressed and that just made all of this feel so real. she could draw a million pictures put it wasn’t until they started to book everything and pay for everything that it was going to feel real. “can i see? no, i’m not allowed.” she said with a little shake of her head before leaning a bit closer. “… but can i see?” she teased knowing that she knew she didn’t want to see until they finally decided on a date and got everything all put together. the happiness that the two of them were feeling was sky high in their apartment. it was like thy were constantly happy and that nothing could tear this away from either of them. “i should probably look at something, right? oh i could even sketch something and see what i can go from there.” finally she closed the space between them and pulled her in for a long and much needed kiss. she chuckled against her lips before finally pulling away and sighing happily. “have you talk everyone at the studio? i told the rest of my friends, told my family… i don’t think i’m forgetting anyone.” she knew that they might have to cut down their list of people for the wedding but they’d get to that much later. “hopefully you’ve been getting some heads turning with the ring.” 

           theo playfully narrowed her eyes at lila for as long as she could, trying her best to look even a little threatening. but at the end of the day, theo trusted her fiance and that she’d get it done tomorrow. at the very least, theo would be her drill sergeant if she didn’t. “no way!” theo chuckled, “it’s bad luck. or is it bad luck to see the bride in the dress? oh, i can’t remember. but either way, it’s supposed to be a surprise!” she was happy over lila’s obvious enthusiasm which only made her feel better about everything. once they secured the venue and really got the plans rolling, theo’s fantasies would finally become a reality. “seeing as your sketches are all amazing, i wouldn’t mind seeing a couple more,” the brunette assured. theo’s smiling by the time she pulls away from the kiss, feeling so happy that she didn’t even know what to do with herself. “are you kidding? i’ve told everyone at the studio. even down to the janitor,” theo laughed, “i can’t keep something like this a secret even if i wanted to.” theo’s family also knew and they were happy for her to have finally found the one for her. they were well aware of theo’s unpleasant history with love prior to meeting lila. “and everyone at the studio loves the ring. they’re so jealous,” theo remarked with a smile, quickly modeling her ring all over again.

[waterdroplet02]

What are their names? Are there reasons for this?

ahhh, trying to be sleazy and get a full list of OCs from me with this broad-as-hell question, aren't you?

well, lucky for you, it's working!!

you have!!:

Water, my most direct self-insert, a waterslime that's the typical 'unlikely hero' stereotype, except he's *actually* incapable and messes everything up in most of the timelines

Water {Wellspring Clinic}, the same waterslime, except he starts a hospital out of spite instead of becoming one of the fifteen guardians of the earth

Flect, a young bird person who'd been shunned by the rest of his family for not being born with wings, to the point of being disowned by them, and ended up finding himself under the care of Water instead

Tarity, a four-armed Tiefling with a kind heart and desire to help people; she'd become this way after a younger life of being discriminated for having more limbs

Vair, an abstract ghost-like being from another plane of the universe who just vibes and can form weird magical laser beams through re-arranging his limbs

Merix, a pessimistic foxperson that literally could not care less, who currently takes up the role of janitor in Wellspring Clinic after having to get digital prosthetics and needing consistent maintenance for them

Gess, formerly a girl with an interest in strange, magical rocks; atleast, until she one day dies in her sleep with a pink rock on her bedstand, and wakes up with her soul encased within it. said rock is now a necklace worn by Vair

Willow {Dimensional}, the same human boy except in a future where he keeps finding himself through different rifts and ending up in all sorts of worlds and dimensions, attaining multiple god-given curses and magical enhancements, and learning far more than a boy from a medieval fantasy era should. oh and also he's pet so many things.

Willow, a human boy from a medieval fantasy era who's sole desire in life is to pet as many different things as he can. that's it. he does whatever he can to get his hands on the head of everything and everyone he comes across, and keeps track of everything in a notebook he keeps with him. used as a DnD character of mine in a few sessions. yes, he has caused plenty of trouble. especially when a foxgirl goddess appeared before the party.

Nallu and Mito, a pair of candle-people siblings who are just trying to get by

Sepra {Space}, a leader of a criminal space group, and an enthusiast of chemistry, alchemy, and all things poison.

Jylliere {Space}, a member of the aforementioned crime group and co-worker of Sepra, who specializes in hexes and curses and the supernatural

Ensayo {Space}, a roboticist second and botanist first, who used to be a member of the crime group, up until she creates a killer robot that dismantles the group from the inside out of spite for not having more.. magical powers like her other co-workers. is currently on the run from the previous two characters for, y'know, destroying the crime group

MIJOPA {Space}, an AI and travel buddy of Ensayo, created to help maintain the ship she uses to get around, and the various plants onboard. despite being a roughly fully-formed AI, it speaks like an internet user from 2006 types, and it's a furry

...and that should be everyone i want to talk about? i have more characters, but i don't feel like talking about em yet! they're either used in a personal writing project of mine i want to share at some point, or just forgotten about! ...i need to write these things down.

in the meanwhile, though, feel free to ask about literally any of these guys!!! i'll be Absolutely happy to rant my ass off about any of them! sorry for your notifications in the future.

...oh, and for the second half of the ask, um. i forgot. Lol