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dreamwritesimagines · 5 days

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The Eye of the Hurricane [17] - Disagreements

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Petty fights can start out of nowhere.

Word Count: 2800

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, stabbing, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

Waking up and not finding Bucky in bed next to you wasn’t unfamiliar to you.

He always woke up before you, but this was the first time you were hearing a second, very familiar voice booming through the house and you sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes.

What on earth was your father doing in your apartment this early on in the morning?

You pushed the covers off of you and looked around the room for Alpine but she wasn’t there either. Grabbing the first thing you found -which turned out to be one of Bucky’s crisp white button up shirts- you pulled it over your tank top and shorts, then went downstairs, following the voices.

“If this has been your plan all along,” your father’s stern voice reached your ear from Bucky’s office, “I swear to God—”

“I don’t have any plans,” Bucky’s much calmer voice replied and you pulled your brows together, approaching the doorframe but still shielding yourself from their gaze. Alpine meowed when she saw you, running to you but neither of them seemed to notice it.

“No?” your father asked. “So this is not some sort of elaborate plot to take over my territory?”

“Not at all.”

“Then why was she having a briefing with Rogers?”

“Because I don’t think my wife should be kept out of the business entirely,” Bucky said as you bent down to scratch at Alpine’s head before straightening your back again. “It’s the new generation, we do things differently now.”

Your father let out a furious breath.

“Listen,” he said. “I don’t care what you do with your own business, but if you’re putting ideas into my daughter’s head—”

“Arthur, she’s smart as fuck, you do realize that?” Bucky snapped, making you smirk. “There’s no idea I can put into her head that she hasn’t thought about to begin with.”

“Not to mention,” you said and stepped into the office, making both of them turn to look at you. “She has a phone. So if you wanted to see me, you could just let me know.”

Your father gritted his teeth and stole a look at Bucky. “Give us a minute.”

If it were anyone else, you were sure they would be hurrying off to the door because you had seen your father intimidate countless men throughout your life, but Bucky didn’t seem intimidated in the slightest as he leaned back to his desk.

“This is my house,” he replied, making your father blink a couple of times.

“And I’d like a moment alone with my daughter.”

Bucky turned to look at you as if silently asking if you wanted him to leave and you shook your head, then crossed your arms.

“Anything you want to say, you can say it in front of my husband,” you told him, making Bucky grin proudly. “So?”

Your father’s glare at you was enough to make the sudden chill of nervousness shoot through you, but you didn’t let it show on your face as he shook his head.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Nothing,” you said. “I literally woke up to you guys’ yelling to be honest—”

“Having a meeting with Rogers,” he cut you off impatiently as if he didn’t have the time for your jokes. “What is that about?”

You let a smirk pull your lips.

“Did Ian come and cry to you about it?” you asked. “Honestly.”

“He did let me know, yes,” he said. “As he was supposed to. Seeing that you weren’t planning on telling me about it, I’m glad he did.”

“You have your messenger boy there already,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “It’s clear you don’t need me to tell you anything.”

He took a deep breath like he was trying his hardest to stay calm and you stole a look at Bucky who gave you an assuring smile, watching you two.

“Sweetheart,” he said, the slight condescending tone in his voice making you clench your jaw. “I know that you want to be a part of the business, and Bucky is for some reason fueling this nonsense, but—”

“He’s not fueling anything,” you growled. “I happen to have my own mind, unlike what you seem to think.”

“Y/N—”

“I mean who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

“Okay!” Bucky cut you two off before your father could answer. “Can I suggest we all calm down before anyone says anything they might regret?”

Both you and your father looked at him before turning to glare at each other again and your father pursed his lips, heaving a sigh.

“I’m not trying to patronize you,” he said and you raised your brows.

“Might be too late for that.”

“But I need you to be safe,” he said, making Bucky frown for the first time. “And becoming a part of the business…”

“To repeat, I can make my own decisions.”

“I’m not putting her in danger, Arthur,” Bucky said, his voice calm despite the stern expression on his face. “You know I would never.”

“Right,” your father scoffed and gave you a warning look. “Y/N, I mean it. What you’re trying to do—”

“What makes you think I’m trying to do anything?”

“Because I wrote the playbook you’re following,” your father replied. “I taught you every single trick, and now you’re going to turn around and treat me like I’m clueless?”

You clicked your tongue, tilting your head.

“I’m not doing anything that you haven’t been doing with me for years now,” you said. “You pushed me out of the picture, you’ve been treating me with kid gloves and you have the audacity to give me that speech right now?”

He ran a hand over his face.

“I’m only doing what your mother would like, for you.”

You let out a breath, crossing your arms over your chest.

“No,” you said. “You’re doing what you would like, for me. And I’m done letting you.”

You could see a muscle in his jaw ticking as he glared at you for a couple of seconds, then took a deep breath.

“We will talk later when you’re calmer,” he said and stormed out of the office before you heard the front door slam. You rolled your eyes and turned to Bucky who gave you a tight-lipped smile.

“Good morning,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“Are you?” you asked back and Bucky waved a hand in the air.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Hungry though. Breakfast?”

You huffed out a laugh and nodded your head.

“Yes please,” you said. “Jesus, what a morning.”

It wasn’t that you kept the fact that you were meeting Ethan this afternoon a secret, it was just that you didn’t think Bucky needed to know about it. This marriage was fake yes, and it wasn’t like you were having a secret affair meeting, you two were just friends and it was a normal gather up with your friend.

Or at least, that’s what you had been trying to convince yourself of the whole morning.

You drummed your fingernails on the table and reached out to grab your cup to take a sip of your latte, but lowered it when the wind bells by the door chimed and your gaze fell on Ethan. He looked around the café, then gave you a small smile and approached you as you stood up.

“Hey,” he said, giving you a curt hug and you smiled as he pulled back, then sat down again.

“Hi,” you said. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you two,” he said as he sat down and ordered a coffee. “How have you been?”

“Good,” you said. “You?”

“Busy a bit. You look—” he paused for a moment when his eyes fell upon your wedding ring. “Married.”

You let out a nervous laugh and heaved a sigh.

“Mm hm.”

He pursed his lips together and took a deep breath.

“I owe you an apology,” he said, making you shake your head.

“Ethan…”

“I do,” he said. “I’m—It was stupid to say all that shit. Trust me, I wanted to text and apologize so many times, I just didn’t think you wanted to hear my voice.”

You rolled your eyes at him in a lighthearted manner.

“Ethan, you happen to be the only person in my life who’s not…” you trailed off and he gave you a small smile.

“Who’s not following the same career path?”

You clicked your tongue. “That’s one way to put it,” you said, making him chuckle. “So yeah, I reacted badly as well. I was very tense when we had that conversation.”

He offered his hand. “Truce then?”

You scoffed a laugh, then reached out to shake his hand.

“Everyone knows I’m a big fan of truce,” you said and he grinned, then thanked the waitress when she brought his coffee.

“So,” he said after taking a sip of his coffee. “How is it then? Do guns go off when you and Barnes enter the building or…?”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully. “Ethan.”

“Do you guys do that Mr. and Mrs. Smith shit?”

“Wrong movie reference.”

He held up his hands, gesturing surrender.

“Does he still dislike me?”

The correct and honest answer would be that Bucky didn’t even think about Ethan, at least in your opinion. Not only did he have bigger problems what with HYDRA and their attacks in the city, his dynamic with the other bosses were bound to get tense with you officially becoming a part of the business.

So, he was probably too busy to sit around and think about Ethan.

“Nah I don’t think so,” you managed to say, leaning back. “That night at the club, I know he was an asshole but we were…things were weird between us then.”

“I’d say so,” he said, and licked his lips. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you said. “As long as I can answer it hypothetically, that is.”

“Is it real?”

That managed to make you pull back slightly and you blinked a couple of times before heaving a sigh.

“I don’t understand what you—”

“Because I’d like to think that we had something, back at college,” he said, making your brows furrow. “And that night at the club, you weren’t looking at him like…I could’ve sworn you hated him, Y/N.”

“Like I said, things were weird between us then,” you muttered, turning the coffee cup in this saucer and he shook his head.

“And it changed that fast?” he asked. “Listen, I’m going to shut up if you don’t want me to talk about this, but if it’s not real—”

“If it’s not real, you’ll save me?” you asked with a scoff. “I’m not some princess in a castle Ethan.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware.”

“Hypothetically, even if it weren’t—”

“Hypothetically,” he cut you off. “I’d happily wait for your divorce.”

That made you stop talking as your eyes snapped up to his and you gawked at him in a dumbfounded silence.

Ah.

Alright, this was…

The idea was quite lovely, to be honest. As you had told Becca, being with Ethan would be so simple, he was a civilian so there would be no ulterior motives or plotting or any of the tension you knew each and every couple in business had. Not only that, but Bucky had broken your heart so terribly all those years ago and you were sure that if you decided to see or treat this marriage like a real marriage, he would do it again.

Unlike Ethan.

Dear God, it would be so peaceful.

But you knew you couldn’t deal with whatever this was when you were going for your father’s crown. This right here was a distraction, and you couldn’t entertain the idea of a distraction.

You clicked your tongue and sat up straighter, checking the time.

“Sorry, I just remembered I had this thing,” you muttered, desperate to get away and he stood up as you did.

“Y/N,” he said apologetically. “I’m sorry if that sounded—”

“No no,” you said with a shake of your head. “I don’t…I get what you mean, I really do. And as much as I know you mean well, saying this now is very disrespectful to Bucky so I’d rather if we didn’t speak about this again.”

He pursed his lips and nodded his head.

“Understood,” he said. “I won’t, I promise.”

“I’ll see you later, okay?” you asked and gave him a short hug, then walked out of the café, your heart beating fast.

“What the fuck was that?” you muttered to yourself as you got into your car and let out a breath, then started driving.

As you walked into the Barnes skyscraper, you were still trying to comprehend just why the hell, out of all things to say to Ethan, you had chosen ‘disrespect to Bucky’ as your answer. What Ethan had said wasn’t even so bad, you had been reminding Bucky that you two would eventually get a divorce and even talk about all the things you’d do on your second wedding and marriage to someone else, but when Ethan so much as mentioned waiting for your divorce, you had decided to draw the line?

This was rather absurd.

You rolled your shoulders back as someone escorted you to the elevator and pressed the button for you and you checked your reflection in the mirror until you got to the top floor and the doors opened.

“I can find my way, thank you,” you said told the bodyguard and walked out of the elevator to make your way to Bucky’s office.

“Is he in?” you asked the receptionist who stood up when she saw you.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Great, thank you,” you said and knocked on the door, then opened it to step inside. Bucky was sitting behind his desk, his jaw clenched and his eyes fixed on the computer screen, but he turned his head when he saw you and raised his brows.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you said and approached the couch to fling yourself on it, crossing your legs. “So my father didn’t call me after this morning, has George called you?”

“No.”

The curt answer made you tilt your head and you frowned at him.

“Have you heard from anyone else?” you asked. “Because I feel like—”

“How was lunch with Ethan?”

That made you stop talking and you raised your brows, your stomach doing a flip.

“Are you having me followed?” you asked sharply through your teeth and he let out a bitter chuckle.

“I don’t need to have you followed,” he said. “You met the guy in my territory in case you forgot.”

You licked your lips, crossing your arms defiantly.

“So what, am I supposed to report back to you every single thing I do now?”

“I think I’d like to know if you’re meeting your ex -who by the way, still wants to fuck you- like a week after our wedding, yeah,” he shot back, making your jaw drop.

“Easy there, cowboy.”

“Y/N we had an agreement—”

“Does it look like I’m sleeping with him from where you’re sitting?” you asked. “I know the agreement. You don’t sleep with anyone else and neither do I, until our divorce.”

“Then?”

“Then I can have lunch with whoever I want.”

“To repeat, he wants to—”

“It was a friendly lunch and he just apologized for reacted badly when I told him we would be getting married,” you defended yourself hurriedly, knowingly leaving out the part Ethan said about your potential divorce and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Oh I wonder why he reacted badly to us getting married,” he said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “What could it be? Any ideas?”

God damn it.

“This is not even a real marriage,” you hissed as you leaned in, careful not to speak too loud in case anyone outside could hear. “Or did you forget about that part?”

“Did you forget about the part we’re supposed to act madly in love?” he asked back, his voice calm unlike yours and even though he did have a point, the petulant part of you refused to acknowledge it, so you did the first thing you thought of and got up from the couch.

“I’m done talking about this.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m done I said!” you snapped over your shoulder and walked out of the office without looking back, making your way to the elevator. Your heart was beating in your ears and you grabbed your phone, and touched Becca’s name as the doors closed, the elevator moving.

“Hey,” Becca’s voice reached you. “What’s up?”

“I snapped at Ethan for disrespecting Bucky and then snapped at Bucky within the same hour,” you said and she paused for a moment, then hummed.

“I’m getting the wine ready,” she said. “Grab some sushi on your way here?”

“You got it,” you said and hung up the phone, then leaned your head back to the elevator wall. “What the actual fuck am I doing?”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mob! bucky #mafia!bucky barnes x reader #mafia!bucky barnes #mafia!bucky #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader #mob bucky barnes x reader #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky #mob boss!bucky #mob boss bucky barnes #mob au #mob!au

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takemebacktowheniwassane · 26 days

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i've been seeing a lot of falsettos posts recently deconstructing the fandoms beliefs and firstly

holy fuck thank you, i try to steer clear of fandom (and fandom-izing thereof) drama but this is getting a lot more visible recently so here's some little tidbits for you

whizzer brown is not an unflawed character!

okay so i haven't seen enough dissecting this but!!! in the chess game!

the whole point of marvin using that game to determine the ending of their relationship is because he suspects whizzer is constantly deceiving him and wants to prove it.

whizzer LITERALLY proves him right!

he asks marvin to help him along (yes i know he says he doesn't want help, hear me out, it's a little more complex than that) and takes advantage of the fact that marvin is- like- infatuated with him.

he draws him into a sense of false security then starts throwing accusations at him ("since you need a man!" "what?" "who's 'brainy'," "or witty, move.") until hes able to win, which he does with ease because he's been using marvin having this idea that he isn't smart against him.

of course, marvin's side of this isn't the best either but honestly, for once the fandom should focus on a different character when they think 'insane asshole'. typically we should also probably change our perspectives a little to be more unbiased cuz fr guys, this is getting really.. annoying.

i understand he's the most visibly flawed but that doesn't excuse constantly picking the worst parts of this musical (without other context, btw) to use against him.

and this post certainly isn't here to excuse anyone either i've just got a lot of opinions that i wanted to share while falsettos is.. trending? right?

2. marvin's (headcanoned but still somewhat researched) autism

this one isn't brought up as much but when i do see it around, it's kind of a skewed viewpoint.

while rewatching bits of the proshot i realized a lot of different neurodivergent traits that he shows-

he's helpless during I Never Wanted to Love You and is childish and regressive when he's upset (not every autistic person is like this either, i know this is a bit of a touchy subject so i just wanted to add that).

usually when people depict it i see it either toned down or joked about which is fine when all in good fun, and when its done respectfully.

not here to attack anyone, just here to point it out and say that yes :) he most likely is neurodivergent, but despite that his actions aren't condoned. he's still kinda a dick who needs to get his shit together

3. ..the lesbians also have shit going on?

just putting this out there- I DON'T SEE ENOUGH FOR THE LESBIANS! OR TRINA!

the girls in this musical are like thoroughly neglected and i think that's kind of shitty just assuming the fact that william finn put them in to demonstrate how gender roles put people in degrading positions (and he even makes it more prevalent by showing marvin as something like a misogynistic character who forces whizzer into more feminine roles to show the audience what woman have to/had to go through in society).

anyways, the lesbians aren't just there guys. they have a plotline too. in Something Bad is Happening, you derive a lot from charlotte singing about the outbreak of HIV/AIDS and realize how she operates on a daily basis (she's passionate about her work and takes every bad day as a hit to her life and career, explaining in a way that as a black, jewish, lesbian, FEMALE doctor in this time, everything that goes wrong is immediately brought down on her so much more than it would as any straight white male pharmacist-).

cordelia on the other hand has to handle the fact that her girlfriend is so adamant about her work ethic that she can't actually be super present in their relationship at times like that.

but either way she still sticks by her and is constantly trying to be supportive and endearing despite feeling like she's not amounting to her gf who's basically a hero in her eyes.

i kinda just wanted to bring that up because they mean a lot to me and they don't get enough love from the fanbase, thank you for listening to my TED talk <3

#why did I spend 20 minutes typing this #rant #whizzer brown #falsettos #marvin falsettos #charlotte falsettos #cordelia falsettos #hhhh

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science-lings · 9 months

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okay this has been going through my mind for days and I have to get my thoughts out before I explode

Disclaimer, this is not talking about a specific artist/person and would never condone or participate in anon hate or online bullying for any reason but especially this one.

I get why people are mad about Link being portrayed as this buff, hypermasculine, tall guy. I am too (again don’t fucking attack people over it though) and it seems like such an infuriating way to change the character just to fit into some ideal of hypermasculine attractiveness or to make a ship fall into a more hetero lense by making him a decent foot taller than whatever girl he’s being paired with.

The world of video games and action movies and every form of media ever is extremely saturated with male characters that are swole and manly and whatever other descriptors people are trying to push onto Link that don’t fit into his actual character. There are so many characters out there that already fit this male standard and having a clearly androgynous elf guy was like a breath of fresh air.

Link was literally designed to be a character whose lines on gender were blurred, ‘a girl with a masculine touch or a guy with a feminine touch’ so that anyone could project themselves onto him. His physical design in botw/totk was specifically made to be feminine enough to wear a certain outfit to pass as a woman (which includes a nearly mandatory cutscene where he puts on the clothes and blushes after being called pretty, like you have to be blind to think that its an experience that he doesn’t like at all) and in totk there are a bunch of outfits made for Link that are blatantly gnc, ones that are practically dresses, include nail polish and lipstick, you can even dye his hair bright and vivid colors and that’s half way to giving him new pronouns. The whole reason Linkle isn’t included in more mainline loz games was because her existence would force Link into a gender dichotomy, if there's a clearly female version of the main hero, that means the main hero has to be a man, and they would rather abandon a potential reoccurring character than make Link conform to a gender binary.

So pardon me when it feels disingenuous and even malicious for him to be morphed into these clear masculine ideals, where he towers over any female romantic partner (even when in canon he is regularly depicted as noticeably shorter than her) or even in m/m fanworks he’s really beefed up, perhaps to make the scene feel more gay or something.

Perhaps it’s because his more twink-y/ femboy body type is so heavily sexualized (though obviously when people are sculping abs on him it’s totally not because they’re horny about it) and that’s an issue in itself that bothers me. But it’s just so tiring to see one of the very few popular main characters who is short and feminine and androgynous be molded into just another bland muscle-headed action hero over and over and over again.

I’m not mad at the creators for portraying him differently than how I like him portrayed, I’m mad because we really do get so few characters like him in good popular media, and to be honest, I really like him the way that he is. I love that he’s tiny and has long hair and has the option to dress any way the player likes. It seems a little distasteful to make him taller than a female love interest just because that’s how straight couples have to be, there’s just never been a real straight couple where the guy is shorter than the girl, that’s just Impossible! (/s)

#i doubt anyone read this all i just needed to get it off my chest and this felt like the best place to do it #again i don't think it's a reason to bully or even just say mean things to people over their portrayal of link #but i get why it's so frustrating to people #like... link is lowkey a hero for trans guys who aren't tall and aren't ending up as masculine as they had hoped #but he's still exceptionally capable and he's still there to be an image for people who see themselves in him #idk this is just a rant #rant #zelink #loz #botw #totk

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gigabyte-flare · 1 year

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There's No Escape (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: You find out the hard way what happens when Leon doesn't get what he wants, after all, actions have consequences, don't they?

Pairing: yandere!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 4.8k

If any of the warnings below trigger you, please kindly pass on this fic

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life; if you feel this way, please go touch grass

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL YEET YOU INTO THE GODDAMN SUN. Thank you!

Warnings (may not apply to all parts): Sex, gaslighting, swearing, stalking, acts of violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping, pet names (baby, doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), PTSD triggers, unprotected sex, forced breeding, daddy kink, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), choking, overstimulation, knife play, gunplay, masterbation, drugging. Long story short, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. More warnings may be added in the future

THIS PART CONTAINS EXPLICIT VIOLENCE AND GORE, READER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED

Tags: @lipglossanon, @ghostkennedy, @hxllfiredoll, @nexyswrites, @ilookatlater, @shroomietrip, @dollrxst, @lomaeuwu (Shoot me a message or an ask if you want to be added to the list!)

A/N: Ok first off, I did not intend to make this part this long, but I was on a roll and the words just kept coming out (plus I wanted to get to the good stuff, you guys have waited long enough). Thank you again for all the support and love on this extremely self indulgent piece. I tried to proof read this one as best as I could without going cross eyed, so again, please excuse any grammatical errors. Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You both sat in the living room of your apartment in silence. It was some ungodly hour in the morning, you didn’t bother to check. Neither of you could sleep. You both ensured that the front door was dead-bolted and all the windows were locked before settling into the living room. You couldn’t help but feel guilt wash over you as you silently cried. It was never your intention to drag Becky into this mess. You figured Leon would just move on. Clearly you were mistaken.

“Listen, Becky, I’m really sorry,” you say, your voice hoarse from crying.

“Sorry for what?”

“I put you in danger by moving in with you. If I knew Leon would be pulling this crap, I wouldn’t have come here.”

Becky let out a loud sigh, “we’re best friends. You would have done the same for me.”

You nod silently, bringing your knees to your chest and hugging them.

“What I can’t wrap my head around is how he figured out where you worked so fast. Clearly that ‘prank call’ the other day was him. What did you say he did for a living again?”

You swallow hard before answering, “he works for the gov--”

Your eyes widen. The word “government” flashes in your mind like a curse. How could you have been so stupid? It’s a wonder he hadn’t tracked you down sooner.

“He works for the what now?”

“The government.”

You both stare at each other, the silence deafening.

“And… what exactly does he do for the government?”

“He’s some kind of special ops agent. Military training and all that…”

You watch Becky rub her face into her hands, exhaling loudly.

“Becky, I’m sorry…”

“It’s a miracle you’re not dead,” Becky’s muffled voice responds from under her hands before dropping them, “what the hell did you see in him anyway?”

“He was wonderful at first,” you reply, pulling out your phone and opening the photo gallery.

You scroll back to six months ago, when you and Leon first started dating. There were a million pictures of him and the two of you together. He wasn’t exactly smiling in the pictures, but you could tell he loved you. But, then, you notice subtle details in the photos; the way he was gripping your waist too tightly in one photo, his cold eyes in the next. There was one photo that stood out to you, he had you in a vice grip with one arm with his nose buried in your hair while you laughed. It was a candid photo but you couldn’t help but be unsettled by it now, given your current circumstances. This man was a walking red flag and you totally missed it.

“Maybe I should move,” you suddenly say.

“Absolutely not!” Becky exclaims, “we’re in this together! It’s way too dangerous for you to be out there on your own!”

“What am I supposed to do?! It’s not like I can go to the police and be like ‘Hi yes? I have a trained government agent that’s stalking me’ now, can I? They’ll never believe me!”

Becky shook her head, “I don’t know what we’re going to do but we’ll figure out something. I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Becky.”

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It was a bright, sunny day in Boston. You were coming out of the Dunkin’ Donuts right down the street from your apartment with a tray with two iced coffees as you made your way down the sidewalk. Your cellphone began to ring, you pulled it out to answer it.

Caller ID Unknown

You roll your eyes and reject the call. Before you even had a chance to put it back in your pocket, it began ringing again. The ID still said Caller ID Unknown. Again, you reject the call, but again, it immediately starts ringing. Annoyed now, you answer it. You hear a voice before you even have a chance to speak.

“Is one of those iced coffees for me? You shouldn’t have, princess.”

“Leon?!” You stop dead in your tracks and look around to see if you see him anywhere, but you don’t.

You hear him lick his lips, “Did you wear that sundress on purpose? You know that’s my favorite one, baby.”

“You fucking pig, leave me alone!”

“Now, now… what have I told you about swearing at Daddy? What a bad girl you are.”

Your heart is pounding out of your chest as you continue to whip your head around to see if you can see him, but you don’t, which makes you panic even more.

“Where the fuck are you Leon?! Stop hiding!”

You hear him laugh on the other end. Pissed off now, you hang up on him and run down the street, being mindful of the iced coffees in the tray. You had to get back to the apartment. You didn’t care what Becky said, you were moving out. You had no clue where you would go, but you knew you had to get as far away from here as possible. You’d drive to the ends of the earth if you had to.

You get to your apartment and rush up to the front door, digging your keys out from your pocket while precariously balancing the iced coffee tray in your other hand. You finally get a hold of your keys and start opening the front door.

“Becky, listen, we need to talk--”

You stop mid sentence as the door swings completely open, letting out an eerie squeak. You let out a loud gasp, dropping the tray and the iced coffees as you bring both hands to cover your mouth in shock.

There is blood everywhere.

Your eyes darted from the kitchen cabinets, to the island, to the fridge; everything had blood splattered all over it. Your eyes eventually settle on something laying on the floor. It was Becky, her eyes open wide and her mouth open in a silent scream as blood seeped from the large gash going across her neck.

You’re frozen in place, you can’t take your eyes off Becky’s lifeless form. You weren’t even gone for an hour; you were just talking to her this morning when she mentioned she was dying for an iced coffee. She had a school project to work on so she wasn’t able to go with you to go get Dunks like you normally would.

Hesitantly, you walk through the door and approach Becky’s body, a small part of you hoping she was somehow still alive. Your whole body trembles as you stand before her. Suddenly, you hear the front door squeak and slam shut, causing you to jump and turn around.

You see Leon, his hand holding the front door shut as he flips his beloved combat knife in his other hand. He lets out a low chuckle as he walks up to you, bringing the blood soaked knife to his lips, licking the blade clean before sheathing it.

“Baby, I didn’t want to have to kill Becky, but she left me no choice. You understand, right?”

“Fuck you!” your voice is like venom as you run over to one of the cabinets, whipping it open.

You start grabbing glasses and throwing them at him, which he effortlessly deflects with his hand as he continues to stalk towards you. You bolt from the kitchen and attempt to get into the living room, however you slip on Becky’s blood, falling to the floor, smacking your face hard against the hardwood floor.

Now dazed, you attempt to get back up but feel Leon grab you from behind by your underarms, standing you up and holding you against his body.

“You naughty girl,” Leon growled, kissing the back of your right earlobe, “Daddy’s going to have to teach you some manners.”

You desperately struggle in his grasp, however his grip on you is relentless. Looking out the window as you struggle, you realize the window has a clear view of the Dunks that you had just come from.

He was inside the apartment when he called.

“You fucking monster!” you scream, slamming your foot down on one of his boots; he doesn’t flinch.

“Oh princess… it seems you already forgot the rules, haven’t you? That’s fine. I have other ways of keeping you under control.”

You hear him grab something from his pocket and before you can react, you feel a sharp pain in the right side of your neck, making you flinch.

“What the hell was that?!” you cry out, feeling a strange sensation start to overtake your entire body.

“Shhhhhh it’s ok, it’s just to help you relax. Daddy’s got you, you’re safe with me sweetheart,” Leon purrs, kissing the back of your head as his hand runs through your hair.

Your movements quickly became sluggish, subconsciously grateful Leon was holding you up, otherwise you would have collapsed onto the floor. Your eyelids were getting heavy and before you knew it, the embrace of darkness took you.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It was well into the evening before Leon finished cleaning the mess left behind from Becky. One of the first things he did was wrap her body in a blanket and weigh it down with a chain and cinder block before dumping her into the bay. Thanks to his connections in the government, Becky would soon be erased from existence. You were safe in his Wrangler, sleeping soundly. Even if you somehow woke up from the tranquilizer, you wouldn’t be able to open the doors from the inside.

He then began gathering some of your things. He grabbed some of your clothes, toiletries and some of your books and your gaming console. There might be times he has to go out on assignments, so you would need something to do while he’s gone; he hated the thought of leaving you though. Once he was confident he had everything he needed, he locked up the apartment, got into his Jeep and started the engine. He had a very long drive ahead of him.

His destination was a plot of land just above the Northernmost part of Baxter State Park in Maine. He had purchased property up there and built a large cabin shortly after he got back from Spain. While he told you he was out on an assignment a few weeks ago, he was actually up at the cabin getting things ready to move you in. His original plan was to get back to the apartment in D.C. and bring you up there to your new home, however your disappearing act had put a wrench in that plan. He was thankful he trusted his gut and put the GPS tracker in your Renegade.

Thankfully, traffic was light, so he was able to get onto I-95 North relatively quickly. He glances over at you, sleeping peacefully. He could see your eyes moving underneath your eyelids.

“I wonder what you’re dreaming about, sweetie,” he says softly, using the back of his fingers to stroke your cheek before returning his attention back to the road, “I hope it’s me.”

He reaches up to the sun visor above him, grabbing a mix CD from the CD holder and putting it into the CD player. The song “Bullets” by Creed began to play. As the song picked up, he sang quietly to himself as his right hand moved from the stick shift to your thigh, rubbing it tenderly.

As he drove, his mind drifted towards the future. He imagined you finally coming around, living happily together, maybe even getting married. He imagined at least a couple little Kennedys running around the cabin, playing tag or whatever it was kids do these days. He imagined you in the kitchen making dinner and him walking up behind you, placing his arms around your waist to rub your belly that would be pregnant with another little Kennedy; the picture perfect family. He could feel himself grow hard, but he would not stop to indulge himself; perhaps when you both finally got to the cabin. He hoped by then you’d be awake.

He was looking forward to finally making his dream a reality.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Your eyes slowly flutter open and the first thing you feel is the skull crushing headache you have. You wince and try to sit up. You quickly realize you’re in bed. Was all that with Leon a dream? Was Becky alive still? You swing your legs around to get out of bed but you're jerked back by something cold around your neck. You blink, becoming hyper aware of your surroundings. You realize, too, that you were now in jeans and a t-shirt. This is not your bedroom at the apartment. You reach your hands to your neck and find you’re fitted with a metal collar that is attached to a chain, you look behind you; the chain is bolted into the wall.

“Oh what the fuck…”

You try to pull on the chain, but the bolts don’t budge, that’s when you realize your hands and ankles are also bound together by chains. You start hyperventilating.

What’s going on, why am I chained to the wall? Why am I chained in general? Where the fuck am I?

“You’re finally awake.”

Your head snaps up at the sound of Leon’s voice; you didn’t even hear him approach. He’s standing in the doorway to the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, only wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that barely clung to his hips. His blue eyes gaze at you longingly.

“You’ve been an awfully bad girl, so Daddy had to punish you.” he says, his eyebrows furrowing in anger.

“Where’s Becky?!”

“Becky? I don’t know anyone named Becky,” Leon says in a ‘as a matter of fact’ tone.

“You fucking liar! You fucking killed her!”

Leon charged over to you, slapping you across the face. You cry out, holding your hand up to your face as your cheek stung from the aftershock of the slap.

“What did I tell you about swearing at Daddy, you dumb bitch?!”

You start sobbing uncontrollably, your body shaking, “I’m… I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry what?”

“I’m sorry… Daddy…”

“That’s much better,” Leon cooed, stroking the top of your head, “such a good girl.”

You absolutely loathe calling him ‘Daddy,’ it made you sick to your stomach. Leon sat on the bed next to you, continuing to stroke the top of your head.

“Do we need to go over the rules again, babygirl?”

You gave him a nod.

“Use your words, sweetie.”

“Yes…” you swallow hard, “Daddy…”

“Alright,” he gave you a quick kiss on the forehead, “you remember the most important one, don’t you?”

“Be respectful, no swearing or backtalk… I have to listen to what you tell me to do.”

“That’s right. And?”

“I address you as… Daddy… I think you said sir was ok too but you prefer…” you wince like you have a bad taste in your mouth, “Daddy.”

“Such a smart girl, what else?”

“I can’t leave the apartment… erm…” you glance around the room, “house… without your permission.”

Leon gives you a gentle smile as he strokes your cheek, “see? You remember the rules just fine. However, Daddy had to make a new rule now that we’re here, ok?”

You swallow hard, your anxiety skyrocketing.

“Remember, you need to answer when I’m talking to you.”

“Ok… Daddy…”

He grabs onto the collar and pulls you to him, “when you misbehave, you go into the timeout room until Daddy thinks you’re ready to come out.”

“Is this… is this the timeout room?”

“So perceptive! Yes, baby, this is the timeout room,” he replies before giving you a kiss on the lips.

You reciprocate the kiss as much as it kills you inside to do so. He releases the collar and stands up from the bed. He stops at the threshold of the room, looking back at you.

“You must be so hungry, sweetheart, do you want Daddy to make you something to eat?”

“Yes, please.”

Leon narrows his eyes again in a silent threat.

“Yes please, Daddy…”

Seemingly satisfied with your response, he turns and leaves the room, shutting the timeout room door behind him. You take a deep breath, taking in your surroundings. The room had no windows or clock, so you had no way of gauging what time it was. You look up into the corner and see a camera, you reckon that’s how he knew you were awake; it probably has a motion detector in it. You take stock of your current situation. One saving grace was you were at least fully clothed, but you imagined that wasn’t going to last long. You couldn’t help but regret leaving D.C. to begin with; yeah you were trapped in an apartment in D.C., but you at least weren’t chained to a goddamn wall and Becky was alive.

Becky… I’m so sorry…

You hoped she at least put up a fight. Judging by the gruesome scene you stumbled upon, she had. However, you knew that Leon was practically unstoppable, you remember specifically his kicks were especially deadly. He told you stories about how he snapped people’s necks simply by roundhouse kicking them. However, from the looks of things he simply used his knife.

At one point, you thought that was so hot.

You bury your head into your hands and cry. You felt completely helpless and you hated it. You hated Leon with every fiber of your being.

“Oh sweetheart, please don’t cry,” you hear Leon say.

Again, you snap your head back up and find him in the doorway. He had a plate with a fork as well as a glass of water. As he approaches you, you see that he had made you waffles.

“I made you your favorite. Daddy loves you so much.”

“What time is it… D-Daddy?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

“It’s just before 11, just in time for breakfast, sweetie,” he replies as he hands you the plate and fork.

“W-Where are we exactly…?”

He narrows his eyes for a moment, however, his expression quickly softens as he answers, “we’re home, that’s all you need to know, babygirl,” he brings his lips to your temple, giving you a soft kiss.

You fiddle with the fork in your right hand for a second, contemplating if you should try to stab it into his neck. Unfortunately the damn thing is made of that biodegradable shit, you foresee that ending badly. On top of that, it was one of those safety forks that you couldn’t break and turn into a sharp object, like the ones they give to inmates in prison.

That’s what this place is, not home, but a fucking prison.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It’s late; the only thing lighting the living room is the soft glow of the TV as Leon mindlessly surfs through channels in his recliner. The picture was a tad fuzzy since satellite television was the only thing Leon could get working out here, but he didn’t mind. He suddenly came upon an old sitcom, the scene playing out a wife doing the dishes and her husband coming home from work, kissing her on the cheek before taking off his coat. The man’s two children run in, hugging his legs.

Leon felt his heart sink at the sight. There were three things in life that he always wanted: to protect people, to find a nice girl to settle down with and to start a beautiful family. He didn’t really have a family growing up, his biological family was killed having been involved heavily in crime. He was adopted by a police officer, which inspired Leon to become a police officer himself. However, his dream was shattered the night he drove into Raccoon City on his first day being on the force.

To make matters worse, he was immediately taken in by the U.S. Government and interrogated about what happened that night and then ‘asked’ to join a top secret agency, mostly dealing with incidents involving B.O.W.s. His trip to Spain was no different, having been sent there to rescue the president’s daughter. Things were different that time, however, as he was able to get her safely back home after removing the Las Plagas parasite even though he had gotten infected himself in the process. He almost didn’t make it back, but by some miracle, the president’s daughter was able to remove the parasite from him before it completely consumed him.

When he returned from Spain, even though the mission was an overwhelming success, he still felt empty. He had no one to come home to; no wife to kiss him on the cheek and ask him how his day was. No kids to run up to him to give him a hug, to tell him how much they missed their Daddy.

He got up from the recliner abruptly and turned off the TV. He walks up to the timeout room door and slowly opens it. You were sleeping, you looked so peaceful in the low light from the nightlight in the room. He stepped into the room, closing the door quietly behind him before approaching the bed. He sat down next to your sleeping form, watching you for a few minutes. A smile forming on his lips, he runs his hand up your leg gently, causing you to stir in your sleep.

“L-Leon…?” you wake with a yawn, “is it morning? What time is it?”

Leon grew slightly irritated at the fact you didn’t address him correctly, but he let it slide for now.

“Daddy has decided he’s going to let you come out of timeout,” he said softly, “but only if you do something for me.”

You rub your eyes before propping yourself up on one elbow to face him, your eyes still dazed from sleep.

“What do you want me to do…?” you ask, your eyelids still heavy.

He leans over you, putting his lips up to your ear and whispering, “let Daddy fuck a baby into you.”

He hears your breath begin to tremble.

“Please, sweetie, please give Daddy a baby,” Leon continues, practically moaning in your ear.

You shake your head as tears form in your eyes; you sit up and press yourself against the headboard, and you look down at the tent in his sweatpants. Looking down at himself, his right hand goes into his sweatpants, pulling out his throbbing cock, giving himself a couple strokes, precum now dripping from the tip.

“Sweetie look, you’re making him cry. All he wants is to be inside you and give you a baby.”

Again, you shake your head at him, tears dripping off your face.

He frowns, bringing his free hand up to caress your cheek while the other continues to stroke his cock, “there is nothing to be afraid of, Daddy will take such good care of you when you’re pregnant, I promise.”

“Get away from me!” you whimper, pushing his hand away from your face.

Anger begins to boil within him, the frown quickly turning into a scowl. His free hand then grasps your throat, practically choking you. He watches as you struggle against his grasp, desperately trying to breathe but are not able to.

“You’re going to have my baby whether you like it or not, so we can do this the easy way, or the hard way, sweetheart. The choice is yours and I can tell you right now, you will not like the hard way,” he growled, tightening his grip on your throat.

“I… I… I’m….” you try to speak, but his grip on you is too tight.

Leon sees this and loosens his grip on you.

“I-I’m sorry Daddy, I’m really sorry Daddy. I’ll give you a baby, please don’t hurt me…”

A sinister smile overtakes him. He removes his hand from your throat.

“That’s my good girl,” he says, standing up, “you’re gonna make Daddy so happy.”

Leon grabs your jeans, ripping them off your body, only leaving your thin lace panties. He then removes his sweatpants, now completely naked.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he commands.

You quickly comply, propping yourself up on your hands and knees. He kneels onto the bed as he looms over you, pushing you forward into the bed so that your ass is in the air.

“I was going to treat you and eat your pussy out before I pound a baby into you, but since you insist on being a bad girl, we’re skipping the foreplay tonight.”

“I’m sorry D-Daddy!” you cry, your voice muffled into the bed, “I’m sorry for being a bad girl…”

Ignoring you, he can’t help but see the dark spot on your panties; he lets out a low chuckle.

“Look at how wet you already are! And here you are telling me that you don’t want this. Silly girl…”

His fingers grab your panties and rips them off you, tossing them aside. He gazes upon your glistening pussy, unconsciously licking his lips. Grabbing your hips, he buries his mouth into your leaking hole, lapping up your juices. He hears you let out a soft moan.

“Oh fuck… your pussy tastes so good, I know I said I wasn’t going to eat you out, but I couldn’t help myself when your pussy was begging for Daddy’s tongue.”

He sits back up, grasping his cock in one hand while he aligns it up to your entrance. Without warning, he begins vigorously thrusting into you. He grabs your ass with both hands, putting all his energy into every trust. At first, he could hear quiet whimpers come out of you, watching your fingers claw into the sheets. He readjusts himself so that he was kneeling on one knee, giving himself a better angle to pound into your cervix. Now you were letting out loud moans, pushing your hips back to meet his eager thrusts.

“Oh, what a good girl you are! Daddy’s perfect little angel.”

His hands run up the sides of your body, slipping beneath your shirt and grabbing hold of your breasts. You moan his name as he rolls your nipples between his fingers.

Again with you not addressing him correctly…

He lets out a sigh, deciding it was fine, you get so drunk on his cock, so he decided a little lapse in the rules in the heat of passion was fine. Grabbing hold of your chest, he pulls you up so that your back is against him as he continues to pound into your hungry pussy.

“My princess loves Daddy’s cock, doesn’t she? You can’t hide that from me no matter how hard you try,” he growls before pulling out of you and turning you around to face him.

He pushes you back down onto the bed, pushing your legs forward and draping them onto his shoulders. He sheathes himself back into you, leaning in to devour your lips.

“D-Daddy… I’m… I’m… I’m gonna…”

“Don’t cum yet, sweetie, wait and cum with Daddy, ok?”

You nod, letting out a whimper and leaning your head back onto the pillow, your eyes rolling into your head as he continues his assault on your pussy. He can feel that he’s close to his release; in preparation for this his thrusts become short but intoxicatingly deep, causing him to let out a low, animalistic growl.

His growl must have affected you because he felt you instantly cum on his cock, causing him to hit his own release, shooting hot ropes of cum into you as he pressed into you. He held himself there for several minutes until his cock stopped pulsating. He slowly pulled out and looked down at you, admiring his handiwork. He watched his cum start to leak out, using his fingers, he scooped it up and pushed it back into you. He didn’t want to waste a drop.

“Stay like that ok, sweetie? Daddy has to go get the keys to bring you out of timeout.”

Grabbing his sweatpants off the floor, he slips them back on before walking back out into the kitchen. The sun was just starting to come into the windows. He walks up to a safe that’s embedded into the wall; it's the kind with the turn style lock. He inputs the combination, grabbing a couple keys from it before shutting it. He goes back into the bedroom, smiling when he sees you haven’t moved.

What a good girl.

He walks up to the bed, unlocking your collar first before removing the chains from your wrists and ankles. He then picks you up effortlessly, bridal style, taking you out of the timeout room and into the master bedroom. He gently lays you down, giving you a kiss on the forehead. He then climbs into bed next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close, falling asleep within seconds.

Part 4

#there's no escape #gigabyte writes #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy smut

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mysteryshoptls · 2 months

Text

SSR Malleus Draconia - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Malleus: So, this is the Land of Dawning National Museum of Art… It's much more impressive than I had imagined. Very fascinating to see their exhibits touch on varied matters of import.

Malleus: Art galleries in Briar Valley generally feature art exhibits revolving around fae lore. This is a refreshing visit.

Malleus: This place does seem to have a few works of art that I can place, however. And I see that paintings that depict the Thorn Fairy seem to still gather a crowd here.

???: Look at all them surrounding just one person in full force… That's just cowardly.

Malleus: No need to chide them, Spade. It's cruel enough to expect those children of man to hold their own against a great and powerful being.

Deuce: D… DRACONIA-SENPAI!? HELLO, SIR!

Malleus: Hmph, don't bristle so. We can take this prime opportunity to study this painting together.

Malleus: When the Thorn Fairy visited human lands, she was immediately met with animosity…

Malleus: The number of art pieces that depict this very story is numerous, even in Briar Valley. We even had one displayed in the castle I was raised in.

Malleus: When I was a wee lad… My tutors would constantly tell me to grow up to "be a mage as great and powerful as her."

Deuce: Your… tutors!? There were people that could actually teach you something!?

Malleus: Of course. I had some of the finest mages in Briar Valley at my disposal.

Malleus: I often found my history and etiquette lessons to be of great interest… But there was no one who could instruct me in the ways of magic.

Malleus: Of course, that would be because everything from their magical power levels to their actual capabilities were far below me in strength.

Deuce: Wow, that's amazing… Can't believe you were that strong from a young age.

Malleus: That is nothing too surprising. My grandmother possessed formidable magic, and so did my mother, I hear.

Malleus: However, it took me quite some time to fully understand the difference in strength between myself and those around me.

Malleus: "Why are you teaching me something so ridiculously simple?" I'd angrily wail every class. "Are you underestimating me?"

Malleus: Every time I sent a tutor packing, my guardian wouldn't hesitate to scold me mercilessly.

Deuce: You're saying there was someone who could even scold you!? Briar Valley is way too intense…

Malleus: Even I would listen to the advice of a trusted person. When I think back on it, I certainly had my more immature moments.

Malleus: Only incidents such as burning the gardens to a desolate crisp, or destroying castle towers by calling down lightning strikes, however.

Deuce: THOSE ARE HUGE INCIDENTS!!

Deuce: Ack! If I make Draconia-senpai angry now, the museum might be in trouble…!?

Malleus: No worries, I am no longer a child. I would not do such a thing as destroy a museum filled with priceless artifacts on a mere whim.

Malleus: It would be more logical for me to punish the offending target than affect my surroundings in my ire, would it not?

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Deuce: That's a painting of the Lord of the Underworld being displayed there. And those two guys with him, they're…

Malleus: They must be his retainers. It is said that they would obediently carry out his commands and go to great lengths to do so for him.

Deuce: Yeah… I always imagined the Underworld to be dark and scary, but these two look pretty nice.

Malleus: It will come back to bite you if you make assumptions based on appearances, Spade. Apparently, these two were skilled shapeshifters.

Malleus: There are tales of how they would use this skill in order to back any villainous adversaries into a corner.

Malleus: If they did not possess that raw competence, I'm certain that they would not have been depicted in these works of art.

Deuce: I bet the Lord of the Underworld would be proud to hear that tales of his subordinates are still passed down for generations.

Malleus: To have the tales of his subordinates passed down for generations… Yes, I could sympathize with that.

Malleus: Within the royal family of Briar Valley, there is a tradition that at a certain age we may select our own attendants and guards.

Malleus: I would also be very proud indeed if someone I personally selected were to be acknowledged by the masses, as well as future generations to come.

Deuce: Right? But man, when you talk about attendants and guards… It just feels like we live in two completely different worlds.

Deuce: It's pretty amazing that you always have someone who's looking out for you and your daily needs, though.

Malleus: It also can be a headache. Back in the castle, I would be surrounded by other people day in and day out, simply there to fix my attire or my hair and the like.

Malleus: When my acceptance to Night Raven College was ascertained, my life was unburdened tremendously.

Malleus: My guardian stated to me, "You'll have to learn how to take care of yourself enough that you can survive on your own," and so…

Malleus: I would read books from the outside world that were provided to me, and found the wealth of knowledge fascinating.

Malleus: Those books granted me an abundance of knowledge, such as how to go shopping, or how to work laundry machines and other electrical appliances.

Deuce: He learned how to use electrical appliances from reading a book…!? He really was raised in a completely different environment.

Deuce: But honestly, I really can't believe that you go shopping on your own, or do your own laundry… Today is full of surprises.

Malleus: …Well, Sebek does insist on tending to my needs. And there is much I do leave to him.

Deuce: Ahaha… Yeah, Sebek has boasted about stuff in the past, saying something like, "I had the honor of hand-washing Malleus-sama's clothing!"

Malleus: …I can absolutely picture that, despite the fact that I had been perfectly fine doing my own laundry before he started to attend this academy.

Malleus: Although, for some time after I arrived here, there was no end to the number of difficulties I had due to my inexperience.

Malleus: For example, there was this one instance when I knew not the location of the laundry room… and chose to hand-wash my garments in the kitchen sink instead.

Deuce: EH!?

Malleus: …My fellow dormmates who encountered that spectacle in the kitchen had the same reaction as you just now.

Malleus: I inquired as to where the laundry room was, but all froze as if petrification had been cast upon them…

Malleus: When it seemed they finally had returned to their senses, they insisted on allowing them to do my laundry.

Malleus: In that moment, I had been swept up in their persistence, but… It does me no good to leave it for others to do.

Malleus: Sometimes I do clean my clothes with magic as I oft did back home, but I do try to use the laundry machine when I can as well.

Malleus: There aren't many who use the laundry room in the early morning or late night.

Malleus: After some trial and error, I was able to figure out how to properly use the washer, as well as the dryer.

Deuce: Even though you could totally clean everything with magic in the blink of an eye… It's so cool to see how you're always working to improve even when no one's watching!

Malleus: Of course, as it should be. Seeing that I am a student at this school, I must also learn what I can from my peers.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Malleus: Oho, I see this museum also carries a variable assortment of paintings depicting merfolk legends as well.

Deuce: She has a real big smile… But hey, look at that wave behind her! Was the ocean waters that choppy…?

Malleus: This depicts the moment the mermaid princess made the determination to go to the surface.

Malleus: That large wave behind her represents her courageous decision… Or at least, it most likely represents that.

Deuce: Woah, that sounds like it could be…! Draconia-senpai, do you know a lot about paintings?

Malleus: I briefly touched upon it as part of my education.

Malleus: I would not say I do not hold an appreciation for art. Rather than paintings, however, I do prefer three-dimensional objects… sculptures, especially.

Deuce: When you say sculptures, you mean the ones made out of stone or bronze… right? I'm sorry, I really don't know anything about those stuff.

Malleus: You are more or less on the correct path.

Malleus: Take the statues of the Great Seven at our academy, for instance. Sometimes they are regarded as simply part of the backdrop on campus…

Malleus: But as years pass, both stone and bronze statues will gradually change in appearance.

Malleus: Caretakers will come and go, and the outdoor elements will constantly batter them… Their similarities to the original mold would change over time to no small extent.

Malleus: Some may perceive this as mere "deterioration," but…

Malleus: As for me, I believe that changes in those statues are in fact a profound thing.

Malleus: Whenever I encounter one that looks entirely different than what it originally should have looked, I cannot help but feel as though it has lived a good, long life.

Deuce: So basically, they're living pieces of art…?

Malleus: Heh. A wonderful interpretation, Spade.

Deuce: I don't really get how that was good, but that was him praising me just now, right? Uh, thank you!

Malleus: If you find yourself interested in sculptures, you should seek me out once more.

Malleus: I can explain to you at length not only about stone sculptures and bronze sculptures, but also gargoyles as well.

Deuce: Gargoyles…?

Malleus: Ah, so you aren't familiar with them. No matter. I'll start with explaining what they are…

Deuce: Uhhhh… Wait, uh, I was actually thinking about asking Rosehearts-ryōchō about the paintings with the Card Soldiers!

Deuce: Please, I hope you can wait for another opportunity to explain it all to me! I'll be leaving now, Draconia-senpai!

Malleus: He shouldn't run in the museum like so… I fear it is only a matter of time before the sound of Rosehearts' ireful shouts fill the halls.

Malleus: Really now, humans sure are always in a hurry. I think I'll take my time taking in the exhibits in the museum.

Malleus: Oh, what do we have here…? This is a painting of the princess who was blessed by the diurnal faes.

Malleus: What a lively birthday celebration. I wonder if I would have been invited to attend, had I lived in those times…

Malleus: …Hmph, they would do well to carefully think about who to invite to their celebrations. For if I were not invited to such a gala…

Malleus: I may have brought down upon them a cloud of destruction, darkening the sky and cursing them to the ends of the earth…

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #malleus draconia #deuce spade #twst malleus #twst deuce #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: sebek #mention: riddle

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jazjelspen · 2 months

Text

scarlet and silver lining (part 2)

alastor w/ daughter reader

(notes: apologies for any inconsistencies!! not proofread!! apologies for slight ooc vox since im unsure of how he first acted when he recently died and how he got into power qwq. apologies for anyone ooc in general cuz my brain is stew. slight graphic depictions of violence. this is definetly not by best work but I'll make sure to try harder next time!)

(tags: @falsemain @aconfusedwonderland @stasiaclash )

Today was a certainly an... eventful morning?

Certainly unusual though, considering on what you have stumbled upon on this certain morning.

You had barley been here on your first day and this is what you were to see? All you wanted was food-- even cereal would suffice.

But god-- really Angel??..

Having walked down the steps from your room, gotten ready for the day you walked down with a grace you've held even during your days living and breathing. With careful and cautious steps you managed to not come across him and have your morning ruined too early.

You had accidentally stumbled upon everyone at the main seating room, you being here due to not remembering where the kitchen or dining area was very well.

Unfortunately, Angel was proudly presenting one of his porn films to the group. Few disgusted.. embarrassed.. or even weirdly-- enjoying it.. geez Nifty's certainly weirder than you expected her to be.

You scrunched your nose up slightly as you started to feel a bit grossed out yourself, simply because others seemed uncomfortable and you weren't exactly fond of seeing these kinda of thing often.. but it was hell so you couldn't exactly complain.

You walked up to the group while trying to mute the moans and squeals from Angel Dust on the television in your head, propping your arms up on the large gold headboard of the sofa Angel was laying on and when you finally spoke you managed to even catch Angel and the others jumping slightly from the unexpected surprise as they spoke amongst themselves.

"Geez Angie.. Really gotta be showin' everyone what you do?"

"--And you!"

Now you were surprised, your eyes darting towards the winged cat that, turns out, was speaking before you got there and was even pointing at you.

There was a pause. Your eyes and his meeting as he was pointing at you.. he narrowed his own set before becoming seemingly speechless.

"Actually I don't even know you yet, but considering how you act on that disgusting show and simply being here you probably got some kind of issue similar to your friend here." His eyed flickered to Angel as he spoke towards you. You being incredibly confused on what the fuck this guy was even saying by mentioning you but Angel decided to spit out his words before you.

"Oh yea? And what's my issue pussy cat?"

The cat, name being Husk from what you could remember the day before, scoffed at your friend. "Don't get me started. I see right through you and all of this bullshit and how fake you are."

Angel in response, seemed to laugh nervously.. almost in a way to cover something up. "Me? Fake? Wow.. I had no idea.." The spider's voice holding certain sarcasm continued, you just simply waiting to be able to ask your own question next. "Guess that's why I'm an actor, dumbass.. AND--" and just like that he was interrupted by a ring of his cellphone, having to quickly hold his finger up and mutter to Husk a 'hold that thought' before moving away to answer his oncoming call.

Meanwhile.. you finally managed to ask your question to Husk. "When you mean me having an issue similar to my friend's.. do you mean I seem fake? Wait-- why was I even mentioned anyway?.. I just got here!.."

"Depends. I haven't talked to you enough, but if you and him get along then I'm sure you must have some kind of fake act you hide behind as well.. you definitely can't be as cheery in person as you are on that show.

Oh and I was just revealing everyone's darn issues.. being a hell of a bartender works out for these kinds of things.." standing there almost mumbling his last few words just made you bite your cheek a bit as your face flushed in slight embarrassment. He's not exactly.. not totally wrong..

In the end Angel confessed that he needed to do an emergency shoot for his boss, whom you hated with all your guts as well with how badly that piece of shit treated Angel. You never did get abuse as bad as Angel's but still.. it all definitely gets to you on how both your bosses treated you and those around.

You frowned slightly while looking down at the sofa he previously sat on, dreading when you'll have to get back on TV as well.. although you were a bit unsure of how you'll get Vox's message if you didn't bring your cellphone.

Ah well.. not for you to worry about anyway-- if he really wanted to contact you then you're more than certain he'll find a way to reach you whether you liked it or not.

You snapped out of your thoughts once you heard Angel huff and puff out the door while exchanging a few hurried words to Charlie before slamming it in front of her face.. slight disrespect much? You felt a bit bad for the princess, seemed like quite the pushover.

You truly hoped she wouldn't rule the entirety of hell in this exact way, for if she did she'd get eaten alive for sure.

But while she was groaning and becoming frustrated as her girlfriend was helping her out you were still very much hungry. "Sooo.." you mumbled "Where's the food area? I didn't exactly wake up too early to eat with all of you.. if you did all eat together." You smiled nervously at what's left of the group, body facing Husk who was the closest.

He even responded to you! How kind-- although he was still quite grumpy.

He pointed a finger from his left hand holding the bottle behind himself at the nearest entry way behind and beside the staircase you walked down from. "Over there, turn left, head straight, see two large fancy doors? Open it. walk through it, ignore the empty tables unless you want to eat alone which would be fucking sad and head towards the door with the circular window at the top. That's the kitchen and eat whatever you want, don't complain if anything's spoiled since you chose to be here of all places."

You couldn't help but want to roll your eyes slightly, but with a minor huff of your own you walked passed him and tried your best to remember his shitty directions. "Thanks.. Husk.."

Once you started walking his directions were shitty indeed, simple but being a bit more descriptive definitely would've helped.

Walking through the hall you'd eventually go through your steps echoed against the walls, bouncing back and forth like the ripple of a rain drop on a puddle. Thankfully it was very clean, Nifty certainly seemed to have done her job right with how spotless this part of the hotel was! As weird as she is.. she does her job well.

Finally reaching said 'fancy' doors you opened it to see an entire dining room. Clean as well with newly furnished tables and chairs with unique tablecloths with intricate designs only reminiscent of the royal family. Even each of the tables had a vase and flowers set up and two small pepper and salt shakers, although you ere certain those flowers were fake considering the lack of realism to them.

Nonetheless, fairly charming.

You walked past them all to head towards a large door with the circular window that was described by Husk, peaking through it from a distance it was certainly to the kitchen.

But..

Gosh.. what was that smell?..

It was a humble, nostalgic, delicious smell.

God-- what the fuck was it??..

As if the smell was leading your nose faster towards the door, pushing your body against it since it was those doors that simply would swing itself open or closed with a push.

"Ooo.. is that--" you walked in with a big smile, your nostrils filling itself with that childhood scent.

"It certainly is, ma puce."

You should've known.

The voice that disturbed your entire morning and mood turned around from the stove to reveal itself as none other than-- Alastor.

"Why.. it's certainly an absolute gas to see you up and awake! I even made you your favorite--" the radio demon exclaimed whilst picking up the pan he was using to plop whatever food he made onto the plate, with a swift motion he set down the pan to grab the plate and reveal your hot and fresh breakfast to you.

"--Jambalaya!" he cheered, a subtle audio track of an audience cheering could be heard from his staff that seemed to work as both a microphone and a speaker.

"Uh huh.." you frowned deeply while crossing your arms and raising your shoulder while taking a step back from him. "Actually I ate before I came he--" and even as you tried to escape him by turning back he managed to teleport right in front of you!

"Tsk tsk.. my dear you know you can't lie to me. Take a seat, enjoy your meal! You can't be telling me you aren't dying to try your favorite dish?" He put his hand on your back and the other holding the food as he pushed you through the door, then suddenly pulled you by your wrist, and sat you down on the nearest empty table. "Besides.."

"It's your Nana's recipe..."

Oh.

Your Nana.

Your eyes softened at the mention of her but immediately glared at him with a sharp gaze which seemed to not even affect him in the slightest.

'This fucker..' he knew how to get to you, he knew your weakness.

"Don't you dare fucking mention her. You have no right to have her name roll down your disgusting tongue and through your rotten teeth."

"Oh, is that any way to treat your father little fawn? My.. you're not even little anymore! My mistake.."

His large smirk widened as he set down the plate and a pair of silverware in front of you.. it only made you want to strangle that thin neck of his.

You hated him.

He was the reason why you were down here.. although indirectly. You were blind, you were so caught up in his act even after he died--

it costed you your life.

"I'll only eat it because of Nana, other than that I would really appreciate if you could fuck off Alastor." Even as you told him to screw off he stayed ever so present! Even setting down a cup of hot coffee(or tea, whichever you prefer) in front of you that also smelled utterly delicious. "Besides you only started properly raising me instead of playing babysitter when you realized no one else would, I'm more surprised you didn't throw me back into the orphanage."

"Oh darling I'm certainly a monster but I'm not a downright devil!" Alastor you know damn well.. "Your grandmother loved you too much.. I couldn't just let you go so easily!"

"Yea yea whate-" you picked up your mug to take a sip of whatever was in it which to your surprise.. it was an old favorite drink of yours. One that you would drink every morning with Alastor during your teenage years..

"Hm.. not bad.." You mumbled as you took another sip of it, yet again another sense of home washing you over once more.

"I still yet remember your favorite morning beverage mon chere. What kind of father would I be if I wouldn't?"

"Uh yea-- when I was a teenager. A few years behind dontcha' think?" You scoffed at him while trying to seem as if his efforts were meaningless but the simple action of continuously sipping the liquid totally didn't just.. contradict that.

"Which is why I'd like to catch up a bit more hm? You begged me to leave you alone and I let you be your own independent self when I first found out you were associated with that.. thing." He pulled out the chair across from you to take a seat himself. Right after he set his staff resting against the side of the table and relaxed his elbows on the surface, his chin laid on the back of his hands while looking right at you.. inspecting you.

"If my memory serves correct I'd say around.. seventy-one years? Hm? Since I've seen you? I'm sure you've made some absolutely splendid decisions all those years."

You loudly sighed as you set the halfway empty mug down and replacing the item with the silverware beside your plate.

" Look my decisions aren't for you to judge. You're no saint and I'm not obliged to listen to whatever terrible advice you have. I'm ten years older than when you have last seen me alive and not even including the ninety-four years I've been down here in total." Intertwining your fingers with the silverware you picked up some food from your plate and bring it up towards your plate. The smell seemingly holy to you and once you plopped it in your mouth..

You could've sworn heaven took a delicious shit in your mouth. This was so fucking good...

The spices, the vegetables, the rice.. it was all just cooked to perfection.

You could definitely feel goosebumps crawl around your body and your mouth exploding in flavor.

Oh how you loved the taste of New Orleans.

"Just the way you like it dear?"

You snapped out of your thoughts as your eyes popped open towards the smirking overlord, seemingly proud of your reaction and it made you release a loud scoff from your throat.

"Just-- screw off. I don't want to associate myself with a murderer and a sadist." You set your silverware on your plate as you held your food on one hand and your mug in the other as you stood up from your seat.

"I sure do hope you know that your employer, that imbecile with one of those wretched picture boxes for a head, isn't any better darling." Alastor stayed in place but his eyes were the only thing that followed you while you took a few steps away from him with your back facing him.

Although his comment made you freeze on the spot you didn't dare turn around and face him for he wasn't even worth the action.

"Sure, he's not any better than you. But at least he didn't lie to me all my life and made me believe he was the most amazing person in the world, he didn't make me believe that he was a saint.. that he was actually a good person.."

You paused.

"So, yeah.. he may not be any better but he at the very least he isn't anything like you."

Just like that you resumed walking out the dining room, hands occupied and heart full.

You only amused your father albeit feeling a slight uncomfortable twinge in his chest that made him only want to reconnect with you more.

You just reminded him too much of your grandmother, noticing a few small actions and habits you did that you acquired through growing up with her.

You were all he had left of her, and you were all he had left of that little girl he had to leave behind.

Through selfish means it happened but..

He wished to try, just once more.

___________________________________________

You let out a shaky sigh of fear.

It was your 12th year in Hell and you have been scraping by simply scavenging for scraps, fighting foes with any weapons you could find or trade for and trying to stay alive. You were basically living in squalor but in the nicest parts of town, and was surprisingly somewhat respected due to being affiliated with a few loan sharks that you helped in return for money of resources.. even working 'normal' jobs to at least rent out a small home.

It was now the day of the 'Extermination' Where exorcist angels from above would kill any demons they could find in order to keep the population at bay. You've managed to survive each year due to your connections but all your 'protectors' have been murdered by said exorcists or have fallen from their once high power.

Cruel for heaven but-- then again you couldn't blame them. Not with how power and money hungry these sinners could be.. maybe it was best for them to keep sinners on the low.

But god did you wish you could be pardoned from this the way the hellborn were.

You didn't mean to die the way you did.

You tried to do it for a good cause.

You truly trusted in your beliefs.

You really didn't think you'd get that angry.

You didn't mean to kill that man.

You regret everything.

Especially on the day you heard Alastor's broadcasts all over hell.. you were shocked that he was even in hell but he was even torturing and toppling overlords for his own amusement??

It feels as if the version of Alastor that you grew up with, your dad..

It felt like he died all over again.

Even yet you're still mourning over it.. not for Alastor-- but for your father.

You really should've trusted those detectives and cops huh? Should've trusted the newspapers, even the 'news' on the new picture boxes they invented spoke about his case like daily gossip.

You should've trusted them all.

Evidence was right there but since you grew up with him and saw no signs on your part you could've sworn you felt it in your gut that he was innocent! That maybe that deer hunter that shot him was framing him!

That had to be the case--

Preaching about good behavior, following laws yet rebelling when they are discriminatory or unfair, that life was beautiful and precious...

Pfft. Precious my ass.

He lead you to your death and he didn't even take any part in it.

But to you, your blood was on his hands.

Which is why you knew you weren't going to regret this next part but..--

inevitably.. you did.

You were currently on the floor of an overlord's abode.

You have been seeking refuge from the exterminations happening just outside and this place was the nearest one before an exorcist angel could cut you in half.

How you managed to get in? You were quite unsure at the moment.. it went so quick, did it in a panic, and you're losing blood from a slash on the leg?? Yea getting in here was all your body was begging you to do.

But you let out a shriek when you were once again having a weapon pointed at you.

Well-- two.

Two bodyguard-looking guys confronted you as you looked up at them in fear, a third more sophisticated figure approaching.

Vox, the television demon, his head a bit funny to you considering how small his screen was yet he terrified you as well due to his status.

"How did-- oh I'm going to fucking kill Betty for leaving everything except the back door closed." He eyed you, a look of disgust evident on said small screen. "Oh just kill he--"

"WAIT!!--"

They positioned their weapons to your forehead this time, Vox about to turn around until you mentioned he- who-must--not-be-named.

"I...I knew Alastor!!--"

A shriek of a television signal could be heard, a new kind of static radiating from the overlord.

He faced you-- in a scary yet almost funny kind of way..

"What did you just say?"

"I.." you gulped.. you can't tell him he's your dad! you're smarter than that even in dire situations like these.. it's only more trouble for you.

"I knew him.. I was his.. assistant! yes and I wrote his scripts and he uh--" you felt yourself cower slightly seeing Vox come closer and put a hand up which caused his bodyguards to put their weapons down. He didn't need them, but they caused that fear he needed.

"He got me.. killed.." you trailed off and flinching when he bent down to you.

Vox smirked "Killed huh? You were one of his pathetic victims?"

You nodded vigorously, hoping this will get you to live another day. "He.. He used me as a shield when some coppers tried to shoot him.. got me instead.."

"Does that make you hate him?"

"Yes sir.."

"Hate him so much you could strange him, open his stomach, twist his intestines and feed them to them old rats in the hotels and skid ro--"

"Yes! yes sir.."

Okay maybe this overlord went a bit too far with his hate but.. whatever to not get fucking impaled by an angel.

Vox's smirk widened as he then dragged you up by your arm in a way that was far from gentle. "You sure have a pretty face as well, sight for sore eyes." He inspected you as you only stood there in fear on one leg with your other still bleeding out "Water, some rest and your voice just may be as smooth as honey." He harshly grabbed your chin to look over your appearance even more, your hair, any facial marks you may have. "You say you wrote scripts too? If you're any good you may be able to make some interesting headlines if so."

"Hm.." he hummed in thought " I like you. Prove to be useful to me and I'll let you live.. and just maybe.. I'll protect you from the exterminations and let you live comfortably working for me. As comfortable as it can get.. "

Protection from an overlord.. job from an overlord--

Not the best choices but it's way better than what you're doing right now..

"What do you say, is it a deal sweetheart?"

You weren't that stupid to make a deal with an overlord.

But as mentioned before,

Your undying spite with Alastor might've been your biggest push to shake Vox's hand and give your soul away carelessly.

"Deal."

(It's 1AM I need sleep BUT I JUST WANNA POST THISSISISIS GRAHHHH im so tired but there's one particular scene I want to get to.. may take awhile but AHHHHHHHH I can't wait!!)

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runningfrom2am · 3 months

Text

cold nights // part seventeen

summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.8k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness (r has a panic attack), she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: this is the tea guys get ready for a LOADED chapter. also,, i apologize.

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

Coryo wants to ask you who that guy was- why he made you so instantly uncomfortable, and he wants to, but he's cut off before he can get a word out by someone shouting your name. You tense under his hold, freezing on the spot. Then your name comes again, and as Coryo turns to see the face of whoever it is, he was met with the very same blonde boy just a few feet away.

"Hey, leavin' already?" He asks, tilting his head at you as you turn. He doesn't even spare a glance in Coryo's direction. "Didn't even say hello."

"Oh, well, I'm just... not feeling well." You reply, dropping Coryo's hand in favour of shielding yourself around your waist.

"Oh, that's a shame. Can I walk you home?" He offers.

"I've got it, actually." Coryo answers stiffly, straightening his shoulders as he takes in the boy's attire. Blue slacks, a white T-shirt, and a buzzcut. He's a peacekeeper.

The boy looks him up and down, a smirk forming on his lips. "This is your mentor. Saw him on TV with you, I didn't realise that was a... permanent arrangement."

"Coriolanus just came to visit. He's a good friend." You say quietly, hardly to be heard over the Covey band playing in the background.

"Oh! A friend. Of course." He laughs, speaking to you, but his eyes are locked with Coryo's; unafraid, taunting. "And here I was thinking you had a type."

"Y/N has never mentioned you." Coryo states, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep himself from throwing a punch. "Who are you, exactly?"

"Right! Sorry, I'm Cole." The blonde boy replies.

Coryo could laugh. Clearly, he was local. "Should I take a blind guess at where your father works, Cole?"

His jaw tenses in response, but then he laughs. "Yeah, yeah. You'd probably be right." He reaches up, running his hand over his jaw. "You know, if Y/N isn't up to giving you a tour, maybe I could take you out in the woods and show you where your father was murdered. How does that sound, Snow?"

You look up at your friend, eyes wide. Coryo doesn't know what to say or do, but he looks pissed. "Cole, enough." You state, trying to steady the shake in your voice. "That was cruel and you know it."

"Oh, was it? Sorry." He apologizes, but he's looking past you at a seething Coriolanus. He can only hear his heartbeat in his ears, and he wants nothing more than to beat this guy to a pulp right where he stands.

"Coryo, let's just go, please..." He can suddenly hear your voice, and feel your hands against his chest, trying to urge him out the door.

"Yeah, you two head out." Cole chuckles, lifting one hand in a wave. "I'll give you some advice though, bud, you're not getting anything from her by walking her home. I've been down that road and jeez- it's really not worth it."

Coryo didn't care anymore if you were trying to get him out; he steps past you and is throwing a fist right into Cole's nose before you could make a move to stop him. Bringing up his father was one thing, saying something so disgusting about you was totally another. Coriolanus would not look past that and be a pacifist right now- even if that's what you wanted.

You stumble back with a gasp, hands flying up to cover your mouth. You stand frozen as Coryo knocks him down, laying punch after punch onto a boy you once thought of as a friend.

Hit. After. Hit.

You couldn't see his eyes. You weren't sure why you were looking. Deep down, you knew you wouldn't like what you saw.

You back up. Back, back, back until your head hits the wall and you can't keep going. You didn't realize you were breathing so fast until you started to get dizzy. People are shouting, a crowd is forming. Too many people, too much screaming- the music has stopped, and you watch from outside your body as Sejanus wraps his arms around Coriolanus's waist and yanks him back so he's standing upright again.

He wipes his bloodied mouth on his wrist, then promptly pushes his hair back out of his eyes as he spits the blood in his mouth down on Cole as he lies on the ground. Time is moving so slowly that you're not even sure he's moving. Is he dead?

Your eyes flit back up to Coriolanus again, and his eyes catch yours. You try to take a step back again, but the wall is still there. Shades of red cloud the edges of your vision, and you're stuck making eye contact with him. Frozen, and terrified.

"No- no, no Y/N, wait-" He starts to speak to you. You wonder if you're dreaming. If this was another nightmare- worse than the others. It was personal. "Y/N- hey, don't look at me like that. Come on, don't look at me like that. Talk to me." He's saying, pleading with you, and you can only read his lips as tears fall quick and heavy from your eyes.

He takes one step with empty but bloodied hands held out in front of him, and you're running. It's the worst kind of deja vu. You don't know where to go- you can't go outside. He knows where you live, where your family lives, and it's too long of a walk to be able to make it. He would catch you if you tried to run home alone.

You're trying to sprint through a crowd of drunk people, many of whom are fighting as well now, and you almost don't even notice when you take a hit to the side of the head with someone's elbow as you try and get to the back room. You don't have time to care. You look back over your shoulder, shoving your way through as quickly as you can. He's following you. You can see his blonde hair in the semi-cleared path you made for yourself.

You can't look back, you have to look forward as you dart down the dark hallway, praying that the Covey's makeshift dressing room has a lock on the door. You didn't even realize you were screaming until you slammed the door behind you, scrambling for the lock and sliding the rusty metal shut as you barricaded the door with your body.

"Y/N! Y/N, wait!" Coryo shouts, shoving his way through the crowd behind you. You can't hear him, even when he catches your eyes. That same fear behind them made his gut twist.

He only just clears the crowd behind you when someone is standing right in his path, grabbing his shoulders and shoving him back. Lucy Gray. She wasn't strong, but she needed to be. "What have you done!" She's shouting right in his face, pushing him back again, but it does little to move him. "Why would you do that in front of her?! Get out of here! Now!"

"No, no, Lucy Gray I need to-"

"Coriolanus Snow if you don't get away from her right now I swear to god I-"

"No, you don't understand I-"

"I understand damn fine, thank you!" She huffs. "Sejanus, go get Lennox."

He didn't even clock that Sejanus was holding onto him, keeping him from getting any closer to you even though you were locked behind that door he could see just feet away. He could hear you screaming, sobbing, and he only wanted to help.

"Okay, yeah. I will." Sejanus says, turning his grip onto Coryo's arm. "Come on, you gotta go."

He had seen Sejanus angry before, but it was never directed at him. "Sejanus, please, I have to help her, I can't go through this again I really-"

"You can help her by leaving."

Coryo's heart sinks in his chest, but he lets Sejanus pull him away, and he stares hopelessly back over his shoulder at the door as Lucy Gray knocks on it, talking to you through the metal barrier protecting you from him.

"Y/N/N, hey, it's me. It's Lucy Gray. You gotta let me in, sweetheart. Come on, open up." She's trying to stay calm as she knocks on the door, repeatedly trying the handle on it. "I'm alone, I promise you're safe, Y/N/N. Open the door, please."

You can hear her, but everything besides your broken sobs sounds distant as you're curled up against the opposite wall. There's not enough air in the world right now to keep you conscious- there must not be a window back here. You force yourself back onto your feet, stumbling as you try to stand up and you can hardly see. It's hot.

You look up, there's no vents. The ceiling is too high. Somehow, that makes you feel more claustrophobic.

You make your way over to the door, your palms against it and feeling soft knocks coming from the other side.

"Lucy Gray?" You sniff, unsure now that it was even her voice that you heard.

"Yes, sweetheart. It's just me, can you let me in, please?"

You take three deep breaths.

"Y/N/N?"

With a shaky hand, you reach up and slide the lock open.

She tries the handle again, looking back over her shoulder when it cracks open this time.

You step back quickly as the door is slowly pushed open, almost falling back with the urge to run. You hardly remember why you would open the door.

"Hey, hey, just me." Your best friend says, quickly closing the door again and locking it behind herself.

She eyes you carefully, and your arms are wrapped tightly around your midsection. You don't look like yourself- eyes wide with nothing more than terror behind them, like you're physically holding yourself together and it's not really working as your chest rises and falls so fast she can almost see your muscles straining to keep up. She wants nothing more than to pull you into her arms and tell you it's okay, but she's not sure touching you would be wise. "You okay, Hun?"

You look at her with tear-filled eyes, shaking your head.

"That's okay." She nods at you, understanding and filled with worry. "Do you want to sit? I'll get you some water and we can talk, okay?"

You nod, swallowing over the dryness you didn't even notice in your throat left over from all the screaming and crying. If you didn't know better, you would have thought you swallowed a full box of cotton.

Lucy Gray nods, double checking the door is locked before going over to her bag in the corner and grabbing a water bottle. You watch her the whole way and her calmness slightly soothes you, just enough to sit down at the bench and table beside you.

Lucy Gray isn't scared. You're safe here. You have to remind yourself over and over that you're safe now.

"Your brother is on his way." She assures you, sitting down across the bench from you and holding out the water she just opened for you.

"Okay." You say quietly, taking it and just holding it in your lap. You try and take a deep breath, your head falling back as you shut your eyes, trying to force the fear to leave your body.

"There you go, good. Keep breathing." You hear her tell you and you swallow again. "Can you talk to me? Tell me what happened. No one can hurt you here, I promise."

"Coryo, go home." Sejanus instructs him, turning him in the opposite direction, as if he couldn't do it himself. He had absolutely zero interest in going back to that cold empty house they had borrowed for the month.

Especially after what he had done to you. Again.

He promptly turns back around in the street. "No, I'm coming with you."

Sejanus sighs, rubbing his hands down his face. "I don't have time for this-"

"I agree. Let's go get him."

"Don't you get it?" Sejanus laughs bitterly, eyes wide with exasperation as he shakes his head. "Don't you know what you've done to her?"

"Of course I get it!" Coryo shouts in response. "I've ruined everything! I know that!"

Sejanus opens his mouth to speak, quickly shutting it again.

"I'm killing her! I'm killing her and I can hardly breathe right now and I need her to know I didn't mean to scare her and the only way I can show her that is helping her now. That's the mistake I made last time, and I won't do it again. I won't." He shakes his head, reaching up and pushing his hair back out of his eyes.

"She talked to me, on the last night I saw her. She screamed, and cried, just like that," He gestures vaguely toward the building you're still trapped inside, "and she asked if that's who I was and I couldn't tell her no. She asked if I regretted it and I do, more than anything, and I'm pretty sure she's the only damn reason why and she doesn't know that!"

"I can't lose her." He adds after a moment of the two boys just staring at each other. "Not again, Sejanus. I'm scared of who I'll be without her."

Sejanus shakes his head slightly, looking up at the stars as he takes a deep breath. He was mad at Coryo for scaring you, but he was his friend, and if this is how he wanted to help, he couldn't bring himself to push him away after he was sure that Coryo had never been so honest in his life.

"Okay. Let's go."

There are still lights on in the house when Sejanus knocks on the door. Coryo is standing at his side, chest tight. Your brother already didn't like him- he knew this wouldn't go well at all, but he couldn't walk away from you now. If it was your brother you needed, he would get him for you.

The door opens and they're lucky to see that it was Lennox who answered.

"Where's my sister?" He asks immediately, noting that you weren't with them.

"Something happened, and Lucy Gray asked us to come get you." Sejanus answers, and Coryo's breath hitches as your brother's eyes lock on him.

"What did you do?" He spits, and for a moment Coryo wonders how you could even be related.

He feels himself go pale. "I'm sorry, I really am..."

"Pa!" Your brother shouts back into the house, not giving him the chance to explain further. "We gotta go get Y/N/N, somethin' happened to her."

"What?" Your dad's voice comes next, panicked and frantic as he hurries to the door, not even bothering to grab a coat as he and his son push past the boys on the porch.

Coryo hadn't had the chance to meet him yet, and the fact that this is his first impression makes him feel ill.

"What happened, is she hurt?" He asks, stalking quickly down the front path and they follow hastily after.

"She's not hurt." Sejanus assures him quickly.

"She, uhm, maybe..." Coryo says, embarrassingly non-confident. Everyone looks at him. "She caught an elbow to the head, I couldn't stop it. I'm sorry."

"You're Coriolanus?" Your dad says, turning to look at him only briefly.

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you for coming to get us." He replies, nodding to him. "You did the right thing."

Coryo has to ignore the glares Lennox is shooting into him. He must be the only one who knows.

"We didn't know it would be unsafe for her, but we should have. I apologize." Sejanus says, and your father slightly shakes his head.

"She's got a smart head on her shoulders. She wouldn't've gone if she thought something would happen. Can't blame anyone." He replies. "There's no guidebook on how to live with this stuff."

"I have a good idea of what not to do." Lennox cuts in, and Coryo catches him staring at his bruised knuckles. He quickly tucks his hands into his pockets.

Peacekeepers had cleared out the Hob by the time they got back. Coryo recognizes the other kids in Lucy Gray's band as they stand outside, presumably waiting for her to come out. She was still with you, maybe that was a good thing.

"Tam Amber, is Lucy Gray with her?" Your father asks the boy, who nods in response.

"They won't let you in here, but go try the back door. Goes straight to our room, that's where I saw her go."

"Thanks, Son." Your father nods, lips pursed together as he pats his shoulder and quickly brushes past, rounding the side of the building.

Coryo tries to follow, but Lennox stops him abruptly with a hand on his chest. "You better go."

"Listen, I, I don't know what she told you, but-"

"She told me everything I need to know about you." He says, looking back over his shoulder at his dad knocking on the door, ear pressed to it as he calls out for you and Lucy Gray. "And I know that you being here will just make it worse. So go."

Coryo nods, running a hand down his face. "Listen, I get it, I do, but I can't lose her again. I can't. I have to explain-"

"No, no." Lennox cuts him off. Coryo is sick of people cutting him off. "Can't you just let her be happy? We're doing everything we can to convince her she's still alive- that she's safe and it was hard enough already before you showed up. Literally every night she has nightmares about you, because she trusted you. Completely. You've been here less than a day and you hurt her all over again- I can't just stand by and let that happen."

"I did it because that guy said something horrible about her- I just, I couldn't let him get away with that!" Coryo protests, scared that no one would actually give him a chance. "Last time I didn't get to talk to her and I think that's what she needs."

"Oh, you think that? That's spectacular. She'll be cured!" Lennox laughs dryly, rolling his eyes. "We don't need you to fix her. I really don't have time for this, Coryo."

He practically spits the nickname at him, laced with venom as he turns on his heel to go to the door.

Coryo groans, running his hands down his face again as he watches the door open for your brother and father.

"It's like," You take a deep, shaky breath, squeezing the water bottle you're holding in your lap. "It's like he is a different person, Lucy Gray. Do you get it now? Did you see?"

"I believe you. I always have." She nods, looking into your eyes. "I saw it, but..." She sighs, breaking eye contact with you. "I don't think he's a vicious person, Y/N. And I don't think you think that either."

You chew your lip, shaking your head as your eyes fall to the floor.

"Can I give you my opinion?" Lucy Gray asks after a moment, reaching out to hold your hand.

"Truth is truth to the end of reckoning." You say plainly, nodding and gripping onto her hand.

"There's no reckoning, love, okay? I'm your friend first and foremost. I want to help you, and I will always be honest with you." She assures you before continuing. "But I think... I think he's just a normal boy. Boys get in fights all the time-"

"Lucy Gray you didn't see it."

Your best friend is calm, despite you interrupting her. You never did that, but she knows better than to fault you for it now. "Okay, alright. What didn't I see?"

Your hair falls into your eyes as you shake your head, and you quickly push it back with your free hand to look at her. "His eyes."

"His eyes, okay... What about them?"

"He gets... It's scary. Like he wants to do it. Like he enjoys hurting people and, and-" Just recalling it makes your heart rate increase.

"Okay. I believe you." She nods, placing her other hand on yours. "But I think this is more about you than him, sweetheart."

Lucy Gray can see the confusion that knits itself into your creased brow. "It was a scary, traumatic time for you, and I think you're still recovering and that's okay. You may never be the same and that's okay. But I don't think he'd hurt you. I really don't. I think he's a good person."

"I want to think that..." You sniff, shaking your head. "but just as easily that could have been me in the arena. And just as easily that could have been you out there, or, or..." Your train of thought dissipates. "I just mean it doesn't seem that anything is stopping him."

"I don't think it could have been you. He cares about you. You told me that, remember?" She smiles softly. "I think it was inconsiderate of him to act that way out there, but I think you were just reliving something you shouldn't have to. The games can make anyone do bad things."

"Maybe..." You mutter, second-guessing yourself now. You didn't even see his eyes tonight, not until he was looking at you and begging you to listen when you couldn't. He looked just as scared as you, as soon as he realized what he had done.

"Are you sure you saw that today?" Lucy Gray's question shocks you, but it's exactly what you were thinking. "His eyes, I mean. Did you see it again or did you just expect to after last time?"

You jump at the rapid knocking on the back door. Lucy Gray stands up, making her way over to it. You hear muffled voices for a few moments before Lucy Gray returns. "It's your family, I'm going to let them in, okay?" She pats your leg and you nod, and she smiles at you reassuringly before walking away.

You hear the door creak open and you stand up, brushing off the front of your dress and turning to face them as your father and Lennox rush in.

"Honey, are you okay?" Your father asks, quickly gathering you into a hug and you nod, biting back more tears.

"Fine just fine." You whisper. "I'm sorry you had to come all this way..."

Lucy Gray catches a glimpse of Sejanus and Coryo standing outside as she lets your family in, looking back at them talking to you when she slips out. She gently closes the door behind herself and walks up to them. "I thought I told you to go home."

"I know, I know, but-" Coryo looks between her and the door. He sighs, deciding to give up on defending himself. "Is she okay?"

Lucy Gray looks at him, arms crossed over her chest as his hair falls in his eyes and he doesn't immediately fix it, more concerned about you than anything else. "You need to cut your hair." She states plainly.

He's confused, opening his mouth to argue when she speaks again. "You need to cut your hair so she can see your eyes. She'll feel safer with you then." She turns on her heel, nodding to Sejanus before heading back for the door. "When we get her out of there you better be gone- she can't see either of you tonight." She pauses, hand on the handle. "But yes, she'll be okay."

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl , @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie , @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @scorpiolystoned , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

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mikaela-the-slut-expert · 4 months

Note

Hi! It's me again ;)

Now I have two, maybe obvious, thoughts...

1. How will Hua Cheng and Xie Lian react if the reader (assuming that the reader is a demon... Or demon and a god at the same time, for example) presents them with a paired jewelry with his ashes inside, as Hua Cheng did for Xie Lian, and reader not gonna say that the ashes are in there... Reader is just like "yes it's yours now" (personally, i see it as earrings... One is more modest for Xie Lian, and the other is brighter for Hua Cheng)

and 2. About the statues... Did Hua Cheng make statues for the reader as he did for Xie Lian? Or would he have expressed his love for him in some other way? 🤔

if you like ideas if you like the ideas, choose any of them and it doesn't matter it would be as headcannons or you write it as a story.

With love 💙💙💙

Ashes and Statues

Hua Cheng x gn!reader x Xie Lian

Ajsjsjsjns I have rabies. Are you in my head? I've been thinking about this a bunch! So I hope you like my thoughts on it. I'm sorry if the earrings one isn't exactly what you were thinking because I'm slow 😔🙏

I'm using small details of my OC simply for the fact that Xie Lian and reader are very close and always have been close

____________________________________

When Xie Lian receives your ashes it's kind of like how he received Hua Cheng's. One day he woke up and there was an earring dangling from his ear

It was only one earring

The earring wasn't gaudy or flashy. Just a clear gem hanging from his ear. It was still beautiful though

When Xie Lian asks you about it, you only say "it's yours now"

Xie Lian has known you for a long time so of course even though you're a god he knows you're a ghost too even if you don't mention it often

So he's not dumb he knows it's your ashes

Just like Hua Cheng's ring, he keeps the earring fastened in his ear and keeps it safe all the time.

Most of the time the earring is hidden behind his long hair, but he keeps the earring in anyways.

The next time he sees San Lang he isn't expecting for him to have a new earring in his ear either.

That explains why Xie Lian only has one, Hua Cheng has the other one.

While Xie Lian's earring is simple, Hua Cheng's earring is bright and has red gems.

They look similar in shape so it's obvious they're a matching set.

Apparently you said the same thing to Hua Cheng, "It's yours now, do whatever with it"

And of course like Xie Lian, Hua Cheng keeps it fastened in his ear.

They didn't know ashes could be split up, they've never seen it before until now

Now Hua Cheng is trying to figure out how to split up his ashes too, he doesn't want to leave you out after all.

All in all they love the meaning of the earrings you've given them and they're glad you trust them enough to handle them.

♡

I definitely think Hua Cheng has made statues and art of the reader too!

There are a lot of things Hua Cheng does that has to do with art so I would imagine he would include reader in that too.

I think different readers also call for different circumstances but I definitely think Hua Cheng would make statues of the reader regardless out of admiration and love

Statues have been made of you before of course, so you're no stranger to seeing them. This many though all in one place?

When you guys find the hundreds if not thousands of statues of Xie Lian. Mu Qing isn't happy when they start finding statues of you too.

The deeper you all go the more you all find.

Some statues are you by themselves, some are paired with Xie Lian.

There are many statues that depict you throughout your life.

So while Mu Qing and Feng Xin are freaking out calling out stalker stalker

You and Xie Lian are really liking these statues. They're done so well...

You guys can't help but admire them.

____________________________________

I know it's short but I hope you like it😭🖤

I haven't read the book in a long time so I don't quite remember the statue arc details.

#tgcf #tgcf headcanon #hualian #hualian x reader #hua cheng x reader #tgcf x male reader #xie lian x reader #tgcf hua cheng #tgcf hualian #tgcf xie lian

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tiddygame · 2 months

Text

i’ve stared at this for so long that i now hate it and think ive lost all concept of how to write so take this and get it out of my google docs

the introduction is rough and the medical depictions (and accuracy/realism) could use some (a lot of) work but whatever! here it is, my vague yet still oddly specific idea of how the face reveal would go in @myriadblvck ’s streamer au:

tw: description of a panic attack? i think?

[this takes place post first irl meet but before they’re officially together]

imagine ghost has a glasgow smile but on one side they carved a little too deep and left some nerve damage. time and surgery helped, after which he could eat unimpeded and talk without a lisp, but there's still some facial nerve damage and/or skin contractures from scarring, specifically around the corner of his mouth.

now, everytime he smiles, be it shit eating grin or a full genuine joy filled smile that not even grumpy mcgrumperson could hold off, it always looks wrong because one corner doesn't raise fully like the other.

everything else is fine, there isn’t any facial paralysis, he just smiles… wrong. especially since only one eye properly squints when he smiles, giving him the look of someone who got stuck mid wink.

if he wants to look “normal” (or as normal as he could get it) he has to manually squint his other eye. still, it always felt weird; you don't realize how much those muscles affect the rest of your face until they're gone.

it's why he learned to always wear the mask.

when his expression is neutral, you don’t really notice it. if you can see his mouth when he talks however, it’s obvious that there’s something wrong. he wouldn’t say he’s necessarily ashamed of the scars and damage itself, but it’s the stares that are the worst. before he started hiding behind it, people would openly gawk or even glare at him as if he was some ne’er-do-well gang member that got what was coming to him.

he still remembers the cosmetic surgeon that had been talking to him about fixing the contractures— the whole appointment was a fucking nightmare. the cuts had healed nicely enough especially considering how bad it could have been; he was lucky to only need a little cosmetic help. the only reason he was there was so he could fucking eat food without struggling to open his mouth.

the doctor spent god knows how long breaking down everything wrong with his face like he was a fucking car mechanic lying about how dirty your filter is. the guy constantly mentioned that while he was under, they could also fix his jawline, do a rhinoplasty, trying to break him down to agree to more work.

he was already fuming my the time the doc brought up how kids would react. asking ghost if he wanted to scare children since “you cant expect the little youngins that are still learning about the world to not get scared by something scary,” and that “even some adults would cringe at the scarring.”

what stuck out most was the condescending smile he had when he said it. as if he was pointing out the obvious and ghost was being stupid and shortsighted by not agreeing.

he declined everything except what was medically necessary. the procedure went fine and after an aggravatingly long recovery period, he could eat solid foods again without issue. but the comments still stuck with him.

…okay, maybe he’s a little ashamed.

scaring kids with your face doesn’t feel good and being reminded of everything you’ve lost when you try to smile can really fuck you up in a way words fail to describe.

so yeah, he hates it. he’s gotten used to the mask, both skull clad balaclava and simple medical mask, being a permanent layer of armor. even now that he’s a bit more comfortable in his own skin it still feels wrong to pull it off.

when he gets close to soap, it still feels like a layer of vulnerability that he’ll never be prepared for.

the first time he let soap see his face, there hadn’t been any grandiose build up, no extravagant planning.

simon had arrived just a few hours earlier. he hated commercial flights with a burning passion but it was always worth it to see johnny.

with soaps twin out of town for the week, he had decided to take leave to spend time with his friend, a friend that he most certainly did NOT have a crush on (a disclaimer roach and gaz heard everytime they started snickering over ghost taking leave.)

johnny had cooked something nice and simple for dinner, saying that simon had spent too long with MREs and deserved real food (ghost only agreed if he was the one washing the dishes, soap had laughed and told him he's not so kind as to let him off the hook for chores).

when they ate, it was always in the living room with johnny taking care to always stay angled away from simon, never trying to catch a glimpse, regardless of how much he wanted to see what was under the mask. the obvious gesture of kindness and respect for his boundaries always left him feeling all weird and fuzzy inside. but, then again, johnny seemed pretty good at triggering that feeling in general.

their finished plates were on the coffee table and johnny was watching whatever dumb movie he had put on. he was pretty sure the man spent more time talking over it and making fun of everything than he did actually watching it (it was simon’s favorite way to watch a movie.)

ghost however, was watching soap. thinking.

in the end, it was an impulsive decision made after a strong three seconds of consideration.

“you uhm— you can look by the way,” ghost stared at the can of soda in his hands, immediately regretting the words.

“what?” soap didn’t fully turn, just shifted slightly to hear him better. a simple gesture to show he was listening without turning to face him. it normally made simon happy to see that johnny was more than willing to accommodate for his boundaries. now though it made him feel stupid for robbing johnny of a normal face to face conversation, a normal human interaction, just over his idiotic insecurities.

“my face, you—,” he felt his heart block his airway and tried clearing his throat before continuing, “you can look if you want,” christ he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. why was he getting so fucked up over this?

“are you sure?” he hadn’t turned yet, but ghost could see his pensive expression from here. this should be nothing. realistically, he knew johnny seeing his scars wouldn’t suddenly make him hate him… right?

“yes.”

but it was more than the fear of hatred, wasn’t it? he was scared that johnny would see him. see more than just the scars, see all of the ugly idiosyncrasies and insecurities laid bare. afraid that johnny would see the truth of how unlovable he was.

jesus he was getting so fucking worked up and dramatic over nothing.

ghost didn’t look up. he made an effort to not focus on his peripheral vision. he heard soap turn, heard the intake of breath. the silence was loud only for a second. then, deafening white noise surrounded him, inescapable, suffocating.

fuck.

he didn’t regret giving permission but god did he regret everything else; the stupid scars, the stupid nerve damage, the stupid way he had managed to fall for someone so fucking good like johnny while he was unequivocally unworthy of his love.

stop being so fucking dramatic. you are not together, never have been and never will be. reality was blatant in front of him but it didn’t stop his heart from foolishly hoping.

he heard soap stand and walk closer. saw from where he was still staring a hole in the can his feet step in front of his. saw johnny’s hands raise. he took a deep breath in, closed his eyes, and with a great deal of effort didn’t flinch when soaps fingers grazed his cheek.

both of his hands came up to cup his face, holding him and ever so slightly tilting his face up, giving him the chance to pull away. he didn’t. he may be a coward but he wasn’t backing down.

ghost eventually opened his eyes to see soap staring at him with wide eyes. he looked away, staring off to some point on the right. he hated not knowing what soap was thinking.

they stayed there for a while before soap broke the silence, muttering, “i fuckin knew you had freckles.”

it was stupid but it shocked a laugh out of ghost. he meant to drop his head, embarrassed that something so dumb made him laugh, but accidentally just pushed himself further into soaps hands making him blush.

he looked up and saw soap staring even harder than before. the chuckle died in his chest.

“do that again.”

ghost just gave him a confused look.

“smile.”

such a simple request, a one word sentence, but it set his face ablaze. his breath caught in his throat, somewhere around where his heart was still trying to choke him.

…he hadn’t thought it was that bad but soaps reaction indicated otherwise. fuck. was his it that awful? he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. this was stupid. he was stupid.

“simon,” of course, one word from johnny and it felt like he could breathe again.

“please?”

fucking goddamn soap and his stupid fucking puppy dog eyes and the way he has ghost wrapped around his fucking finger without even realizing.

ghost smiled. there was no real mirth, more a grimace than anything else. he just wanted to get this over with.

soap was still staring at him, his thumbs tracing his lips, following scars, drawing imaginary lines between freckles… if he wasn't so terrified it might have felt nice.

“Christ,” ghosts heart cracked more, “you weren't lying when you said you were beautiful.”

ghost huffed a laugh and went back to staring off to the right, the fake smile dropping. of course soap would try to lighten the mood with a joke.

his panic fled as quickly as it had consumed him, now just left sitting in soap's living room, face still cradled in caring hands, resigned to his mistakes.

he felt so tired and johnny's hands felt so inviting.

“i wasn't joking,” soap looked…upset? angry? wait— fuck, what’d he do?

ghost stared back at soap, confused and tired. soaps nails felt the grooves of the scar, catching where the skin was raised and lowered.

“you don't have to lie, soap. im a grown man. I'm not fragile. you don't need to coddle me,” ghost said it like it was a joke, hoping soap would laugh along and that this would all just blow over. that tomorrow morning they could forget this ever happened.

“are you calling me a liar?” soap’s brow furrowed. great. instead, he had managed to make everything worse and piss off soap as well.

ghost took in a deep breath, giving himself another shot at calming things down, “no, I'm not. I think you're lying, but you're not a liar,” he stood and stepped to the side, grabbing their dirty plates and walking them to the kitchen sink, “you just don't want to upset me, it's fine. I get it. you're a nice person but you don't have to lie to spare my feelings.”

“I am not fucking lying!” as per usual, all ghost had managed to do was make things worse. there’s a reason he had decided to stick to the battlefield and give up on domesticity.

“well alright then. agree to disagree,” he turned the kitchen tap and started rinsing the dishes, waiting for the water to heat up. just walk away. end it there. let us forget about this stupid blunder and move on. please just leave it. please, please, please—

“no.”

the force behind it damn near made ghost drop the plate he was holding. he managed to set it in the sink carefully and turned to face soap, who was now in the kitchen as well.

“i— I'm not just gonna fucking— simon,” soap took in a deeper breath and went to continue but ghost was faster.

“johnny,” he interrupted, walking forward with his hands up in a gesture of surrender, approaching slowly.

one last chance to not fuck everything up.

“the fact is they're called deformities for a reason. they're not cute. they're not pretty. they're your body’s way of healing what it can and protecting what it can't. it's not meant to look nice, it's just—”

“bullshit they’re not pretty! says fucking who?” the genuine distress in soap’s voice and force behind his words caught him off guard. “simon—”

he huffed and ran his fingers through his hair roughly, pulling slightly at the strands. christ, ghost needs to shut the fuck up. every single time he speaks he just upsets soap more and more.

he needs to retake his hostage negotiations courses. clearly he has forgotten everything about how to diffuse a situation.

johnny takes another second to breathe and collect his thoughts before he speaks.

“simon. I know that— that ‘this’ isn't something that's going to fix itself overnight and I don't expect it to. but, ‘the fact is,’ I think you're pretty.”

ghost opens his mouth to disagree but johnny doesn’t let him.

“no no,” johnny put his hand over simon’s mouth, shocking him into silence. he blinks twice, stupefied.

“i think— no. I know you're pretty. cute even. beautiful is a given but obviously worth mentioning.”

his hand moved to cup simon’s cheek. ghost grabbed his wrist but didn’t stop him, wether it was a warning or encouragement he himself didn’t know.

johnny continued, unperturbed, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right?”

there was a pause and simon realized he wanted an answer.

“johnny-”

“ah ah!” his hand moved back to cover his mouth, grabbing his face and shaking his head back and forth, over accentuating his words, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right? yes or no.”

he stopped shaking him and moved his hand back to simon’s cheek. simon sighed, defeated, “yes. you are right.”

johnny looked smug, “good. and what do you say when i give you a compliment you don’t agree with?”

simon sputtered, “wha— i don't fucking know—”

“nothing! you don’t say anything!” soap looked way too proud of himself and he continued, “or thank you if you feel so inclined.”

“that was a trick question,” simon replied eventually.

johnny thumbed over his scars once more, again tracing them, “sure it was. now go take a shower.”

he patted his cheek twice and walked to the hallway.

“wait,” johnny probably shook the few remaining brain cells out of his head. “this whole conversation ends with you telling me that I stink?”

“yes. rancid,” johnny opened the door to the linen closet. simon was still in the kitchen. the tap was still running.

“no dipshit, do you not remember telling me that commercial planes makes you feel gross?” johnny threw a towel at him, which he caught just in time for johnny to hit him with a bath rag.

ghost had mentioned that… ages ago, he thinks. on facetime with each other, discussing the merits of bathrooms on public transport. he had said that enclosed, crowded spaces like commercial planes or buses made him feel, well, gross. how—or why—did he remember that?

“but… I’m supposed to wash the dishes?” a weak argument against the stubbornness he was faced with but simon had officially lost track of his mind and this conversation.

johnny shot him a weird look as he walked back towards the kitchen sink. simon still hadn’t moved.

“did you think i was being serious earlier?”

“yes???” he felt like he had been given a lobotomy.

johnny decided to take pity on him and explained in a soft voice that felt out of place, “i was being sarcastic. i’m not going to make you wash the dishes, simon.”

“but that was the agreement: you cook and i wash the dishes.”

johnny laughed as if he remembered something funny, “yeah, i lied.”

simon still stood there, trying to figure out if he had a stroke. johnny had been angry, completely pissed at him, but now was letting him off the hook and calling him pretty? what the fuck is happening?

johnny turned him and pushed him towards the hallway. simon could have resisted but his resolve always seems to crumble around johnny mactavish.

“now go shower, you beautiful bastard,” soap grabbed one of the plates out of the sink and started washing it with water that had probably heated ages ago.

ghost walked towards the bathroom, feeling like he was on autopilot, limbs disconnected from his brain. his cheek still felt… odd? weird? tingly?

it felt something from where johnny had grabbed it. ghost thinks… he thinks he likes the feeling, whatever it is.

he needs to sleep.

#ghost: i look like a monster :(#soap: OH NO HES HOT #[also the interaction ghost has with the doctor is based on real life experience both me and other family members have had lmao]#also also it goes w/o saying but this isn’t negative towards cosmetic surgery but rather the cosmetic surgery industry #not pictured: me having a full scale debate w/ myself over tagging the person this is literally for #look i have anxiety alright #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #unreliable narrator #(soap is so fucking in love and ghost is so fucking stupid)#streamer au #streamer! au #streamer! soap #or is it #streamer!soap #god i hate tumblrs tagging system #my writing

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lovelybrooke · 3 months

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I'm really tired of seeing people use the "AroAce is a spectrum" argument when it comes to Alastor, especially now that the show is getting more popular. I just want to talk it about it a bit, since y'know, I'm AroAce and have a lot of opinions on it.

For reference, I've been a on and off fan on Hazbin Hotel for a long time. The pilot came out around the time I was in middle school and it was a large part of my personality for my younger years. Obviously I fell off it as I got older, but my point still stands.

Alastor was the first time I ever saw a canon AroAce character (that I knew off, I wasn't aware peridot was AroAce), and It was amazing for me. I never got to see myself be represented in a show like that, and even if he wasn't explicitly AroAce, having the creator say he was was amazing, since a lot of the AroAce characters at the time were just popular headcanons.

So you could understand my disappointment when I'd go into fandom spaces and see him be shipped with other characters, be drawn in suggestive ways, and overall his canon sexuality be ignored. Now before you comment and say "Well, Aromanticism and Asexuality are spectrums, so there's a chance he's romance and sex favorable" I want to ask you a genuine question.

Do you think that Alastor is romance and sex favorable because in the show, pilot, or any other official media he is depicted to be that way? OR, do you just think he's romance and sex favorable because it gives you an excuse to write fanfic of him where he's in romantic and sexual relationships?

I have a feeling a lot of you believe it's the second one, but would never admit it. I haven't watched the pilot in a while, but after watching through the show, there hasn't been a single point where he is shown to be romance or sex favorable. Nothing hints to that or points to that in any way.

Because ultimately this isn't about making sure you are representing his character correctly, this is about you guys disillusioning yourself into believing he's romance and sex favorable to that you guys can put him as close to allonormativity without being called out for it. You do not care about real life AroAce people who are romance and sex favorable, you care about your own comfort. And it's easier to imagine Alastor as romance and sex favorable when in reality, he's only been depicted as the exact opposite.

Do you know how I know most of ya'll don't care about real life sex and romance favorable AroAce people? Because AroAce discourse is never ending on this platform. Not too long ago there was a poll going around that had people arguing on whether or not cishet Aromantic men were valid. Aromantic people are constantly villainized and treated like monsters for having consensual loveless relationships. Asexual people constantly have their own experienced denied to their faces, and are told time and time again that they don't actually exist. AroAce people are constantly having to prove that they deserve to be in the LGBTQ+ community, and every few months there is some stupid fucking person who created discourse about a what type of AroAce gets to be in the community, just to divide us and make us feel like shit. And you know what?

You don't care.

You completely ignore or are oblivious to real life discourse surrounding the identity you claim to be an expert on. You ignore real life AroAce people who tell you you're wrong, all while going to war over your right erase an identity you really know nothing about. You would never go this hard for real life sex and romance favorable AroAce people who are constantly told they don't exist, they don't belong in the community that supposed to except them, and that they are either mentally ill or damaged. You don't care about real life AroAce people, because unless they're Tumblr sexy men, they don't matter to you.

I acknowledge that romance and sex favorable AroAce people don't get represented enough, but at some point you have to acknowledge that it less about accurately representing the character, and more about changing characters who are canonically sex/romance repulsed so that allonormative people can be more comfortable with them. If you're someone who's AroAce, and you whole heartedly believe he's romance and sex favorable, good for you, I'm not gonna argue with you.

But if you are not AroAce, and you believe he's romance and sex favorable, I want you to reevaluate why that is. I'm not saying you can't ship him, or write your fanfic, or draw your art. I'm not the police. But please try and see it from a point of view of someone other than your own. Please try and understand why taking one of the very few canonically AroAce characters and weaponizing our own identity against us so you can justify the continuous eraser of said identity is kinda annoying.

Also please don't get heated in the comments, at the end of the day this is about a fictional cannibal, I just have too many opinions.

#Hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel discourse #hazbin hotel alastor #Alastor aroace #aroace character #aroace discussion #hazbin hotel discussion

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digitalagepulao · 8 months

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Prodigal son terror

Li Jing in a fury grabbed his halberd, leapt on his horse and galloped out of the headquarters. He was astonished to see Nezha with his Wind-Fire Wheels and Fire-Tipped Spear. He swore loudly, "You damned beast! You caused us endless suffering before your death, and now that you've been reborn, you're troubling us again!"

"Li Jing! I've returned my flesh and bones to you, and there's no longer any relation between us. Why did you smash my golden idol with your whip and burn down my temple? Today I must take my revenge!"

since I'm on a Nezha streak, might as well do my design for him on the Expedition AU! given that i've chosen to give characters a closer likeness to their region, it's only fitting i do the same with import deities like Guanyin, Subodhi and Nezha.

he's a complicated figure to place in the timeline because he gained popularity as a deity much after, only really arriving in China by the time the Journey would have been set. FSYY was written closer to when JTTW was written down, and he was retroactively inserted on the Zhou Dynasty period.

so deciding what to even do with him is dicey. but then i said fuck it, mythological rules apply here, he was around for the events of FSYY, and it and JTTW are set in the same universe. and for the sake of having some fun, i decided to get funky with his concept.

Nezha had the likeness of his family when he was alive, as described in FSYY, but once he was reborn with a lotus body he gained Indian traits instead. this is to be a nod to his status as an import deity and his origin as Nalakubara, and as the centuries roll by he may present himself to mortals closer to the locals' appearance wise.

as for his looks, i drew inspiration from multiple sources. read more for my rambles <3

his armor is closer to reconstructions of Zhou dynasty-period armor, skipping over extra parts simply because his lotus body is so indestructible, there's no need for a full set;

there are two red Chinese knots with jade beads dangling from the armor ties. they are said to ward off evil spirits, which felt like a good fit for a guy known to banish demons. i picked a six-petal flower pattern, which represents reunion, unity and a bright future;

i included lotus petals and leaves on his outfit as they are common in Beijing Opera outfits for him, and his makeup is a call to it as well;

The pink from the cheeks and eyeshadow seeps into his ear shell, as to convey the way sometimes, you get so angry even your ears blush;

Another thing i referenced from Opera is the two red ribbons on his sidelocks, though I changed them to two bulbs of lotus roots;

Four petals drawn close to his urna as both to make it look like a lotus but also form five petals, which is an auspicious number;

His hair crown is a fancy princely [knot] with a lotus motif and a pearl in the center, as he was the Pearl Spirit before becoming Nezha;

I was going to go with elf-like ears but I thought I could do better, so I went for stretched earlobes instead. you can't see it that well but hopefully the very large golden earrings imply it well enough xvx;

His cheek dimples are common sight on religious images of him and it was a cute touch imo;

Younger Nezha wears a golden robe because of his title as General of the Central Altar in Daoist belief, and the center direction is connected to yellow or gold, and yellow robes are usually meant for emperors and their sons, which is a minor nod to his self-assureness and boldness;

The Cosmic Ring has spiralling grooves on it both to catch blades on it for defense but also as a callback to Opera props;

On his waist is the embroidered ball weapon he was attributed with in earlier myths, he was also meant to have the leopard skin bag Taiyi Zhenren gave him, bjt it was going to be obscured by the text so i omitted it;

A few depictions of him gave him a halo of fire, which was real cool so i added it as well.

#fengshen yanyi #investiture of the gods #fsyy #iotg #li nezha #nezha #third lotus prince #third prince nezha #expedition to the west au #bell dragon art

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mint-yooxgi · 4 months

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{3} - Fight or Flight - Yandere!Redcap!Mingi X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Fae!AU & Yandere!AU - Part of the CoDN Thrill of the Hunt Collab

Genre: Fantasy, Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Mingi X Reader

Words: 9,085

Rating: Mature - 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Please read the warnings carefully, as this is a very heavy story dealing with many dark topics. This is also all of the warnings for this fic as it is one long one shot that I had to split into multiple parts, and I'm too tired right now to individually categorize all of these warnings to their respective parts. 8 ft tall Mingi. Slow burn. Violence: depiction of a massacre, a deer being slaughtered, as well as physical, verbal, sexual, and emotional, both alluded to and not. Blood and gore. Abuse: physical, emotional, verbal, and sexual, both alluded to and implied. Assault: physical, and sexual, both alluded to, implied, and attempted. OC has a really rough past, really this isn't for the faint of heart. Whipping, both alluded to, and done. Mentions of branding. Heavy themes of possession and ownership. Deception. Arson. Really, there's a lot of dark subject matter. Mingi falls hard and fast, thus, he simps a lot for the OC, but it's not a story written by me if Mingi doesn't simp for the OC. The reader is mentioned to be both tall and chubby, but it is not mentioned often, so it shouldn't disrupt the flow of the story when ready if you are not tall and/or chubby. I think that's everything, but if I missed something, please let me know! Smut: Biting/marking, outdoor sex, fingering (fem. rec), oral (fem. rec), hand job (male rec), come eating, overstimulation, Mingi has a dig bick, sex in a spring, really, it's very soft in comparison to the subject matter. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

P.S. If there are any spelling or grammatical errors, please ignore them. I did my best through many rounds of editing, but some are liable to still slip through.

A/n: I am SO sorry this took me LITERALLY forever to complete. I meant to have this out so much earlier, and actually posted on time, but it turned out much, much longer than I ever anticipated it being. I'm really proud of how this story turned out, and I didn't want to split it into multiple parts because I felt it would take away from the story as a whole. I'm super excited for you all to read this one, as I had a tremendous amount of fun writing it, and I really hope you all love Mingi's and OC's journey as much as I do. Huge shoutout and thanks to @anyamaris and @kwanisms for listening to me ramble and rave about this story both before and during the writing process, and for always encouraging me while writing! Also, huge thank you to @sanjoongie for being so patient and understanding with me as I write this all out in full. I hope you all enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: Out of one horrible situation and into another, the cycle of abuse never stops. You've lived with monsters your whole life. So, what's one more?

P.P.S. Please don't let this flop guys. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!!!

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two

You were wrong.

Not only is this redcap the most infuriating fae possible, but he has no tact when it comes to handling you. Clearly, he’s never dealt with humans before, and he doesn’t even try to hide it. Every chance he gets, he’s shoving you around, pulling you harshly to your feet and snapping at you to ‘get a move on’ if you’re not moving at a quick enough pace for him.

Gone is the almost surreal atmosphere of peace the morning had brought you. Instead, as evening shifts into night, only irritation seems to fill the silence between the two of you. Whether he’s upset at himself for relating to a human or not is unbeknownst to you. All you do know is that he seems to dislike you more than he did the previous day.

“Are you done yet?” His voice cuts through the gentle sounds of the pond you’re currently bathing in.

Your head turns to stare at his back, noticing he stands a better guard than Windfel ever did. Not once did this fae turn around even to toy with you. Truly, he kept his word about being respectful about this kind of stuff, and for that, you should be grateful. Only, a creeping sense of dread begins to sink into your bones.

Slowly, you begin to make your way out of the pond, not quite feeling as refreshed as you should. The constant pounding of your heart within your chest reminds you that you’re still alive, and as you pull on the new clothes, you cannot keep your hands from shaking.

“Have you finished? I need to wrap your wound.” His arms are crossed over his chest, that much you can tell.

“I can do it myself.” Comes your somewhat sharp reply, looking around for where he put that roll of bandages he scavenged from a nearby town.

“No, you’re going to do it wrong.” He sighs, beginning to tap his foot against the ground. “I don’t want your wound getting infected again and slowing us down even further.”

Your features pull into a scowl. One which you are grateful he cannot see at the moment. You remain silent, tugging the loose shirt over your head once dry enough to do so. Only a grunt is given to acknowledge he can turn to face you, one which he seemingly immediately understands.

“Sit down.” He commands, walking over to you with another leaf filled with fresh paste in his one hand.

You comply, barely holding back your grumble of discontent. “Yes, General.”

The fae lets out a sharp breath through his nose, kneeling beside you on the ground. He says nothing as he begins to apply the paste over your now healing wound.

The cut on your leg is doing tremendously better in such a short amount of time. No longer does it crust at the edges, and the swelling has gone down significantly. There’s a small scab that rests over the deepest part of the cut, but the edges are much fainter than before, almost scar like in appearance. Sure, it still aches, but it’s nowhere near as horrendous or as infected as it once was.

Carefully, he spreads the paste over your cut. You notice his claws have retracted once more, and though he’s focussing intently on what he’s doing, he isn’t all that gentle. At one particular point, he adds a bit too much pressure to his fingers over the worst part of your cut, and you flinch.

A sharp hiss escapes you before you can stop yourself, and he removes his hand.

He says nothing as he discards of the leaf this time, reaching over to grab the roll of bandages. Wordlessly, he slides his one hand beneath your knee, tugging it upwards without warning.

Your initial response is to scold him, but given how close he is to you right now, combined with the fact that he is treating your wound, you don’t want to give him an opportunity to attack you. If he’s this good with treating them, then obviously he’s even better at causing them. Besides, there are ways he could torment you with the worst pain imaginable, all while making sure to still keep you alive.

It’s not like that hasn’t happened before. You would know.

There is no time, nor opportunity for you to be embarrassed right now. True to his word, he barely takes his eyes from your wounded leg the whole time he treats it. No roaming hands. No snide remarks, or suggestive comments about anything.

Whether he takes notice of the other scars lining your legs is unbeknownst to you, for he doesn’t comment on a single one. Instead, his brow is furrowed in concentration, his hands moving roughly around your thigh as he wraps the bandage around your wound. It’s almost as if he’s working subconsciously, letting his muscles repeat the monotonous motion of covering your wound without thinking. Almost as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

In the back of your mind, you begin to wonder about him. What was his past like? How did he learn to treat wounds this well? Is he truly as terrifying as you’ve been led to believe?

You catch yourself, blinking a few time to clear your vision. These are not things you should concern yourself with. You need to worry about yourself, and only yourself right now.

Looking back at the fae, you notice that his eyes are glazed. Still, he stares intently down at your thigh. You can tell he’s not paying attention, for he bandages your thigh too tightly, tying it off without a second thought.

“It’s too tight.” A blunt comment which seems to snap him out of his thoughts.

“No, it’s not.” He clicks his tongue, standing back to his feet. “Quit complaining, and let’s get a move on. I’ve already wasted enough time waiting for you today.”

“Isn’t it dangerous for me to travel at night?” You remark, tugging the fresh pair of pants over your legs as he walks over to the tree line.

“Not with me, it’s not.” Comes his gruff reply as he begins to stalk deeper into the woods. “Keep up. I’m not stopping if you fall behind.”

Without another word, and with a deep sigh, you take off after him. That stem of red spider lilies you still have with you gets hastily tucked back into your pants pocket. Despite the petals wilting every day, you cling onto it. It means too much to you, and the fact that you were able to find a single stem in the wild still makes your head spin.

Your favourite flower, come to bring you home.

Surprisingly, you manage to keep pace with the fae quite well. You can tell he’s not travelling at his top speed, but the trek is still manageable, and your thigh doesn’t throb once.

Your ankle on the other hand…

Sometime over the course of the night, your foot had started going numb. Your limp has become more prominent, and with every step you take, pain shoots up your right ankle. You manage to bear it for quite a bit longer. That is, until you lose your footing, tripping over a sudden root in your path and falling to the ground with a loud thump.

An annoyed sigh greets your ears, followed by even louder stomps heading back in your direction.

“Are you that incompetent-“ A sharp intake of breath. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m always bleeding.” You push yourself upward, feeling pain shoot through your fingertips.

Oh, yes. You forgot. You cracked your nails.

Sitting yourself on the ground, you let out a sigh of your own. Gently, you go to raise your hands to your face in order to assess the damage. However, before you can get very far, two large hands envelope your own.

“You’re a walking disaster.” He clicks his tongue, studying your fingertips thoroughly.

His touch is not soft, but it’s not as rough as this morning. Still, he turns your hands in his without thought, tugging your arms lightly forward as he brings your fingertips closer to his face.

Your expression hardens, pursing your lips. “So I’ve been told.”

He says nothing, but you do notice his gaze flick upwards to your face. A moment later, and he’s letting out another sigh. “Is there anything else I should be made aware of?”

“Well, since you’re asking,” you reply smartly, pain and irritation ridding you of your normal filter. “I haven’t been able to feel my right foot for over two hours.”

He swears lowly under his breath. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were now my own personal doctor.” You snap.

A low growl greets you in response, and you freeze. With wide eyes, you meet his own.

“I would like to make it back to my home without any further setbacks.” He snarls. “Preferably with you in one piece.”

“Didn’t realize I was so important to you, General,” you tug your hands out from his grip, and surprisingly, you do not feel the sharp sting of fresh cuts adorning your skin from his claws. In fact, it looks as if he retracted them before he even started examining your hands.

A strange, yet welcomed fact which you didn’t bother to notice until now.

“You’re not.” He spits out his reply, standing back to his full height in the next second. “Wait here. I’ll be back in a bit with some supplies.”

Without waiting for a response, he takes off into the night.

All you can hear are the sounds of the forest around you, and the faint stomping of the fae away from you as you drag yourself to rest against a tree. Finally, you feel as if you can breathe easier.

There’s a war going on within yourself. You still want to make the general so mad that he kills you in a fit of rage, while another part of you is genuinely regretting that decision. Whether it happens or not, is still yet to be seen. At least you no longer have starvation, dehydration, and infection clouding your mind.

About an hour later, the fae returns to see you having stripped yourself of your pants. The bandage he had tied around your thigh rests to the side as you let the wound breathe, and it looks the best it has in weeks. Whatever that paste is made from has really helped, for now all that remains of the initial cut is a small scar, and a minor scab.

You notice he spares a glance at your thigh. “How’s your leg?”

Your brow quirks, but you school your features into a neutral expression almost as quickly as it comes.

“Well, I’m starting to gain feeling back in my foot.” You say, watching him carefully as he crosses the short distance between the both of you. “I told you the bandages were too tight.”

“Do you ever stop nagging?” His features twist in irritation as he crouches beside you.

Almost instantly, your breath catches, and your expression falls. Your throat bobs as you swallow thickly, averting your gaze to the side. Old memories, ones you had shoved deep down inside of you resurface, and bile rises in your throat.

“I suppose I should feel grateful for having you keep me from dying.”

“Feel whatever you want to, mortal,” he sighs, handing you a canteen of water. “I have no ties to you, and you have none to me.”

“Then, what do you call this?” Pointedly, you spare a glance down at your almost fully healed thigh, making sure to catch his gaze.

“Insurance.” He states bluntly. Not even a second later, his eyes fall shut, and he’s breathing out a long sigh. “Look, I’m getting tired of repeating myself-“

“I know.” You cut him off. “I’m useless if I can’t function properly.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You didn’t have to.” You turn your head, jaw twitching as tears prick at your eyes.

You’ve heard it all before. Over and over for what feels like your entire life. Friends, family… all those that were supposed to love you, to care for you.

You nearly scoff.

Love. What a useless emotion. You’re not even sure it exists anymore. Though, you’re sure your parents would argue that they did even this for you out of whatever twisted love they claim to have for you.

No. They wouldn’t know love even if it hit them right in their faces.

No one has ever loved you. No one ever will.

“We’ll rest here until you’re fully healed, and then we’ll continue the journey back to the keep.” His voice, solid and stern, pulls you out of your own thoughts. “That way there’s no excuse as to why we need to make additional stops.”

“Yes, General,” your voice is much weaker than before, barely coming out as more than a hoarse whisper. It’s as if you’ve suddenly lost the will to fight. If you ever even had it in the first place.

A grunt is all you hear from him in response. In fact, that’s all you hear from him for the rest of the morning, and as the sun begins to rise over the horizon, you fall into a deep, restless sleep.

***

It takes two full days for your wound to fully heal. Granted it only took one for the cut to become nothing more than a scar, but it was better to be safe, than sorry.

Despite the setbacks, Mingi actually feels relieved now that he knows you won’t be able to slow him down since your thigh has healed. Looking after you hasn’t been so bad, either. Your company, surprisingly enough, can actually be quite enjoyable.

There are times where you don’t seem to filter yourself as heavily as others. He enjoys those the most. You have an attitude to you that he can appreciate. An attitude which reminds himself of his younger days, before he became the seasoned general that he is now. He honestly wishes he would see it more often from you, but every time you allow yourself to snap back at him, it’s as if you expect him to hit you for it.

Not only that, but the past few times you’ve fallen asleep, you seem to be tormented by terrors unknown to him. He can hear you thrashing against the tree you rest on, whimpering into the stillness of the night as your body attempts to curl in on itself.

It bothers him, and he doesn’t understand why.

Ever since he saw you attempting to frantically crawl away from him that day after he had slaughtered that deer, something within himself has shifted.

Mingi has always known he’s a monster. He was born a monster. He was raised a monster. He is a monster, and he’s never for one moment denied that part of himself. Of course, he has his own moral code he lives by, but again, he doesn’t enjoy wasting his time on easy prey.

If it’s not worth killing over, it’s not worth dying for.

Besides, no one respects him for the minor kills. He wouldn’t have gotten where he is today if he took the easy path. He has a reputation to uphold, and killing people that are not even worth his time only makes people fear him.

Fear isn’t what can drive people to be loyal. Respect can.

No one gains respect by slaughtering countless humans here. At least, in his opinion. It would be the same as targeting children. Who gains honour from tearing apart the weak and defenceless? Certainly not him. He never has, and he never will.

There’s no valour in that.

Still, there is something about you that irritates him to no end. Every time you call him general, he wants to rip your tongue from your throat. The way he catches you looking at him from time to time makes him want to gouge your eyes from your head. Yet, there’s something about the way you’ve come to rely on him, about being able to actually take care of something in such a way instead of destroying like he’s used to. Something about the way he feels as if he can just live around you, causes his guard to weaken and start to crumble.

A vulnerability he hasn’t felt in a long time. A vulnerability that, in actuality, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt in his entire life.

Maybe that’s why you irritate him so much.

Stupid human making him feel stupid things he’s never felt before.

The sun sets in the distance, casting a golden hue across the surrounding area. A gentle breeze cools the humid air of the day, giving way for the crisp stillness that night is sure to bring.

Still, you limp along.

Your stamina has improved since your wound has healed, and you seem to be more keenly aware of your surroundings. Enough so, that Mingi can see the familiar shine of recognition behind your eyes as the forest begins to thin up ahead.

“Shouldn’t there-“ you swallow, panting lightly. “Shouldn’t there be a town up ahead?”

A low hum in confirmation is all you receive in response as Mingi breaks through the tree line. He pauses, waiting for you to catch up. Taking the time now, he scans over the area, no annoying pests in sight. Of course, there are the town’s other inhabitants, but at least the pain in the ass seems to be gone for the moment. If his missing scent is anything to go by, Seonghwa hasn’t been home in quite a few days.

Perhaps those small set backs were more of an advantage than Mingi thought.

“Come on,” Mingi says, leading you towards a tavern across the way. “We’ll stay here for the night. I could use a decent rest in a bed instead of on the ground for a change.”

Eager eyes follow the both of you as you cross the short distance between the woods and the tavern, and Mingi can already hear the whispers floating in the air. He knows that he’s easily recognizable, given the red band tied around his upper arm, but hearing them comment about you sets his skin prickling.

The worst part is, he doesn’t know why.

Stepping inside, the familiar smells of malt ale and other fermented substances greet his nostrils. There’s a distinct stench of body odour, and malcontent lingering in the air that irritate his nose the further into the tavern he goes. The rowdy patrons are all around, laughing and jeering amongst themselves as he steps up to the counter.

Even though he spares a glance over his shoulder to check, he knows that you’re scurrying after him as fast as you can. You seem to be able to feel the pointed stares sent your way as Mingi discusses lodging arrangements with the owner.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Mingi watches you shift uncomfortably on your feet, curling in on yourself as loud voices reach the both of your ears.

“Isn’t that that infamous redcap general?” A loud whisper cuts through the noise of the tavern.

“What’s a human doing with him?” Another hisses, and Mingi can feel his one ear twitch.

“You think he’s claimed her?”

“I don’t see a mark.” Such a smug comment causes Mingi’s jaw to tick in irritation.

What ever happened to minding one’s own business?

“You think we could convince him to let us have some fun with her?”

“Maybe I should give her a mark of my own-“

“Watch your tongue before you lose it.” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, his sharp gaze locked onto the fae that had uttered such a repulsive phrase.

A sudden silence encases the entire tavern, and even your eyes go wide.

The comment from the general is so unexpected, it seems to even surprise him.

Mingi is acutely aware of all eyes on him now. Not even a drop of condensation falls against a single glass as he snatches the ward key from the counter. With his opposite hand, he pushes you along, only causing you to stumble forwards and towards the stairs at the back of the room.

“Don’t concern yourselves with business that is not your own.” Mingi snaps, practically shoving you up the stairs and out of sight from hungry, prying eyes.

Eyes of which that seem to follow you all the way to the room. A fact which only serves to irritate him more, a scowl tugging at his features as he unlocks the door with the ward key. A moment later, the entrance swings open, and he’s dragging you inside.

“This was a bad idea.” He begins to pace, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I was fine the last time I passed through this town.” Your reply is much softer than he’s used to, and he spares a glance in your direction.

There you stand, still fidgeting in your spot. Your hands tug at the long sleeves of your shirt, shoulders curling in on yourself as you intently stare at the ground. Your eyes have lost that faint shine he’s come to know over the past few days, the brightness having dulled suddenly into a blank nothingness.

He bets you’re thinking about their eyes on you, and how everyone was gazing at you like you were a piece of meat. Even he can still see the way tongues ran over sharp teeth, lips curling back against fangs in malicious grins as the scents of excitement and thrill bombarded his senses.

His own lips draw back in a scowl, and he nearly growls.

“Do you understand what they were implying?” Mingi can barely keep his breathing under control as he turns to look out the window.

Claws dig into wood, fingers nearly snapping the window frame from the pressure of his grip. What only makes this worse is he doesn’t understand why those comments have set him off so much. It’s simply typical fae talk, no different than what his subordinates had said when you first showed up at the edge of their encampment.

Thinking back on it now, the thought nearly makes him snarl.

“It’s nothing I’m not used to with men-“

“They are not men.” Mingi snaps, his chest heaving as he turns to face you.

Immediately, you recoil back, mild shock on your features. That is, until you’re schooling your expression and taking a deep breath in.

“Why should it matter what they say, then?” You keep your voice low, steady.

“It doesn’t.” His reply is quick. Too quick.

“Aren’t they your kin? Don’t you think the exact same way?” Your voice rises slightly, and the tears he can see shining in your gaze cause his chest to begin to ache.

“I have never- will never think that way.” Mingi shakes his head, fingers tangling in his locks and tugging exasperatedly at the roots. “I may not like your kind, but I don’t agree with treating them however we want to just because we can.”

His head is spinning and throbbing all at once. He feels both freezing cold and burning hot, and he cannot prevent his eyes from shifting from you to the door. His breathing, which he has always been able to master, comes in erratic pants, fangs bared as his claws scratch at his scalp.

“You had no problem with it before when it was your men saying it.”

A silence so deadly settles over the room.

In the blink of an eye, Mingi has you pinned against the wall. His arm rests over your upper chest as he looms over you, teeth bared in a snarl. Raised in the air above his head is his opposite arm, claws glinting beneath the light of the moon as he prepares to strike.

Only, the hitch in your breath pulls him back to reality.

Immediately, he stumbles away from you, staring at his hands in horror. He doesn’t register the single sob that echoes through the silence of the room like a knife, nor does he hear the frantic beating of your heart over his own racing in his ears. What he does catch, however, is the single tear that cuts a path down your cheek, and the way your trembling body collapses to the floor.

The moment you touch ground, you go limp, staring vacantly at the wall across from you.

Mingi’s hands drop to his sides, balling them into fists as he stomps over to the door.

“I’ll be back.”

The last thing he sees before the door swings shut is you supporting yourself with your hands braced upon the floor. He doesn’t give himself time to think as he storms back downstairs and straight over to the bar, ignoring the pointed stares sent his way.

He needs time to think, to sort out the mess that is his head. Perhaps you could use this time alone, too. Besides, it’s not like you can escape the room you’re in. Only he has the key to get in, and it’s not like you can jump out of the window. The glass is too strong for you to break.

You’re trapped, just like you’ve always been since he caught up to you. Yet, for some reason, that simple thought makes his brow furrow.

He doesn’t want you to feel trapped…

Frowning down into his glass, Mingi downs his ale. A few moments later, and his glass has been refilled. What a perfect way to end the day: by drowning his sorrows in a room full of boisterous fae, drinking until even the most proper of them cannot tell up from down.

About an hour into his drinking, he senses a few other fae saddle up beside him. The scraping of the stools on the ground cuts through the noise of the tavern, and much to Mingi’s annoyance, the fae from earlier that were making comments are the ones that surround him.

“So, what brings you to town, General?” The one with muted butterfly wings on his back asks. He was the one who commented on convincing Mingi to have some fun with you.

Mingi takes another sip of his drink. “Hunt.”

“Oh, so that’s why you’re with that human.” Another hums, small horns protruding from the top of his head. His skin has a slight green hue to it, and Mingi recalls the way he spoke about giving you a mark of his own. “Mustn’t have put up much of a fight, eh?”

A scowl mars Mingi’s brow, but he hides it behind the rim of his glass, downing the rest of its contents in a single shot.

“Surprised she’s not torn to shreds.” Another hums, leaning casually against the edge of the bar. He’s a bit shorter than the other two, but Mingi notes the way he bounces his one hand in the air, almost impatiently. “Or are you saving that for later?”

“Oh, you sly general, you,” the one with the horns nudges Mingi’s shoulder. “Lure the human into a false sense of security, then tear her asunder when she least expects it!”

The three fae share a laugh, fangs glinting beneath the light as their lips curl deviously in mirth.

“I thought I told you to not concern yourself with business that is not your own.” Mingi replies gruffly, slamming his now empty glass back on top of the counter.

“It’s not our fault you brought an unclaimed human into our midst.” The one leaning against the counter titters.

“Really, you should share some of the fun with the rest of us,” the winged one laughs, flicking his eyebrows in a suggestive matter.

“And what would your town’s overseer say if he could hear you now?” Mingi turns his sharp gaze towards the two fae on his right side.

If there’s one thing that Mingi can’t fault the pain in the ass for, it’s that he maintains good control over those that follow him. At least, those that reside in this town.

“Seonghwa’s not here.” The fae with the horns hums. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

Mingi’s jaw twitches. These fae have clearly done this multiple times with humans before, and gotten away with it despite Seonghwa’s rule not to touch any that enter the village under his watch. Though, with that specificity, Mingi isn’t that surprised.

��Come on, General,” the one with the wings taunts. “Think of how satisfying her shrieks of terror will be.”

A flash of you scrambling away from him in terror flashes through his mind, your desperate cries ringing through his ears.

“Humans are such weak, pathetic creatures, anyways.” The one leaning on the counter rolls his eyes as Mingi stands to his feet. “It’ll probably be the only action she ever sees in her life with how ugly she is. She’ll probably be thanking us by the end of it for make her feel desirable.”

An image, soft and pure, of you tenderly gazing down at that wilting stem of spider lilies flits through his mind, and Mingi tenses. A blink, and the once peaceful scene shifts, blood splattered over your face as tears cut fresh tracks through the dirt and grime smeared over your cheeks.

“Don’t you want to feel the warmth of her blood spilling onto your hands as you bathe yourself in its crimson flow?” The fae with the horns grins maniacally. “Taste its bitter scent as it drips down your tongue?”

Mingi’s hands, which are currently clenched into fists at his sides, begin shaking.

“Come on, General,” the one that’s leaning against the bar continues, pushing himself forwards to lean into the silent redcap’s back. “Let us have our fun. We’ll take her off your hands.”

“Yeah,” The winged one smirks, eyes glinting in the light of the tavern. “Don’t you know human meat is a delicacy around here?”

“Let alone one so young, and fresh,” the horned one snickers, his grin widening as he licks his lips. “Oh, I can’t wait to tear into her-“

Blood splatters across the top of the bar, and every patron turns to see what the sudden commotion is about. Not a sound can be heard for several tense moments as realization settles over the entire room.

The horned fae can do nothing but open and close his jaw, blood spilling from his mouth as he stumbles away from the redcap across from him. Horror paints his features for a brief second before anger is taking over, watching as Mingi drops the now severed muscle in his hand, the horned fae’s tongue thudding against the floor.

“I warned you.”

Without another word, Mingi is storming outside the tavern to get some fresh air. The rest of the fae around him immediately part to let him pass, low whispers following him all the way outside. His hand clenches repeatedly, feeling disgusted by the wet warmth that covers his fingers.

Normally, Mingi would revel in the feeling. He loves the way blood coats his skin when he goes in for the kill, not to mention maiming something that annoys him. Sure, he has his morals, but that doesn’t mean he won’t put in the effort when the time calls for it.

Mingi doesn’t quite exactly know why he reacted the way he did. He put up with his men boasting about wanting to do much worse to you while back in the encampment. Yet, how three unknown fae could rile him up so easily only makes the confusion and anger he’s feeling all the more prominent.

It’s only because you’re still technically on a hunt with him. You’re not home free just yet. At least, that’s what he tells himself. He has to make sure you both make it back unharmed, and that includes not letting other fae take advantage of you.

No other reason.

None at all.

Taking a deep breath in, Mingi lets the crisp night air fill his lungs. He flicks his wrist, more blood splattering against the ground as he scowls down at his hand. His whole body is tense, and he’s surprised his teeth don’t crack from the force at which he clenches his jaw.

He should probably check on you soon. It’s been a long day, and all he wants to do is rest. No more dealing with this stupid shit for the moment. It’s time for him to turn his brain off.

Besides, he could use the downtime.

Heading back inside after about five more minutes, Mingi flexes his hand. The now dried blood cracks over his skin, and a feeling of unease settles inside his chest. The other three fae are nowhere to be seen, and at the way a few of the other patrons spare looks his way out of the corners of their eyes, he can tell something is off.

It’s quiet.

Too quiet.

***

For half an hour, you do not move from your spot.

Your ankle throbs as you curl up on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as best as you can. A familiar position, as you find your tears quickly depleting as your entire being goes numb.

Blankly, you stare at the opposite wall. You were this close to getting him to kill you, and you don’t know if you’re more upset at yourself or him for not seeing it through.

It’s not like you trusted him, nor do you necessarily trust him in general. However, faced with the same scenario you’ve played out so many times before, all you could see was that monster covered in blood, ready to strike you down once more.

There’s a bitterness that builds within your chest, but you don’t know if it’s at yourself, or the fae. You were so close to being done with all of this. Are you that horrible at committing to something, and seeing it through, that not even a fae wants to kill you? Are you that useless that you can’t even do that right?

Taking in a shaky breath, you finally push yourself up into a sitting position. Your whole body groans in protest, muscles aching due to the position you had been laying in on the cold, hard floor. Slowly, you pull yourself to your feet, mindful of the twinge in your right ankle as you hobble over to one of the side doors.

You’re pretty sure you saw a bathroom on the way in.

Time seems to pass languidly, and much too quickly all at once. By the time you pull yourself out of the tub, you have no idea if the redcap has returned or not. You didn’t hear his telltale footsteps stomping through the room, but you’ve learned that he can be quite light on his feet when he wants to be. Who knows how much time you have left to yourself, anyways.

As you’re drying off, you can faintly hear a commotion coming from the direction of the stairs. It seems as if one of the patrons has gotten too rowdy, for all seems to still a moment later.

You shake your head, wrapping the surprisingly fluffy towel around your plush body, and limping back into the main area of the room. The redcap is nowhere in sight, but there seems to be a fresh pile of clothes laid out on the bed. There’s even a clean set of undergarments for you, and as you look closer, you realize that it’s actually your old set. Upon a thorough inspection, they appear as if brand new, washed and dried to perfection.

Such a small gesture, whether through some form of magic, or something else, causes your heart to swell. It’s been a long time since you’ve had anything done for you like this, and to say it means a lot would be a tremendous understatement.

Feeling the material of your undergarments between your fingers, you let out a soft sigh through your nose. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you begin to change, managing to pull everything on quickly. There’s still a faint warmth clinging to the material of the clothes, as if they’ve been left out in the sun for too long, or have rested beside an open fire. It calms you, and breathing starts to become a little bit easier.

Standing from the bed, you can hear muffled voices begin shouting at each other from down the hallway. You figure them to be other patrons staying overnight, so you think nothing of it to walk towards the bathroom to hang your towel upon the back of the door. You’re sure you saw a little hook there before…

Just as you go to reenter the bathroom, the main door to the room swings open. You expect it to be the redcap returning from wherever it is that he went, but instead, what you see, or rather, whom, has you freezing right in your tracks.

Three unfamiliar fae stand before you. One has light green skin and horns, who seems to be bleeding from his mouth. Another has large wings, akin to a butterfly, with a neutral coloured pattern painted over them. The third is very human-like in appearance. He’s shorter than his two companions, with pointed ears, sharp teeth, and claws that adorn his features.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here.” The one with the wings steps forwards, a malicious grin tugging at his lips.

Naturally, you take a step backwards, your heart jumping into your throat. Your eyes dart between the three fae as they creep towards you, matching their pace with each step backwards you take. In the back of your mind, you begin to wonder if it was the redcap that gave them the key to unlock this room.

“Don’t act so coy, Doll,” the human-like fae drawls, his fangs prominent as he smiles wickedly at you. “We’re only here to have some fun. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Please, I don’t want any trouble,” you say weakly, lifting your hands before you slightly in a defensive position.

Boisterous laughter greets your ears as the door to the room swings shut behind them, sealing your fate. There’s no way the other fae is going to come back to save you now. You’re stuck, and this time, you really will die at the hands of three unfamiliar fae who look at you like an object they’re going to enjoy ripping apart.

“You should have thought of that before you waltzed in here without a claim, acting like you own the place,” the one with wings spits, and you can hear the green one gargle out something that sounds like a noise of agreement. Only, more blood escapes his mouth, and he ends up spitting it in your direction and onto the floor at your feet.

“You’re not going to look much different than that pile of blood once we’re done with you,” the human-like one says, a sick, twisted sense of glee lighting up his features.

“Until then, you live to serve us.” The butterfly winged fae adds sharply. “We’ll take all the pleasure we can from this pathetic body of yours, and after each round, you’re going to thank us for even bothering to touch you.”

You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat, skin prickling in disgust as bile builds in your chest. Your stomach drops, and before you can think, you spin on your heel, attempting to make a break out the window.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The human-like fae blocks your path, grabbing your wrists in his hands harshly and holding you in place.

“Let me go!” You begin to thrash around to no avail, tripping over your own feet as you get dragged back and towards the one bed.

“Oh, this one has some fight left in her,” the winged one snickers, leaning casually against the wall as he observes the scene. “Looks like that general was too easy on this one. Guess we’ll have to make up for lost time.”

“You should be thanking us for even looking at a disgusting creature such as yourself.” The one that had dragged you towards the bed throws you upon it, wasting no time in pinning you down upon the mattress.

Your protests and pleas to stop fall on deaf ears. In fact, the more you struggle, the more it seems to delight the three fae closing in around you. Thrashing beneath his harsh hold only earns you a knee to the stomach, and you cry out in pain.

Tears leak out of the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as you feel hands groping you all over as the fae above you keeps you captive beneath him. This scene is all to familiar to you, and just as with all those times before, no one is coming to your rescue.

No matter how loudly you scream, no matter how much you beg, struggle, and cry, no one will care.

The only certainty that now awaits you is death.

“Stop struggling,” the fae above you hisses, his one hand pinning your wrists above your head as he adds more pressure to the knee digging into your stomach. “Shut up, and take it like pathetic human you are.”

The moment you see the fae reach a clawed hand towards your shirt, you stop breathing.

It feels as if time stops. One moment the fae is above you, pinning you down unforgivingly. The next, he’s gone, the pressure on both your wrists and stomach completely having disappeared.

A sickening crunch echoes throughout the room, followed by an immediate scream of pain.

A blur moves through the room, and suddenly, you see a wing get tossed towards the window, followed shortly by another. The tearing sounds resonate through the room, followed almost immediately by muffled screams and pleas for mercy.

Only one figure remains within view, and as he uncurls himself into a standing position, his full height looms over the entire room. His towering form fills the space around you, and as you lay upon the bed, you feel as if you can breathe again. Never have you been so grateful to see that terrifying redcap standing across from you, but still you cannot prevent your body from shaking.

“All this for a fucking human.” A voice from the ground spits harshly.

Looking down, you see the green fae cowering in the corner, and the one with the once beautiful butterfly wings laying face down on his stomach. His back is completely torn asunder, blood coating the entire area as his wings lie in torn heaps upon the ground.

“You’re going to break code just for a stupid mortal?” The same fae hisses, pure anger on his features as he trembles beneath the redcap’s piercing gaze.

“You can’t kill us.” The one human-like fae by the window laughs. He seems to be holding his hands before himself, fingers severely deformed and sticking out in odd angles. Bones peek through his flesh, and blood coats every inch of his hands, but that does not prevent the way his whole body trembles as the redcap takes a menacing step towards him.

“You’re not dead yet, are you?” The general spits, gaze sharp as he pointedly looks between all three fae cowering around the room.

Frantically, they shake their heads.

“That’s what I thought.” He snaps, lips pulled over his fangs in a snarl. “I doubt any of you want to chance a duel against me given the state you’re all in. Not that’d you’d survive, even at full strength.”

Again, the three fae shake their head. Though this time, scowls adorn their features.

“Now,” the redcap’s eyes flash, a low snarl permeating the air. “Get out of my sight before I rid you all of yours.”

All three fae scramble for the door, the human-like one managing to trip over his own feet and land harshly on his broken hands. A sharp cry escapes him, and the horned fae ends up having to pull the other to his feet, soon supporting both broken fae as they tumble out of the room.

You can hear the redcap muttering under his breath, leaning down to pick something up from the floor. Not even a second later, and he’s crushed what appears to be a second ward key in his hand, tossing it over his shoulder without another thought.

He turns to you.

There you lie, stiff as a board on top of the one mattress. The other bed lays untouched to your side, but all you can do is stare with wide eyes at the redcap before you. Your gaze darts over the blood splattered on his skin, the red dotting his clothing in random patterns.

Your lungs burn, and your eyes sting. Yet, still, you do not move. No words escape you, not trusting your voice for the moment as you wait for him to move.

He takes a cautious step forward, but you fail to see the way his gaze softens as he does.

A whimper escapes you, another tear sliding from the corner of your cheek.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he lifts his hands, palms facing upwards to show you he means you no harm. “Breathe.”

Oh, yeah. You should probably fill your lungs with air. No wonder your chest is burning.

A stuttering gasp escapes you as you heave a large breath into your lungs. However, the second you do, a harsh sob escapes you. Immediately, you’re scrambling back on the bed, a hand clutching over your stomach where that fae dug his knee into you. Your wrists throb, more tears blurring your vision as the redcap takes another step towards you.

“Stay away.” The plea is but a desperate whisper upon your lips, chin trembling as you attempt to curl in on yourself.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Still, he keeps his hands in the air, palms facing towards you. “You have my word.”

Your gaze catches on the blood staining his clothes, smeared over his skin, and you shake your head.

For a moment, you swear you watch his brow furrow, only for realization to line his features. He straightens, doing his best to move in the least threatening manner possible.

“Stay here.” His voice is low, an edge of worry lining his command.

Before you can even react, the fae disappears into the bathroom. You can hear the sound of water, followed by some frantic scrubbing. Then, more water trickling along with the movement inside the bathroom.

The whole time you sit on the bed, your gaze is locked on the little opening where the main door to the room and the door to the bathroom reside. You can faintly hear things being shuffled around you, and you swear you catch something dart across the room out of the corner of your eye. It’s small, and quick, but when you shift your head to look, all that greets you is empty space.

An empty room devoid of any of the mess you just witnessed stain it.

The blood splatters are gone, along with the tattered remains of the one fae’s wings. There’s even a fresh set of clothing at the end of your bed by your feet, completely identical to the ones you’re currently wearing.

You swallow thickly.

Turning your head, you begin to look around the room once more. Your eyes search for one thing in particular, and you find it resting beside you on the bedside table. It’s almost as if it had been placed delicately beside you after someone had realized the horrifying events that have just taken place.

The red spider lilies are crushed, the stem broken in two. The flower that means so much to you has been tread upon like it’s nothing, reflecting exactly how you feel in this moment. Only a few petals remain, wilted and dead, clinging to the plant for dear life in a final attempts to maintain what once was pure.

Slowly, you reach over and take the dying stem into your trembling grip.

A choked sob escapes you, and you’re quick to slap a hand over your mouth. Your eyes squeeze shut. The hand you have holding the flower also clutches at your throbbing stomach as your whole body shakes with the weight of your situation.

What you’ve been through - what you’re going through - you cannot take it anymore.

The hand that caresses the top of your head is soft, but the unexpected touch still makes you nearly jump out of your skin. Pain lingers in your gaze as you turn to see the redcap staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

No, not unreadable. You just cannot accept that someone is actually looking at you in concern, rather than pity for once.

He pulls his hand away, hesitant in the way he leans the slightest bit over the bed that you’re curled up on. His normally looming figure doesn’t seem so intimidating all of a sudden, almost as if his features have softened beneath the faint glow of the moon.

You watch him carefully, observing his every movement with a wary glint to your gaze. He saved you. He protected you, and you don’t know if that scares you more than if he had sent those other three fae after you like you had originally thought. His actions confuse you, and more than anything, you’re tired.

Exhaustion doesn’t even come close to the immense fatigue you feel. You’re tired of the life you were given. Tired of the life you’ve been forced into. Tired of living.

Honestly, you don’t know what to do anymore. It seems accepting your fate isn’t going exactly as you thought it would, nor is it as easy as it seems.

“Are you hurt?” Though he keeps his voice soft, the sudden timbre cutting through the silence of the room still makes you jump.

You shake your head, hand tightening around that broken flower over your stomach.

His eyes glance the movement, and his expression falls slightly.

“I only wish to make sure you’re okay.” Again, he keeps his voice soft, tone steady as he meets your gaze.

You bite your lower lip, attempting to keep it from wobbling as a single sob wracks your entire body. Then another, and then another, until you’re breaking down before his very eyes.

Tears stream down your face as you continue to muffle your sobs behind your one hand. Your eyes squeeze shut, simply wishing to disappear in this very moment. You wish you had never been born, where nothing but servitude, injustice, and hell rule your life with an iron grip.

From the very first memories you can recall, someone has always been using you. Whether it be your parents, friends, or other family members, you’ve always lived to serve. No one has ever cared for you, and no one has ever fought for you.

It all feels like one big joke. A lie concocted by the monster stalking you through your every waking nightmare, ready to jump out and laugh at you for even thinking anyone could ever care for you.

Yet, despite the darkness swirling within, a light begins to peek through.

Softly, the bed dips as the fae rests a knee on the mattress. His hand strokes gently over your head, tentatively pulling you into his arms as he settles himself against the headboard.

“Shh, it’s okay,” his voice is calm, soothing. “I’ve got you.”

He holds you against his chest, cradling your head in the palm of his hand. He’s hesitant as he comforts you, making sure his arms are loose enough to allow you to pull away if need be. Only, you do not shy from his touch, instead finding it oddly satisfying that he of all creatures chose to comfort you.

Most important of all, you let him.

“I won’t let anything else harm you,” he says softly. “Not while I’m here to protect you.”

His one hand strokes lightly over your back, and though a shiver caresses your spine at the first touch, you find yourself melting into the warmth of his embrace. It’s soothing, and everything you’ve always needed but have never gotten in your entire life. A safety that shouldn’t be as welcoming as it is.

His body is firm and lean against your own. A solid foundation which holds you steady as you cling onto the fabric of his now clean shirt with your one hand. Your sobs are muffled into his chest, your sadness being absorbed into the material adorning his skin as he cradles you to him.

After some time, you feel his one hand shift downwards, placing itself over your own on top of your stomach. The warmth that you can feel radiating from his skin is welcomed, and it helps to ease the ache you feel lingering within. Softly, he begins to hum, his chest vibrating with the gentle sounds as he continues to cradle your head to his chest using his opposite hand.

The steady sound of his heart pulses beneath your ear, and the constant sound soothes you even further. You don’t realize it, but you curl in closer into him, breathing finally evening out as you start to calm down.

“Why did you-“ You swallow the dryness in your throat, sniffling lightly. “Why did you do that?”

Though your voice is barely above a whisper, you know he still hears you loud and clear.

“I… don’t know,” his brow furrows slightly, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “My body just moved.”

You say nothing in response, unsure of how to reply to such an admission. You know that he cannot lie, but that doesn’t mean he cannot stretch the truth. Really, you shouldn’t be letting yourself be coddled by him, it’ll only make it hurt more when he betrays you in the end. At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

You are so used to disappointment, of having false hope, that anything you believe to be too good to be true always is. Tomorrow you’ll wake up, and he’ll be back to despising your existence, only finding value in what you can do for him.

The same as it always was. The same as it always will be.

#thrill of the hunt #cultofdionysusnet #mfu net #yandere mingi #yandere ateez #mingi scenario #mingi imagine #ateez scenario #ateez imagine #ateez au #kpop au #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #fantasy au #fae au #chubby reader #tall reader #yandere kpop

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anglingforlevels · 8 months

Text

Nature's Losers (Yandere Anglerfish x Reader)

CW: body horror, violence, non-graphic death depiction, reader is kinda useless in this, swearing. stalking and general creepiness, monsterfuckery, bad writing, dead dove.

Minors DNI

In nature, there’s winners and losers. Although enthusiastic biology professors throughout your school years had argued that, by virtue of surviving and continuing to survive and reproduce, there weren’t any losers among the living.

Late-night nature programs made it hard to agree, when they featured hapless creatures like the male anglerfish, doomed to fumble through the darkness through smell to find an elusive mate with the only end goal of holding onto the mate they found, ultimately, dying a parasite. Nature certainly picks losers, or so you had thought back then.

You hadn’t spared much thought for the female anglerfish in your assessment, it just seemed obvious that the loser in the equation was the male.

That day too, the day you met it.

It was a simple day by the oceanside, you were trying to enjoy a warm summer day through an increasingly harsh breeze, emphasize on trying, as the breeze seemed determined to outgrow its label of breeze to become a gust of wind, an achievement of personal growth that you were not in support of.

That’s when you spotted him. By the rocky hillside, where the rowdy waves crashed against rocks out amidst the water, before growing still and reaching its end by the hillside, but not without having splashed said hillside wet in the process. A small figure laid, collapsed, among the rocky land.

“Is that a child?!”

Panicked, you rushed out there, navigating between slippery rocks and wet sand. Your outfit clinging to your legs, which you ignored in your pursuit to reach the collapsed child. Getting closer, it didn’t seem to be a child at all.

Though, he was small. He seemed barely big enough to go to your armpit, even as his figure was fully splayed out. But he didn’t seem particularly young, or even youthful. He didn’t seem old or mature either. He just seemed odd. He felt undefined, like something that hadn’t been developed or fully rendered, with colors washed out.

Stepping closer, your heart rate spiked as you noticed the way his skin seemed too pale and paper-thin, he almost felt transparent, so much so that it felt as if a lazy sunbeam would reveal shadows of bones encased in flesh. Christ, had you found a corpse? He didn’t look bloated like a drowned corpse ordinarily would, quite the opposite but still, was this really a living person?

With his brittle and scrawny figure laid out, bruised and still upon the rocks, it really felt as if you were watching a shattered doll carefully positioned. You swallowed.

“Hey, uh, are you- are you okay?”

At this, he opened up his eyes, revealing one key characteristic of note. Big, milky-white, and slightly bulging eyes. You startled a little at the sudden intensity as he fixed you with a relentless stare, for how lifeless the rest of him had seemed, it appeared as if all life in him had been dedicated to those eyes, and yet their dedicated stare felt purposeless, as if it he saw nothing.

You quickly snapped out of it, instead shifting to relief at the fact he wasn’t dead.

“Hey, what happened?” You asked, but he simply continued staring at you, not even shifting his head, instead following your movements with his eyes exclusively. You cleared your throat before trying again with a gentler tone. “Hey, it’s okay. Can you tell me who are you?”

He repeatedly opened and closed his mouth slightly, and while you weren’t sure what that really meant – and you were increasingly unsettled by the lack of blinking – you decided to brush the growing discomfort aside. Really, given his situation, acting a little unsettling didn’t seem too unreasonable, the guy was probably in shock, so you took the fact he reacted at all, as a good sign.

You laid a hand on his shoulder, hoping it might offer some comfort, but almost retracted it per reflex at his cold, clammy skin.

“Goodness, you’re freezing.” You were about to take off your cardigan for some kind of cover, when you realized that your clothes was, of course, soaking wet and clinging to you, from the climb here. So, instead you held him, hoping your body warmth could provide anything, as you frantically fumbled with your phone to call for an ambulance. Honestly, with a temperature like this, you were surprised he wasn’t a corpse yet.

He burrowed further into your embrace, his head resting in the crook of your neck, as if desperate to get closer than what the laws of physics allowed. His breathing grew heavier, and his teeth accidentally scratched you in what you assumed was clumsily expressed distress, you couldn’t tell if the drips you felt was tears or simply ocean water. You tried to soothe him by rubbing his back as your call got through.

Sitting like this, more than anything, you had felt that nature really did pick losers, a pitiful truth.

You weren’t sure how long it took before the ambulance arrived, but the chill of his body felt as if it had seeped through you, zapping out most of your own warmth, and you were now shivering yourself as well. You were planning on going home for a warmth bath and then going to bed, since you had work in the morning, and your boss weren’t exactly lenient, so even with your spare time being spent like this, you hoped to at least be well-rested physically.

But when they tried to usher him off you to cover him in a blanket, he clung desperately onto you, nails digging into your skin. Your heart ached for him, it really did, you were sure he were feeling disorientated and scared, but it was best to leave this kind of thing in the hands of professionals, and, while you felt like a jerk for it, you still had to think about yourself and your depressingly early shift tomorrow morning, a shift you’d only survive through with the company of your friend and coworker Julia, and the upcoming weekend off.

Prying him off you was easy. Even his desperate, fumbling grasp around you didn’t amount to being much more than feathery, with even gentle prying leaving him stumbling a bit from the force. It was hard to tell if it was due to his sickly state or just general, physical weakness.

You did really hope the best for him.

“Hm?”

On your way home, as you separated from the crowd after a good ten minutes of walking, you took notice of steps behind you that echoed out with a loud, inelegant thud, thud, thud. You turned around and furrowed your brows in perplexation. The sickly complexion and the stare was undeniable – it was him.

Walking with clumsy steps, he moved forward with the blank, staring expression he had donned when you first found him as well, a poorly wrapped blanket still around him but gliding off as he continued to move forth slowly but resolutely, paying it no mind.

“Did you… Follow me?”

All the way from the oceanside? Your hands felt clammy at the thought of him following you between the crowds and many corners – it couldn’t be an accident, and in the first place, he was supposed to have been in a hospital by now, or at the very least, still inside the ambulance.

He didn’t answer, though you hadn’t expected him to, he just kept moving closer and closer. Perhaps it was his empty stare and clumsy movements, but it felt as if he moved with one singular purpose, not as in he was driven, but rather, he lacked any other intentions behind his movement than his goal.

Something deep within you seemed to come undone at that, an unsettling feeling grasping hold of you. You didn’t think he was able of hurting you, really, you were surprised he could even stand, yet goosebumps littered your skin, there was just something wrong about him.

He can’t do anything to you, it’s okay. It’s fine. You reminded yourself through a shaky breath. That’s right, you bested him physically, so, you ran. With the speed he was at right now, you could surely manage to lose him, and then that would be that.

You’d avoid this area for a while, it wasn’t like you came here a lot anyway, and that would be the last of this. It felt more like you were pleading with yourself rather than stating a fact, and you hated that sense of irrationality, after all, that was all it was.

This was creepy but not dangerous, you were sure, you had to be sure. So, you ran. You ran and didn’t stop. Not until your lungs and sides burned, and you stood before your apartment complex. Looking around, he was nowhere to be seen. Even after entering the building, which only residents could enter, and your dingy apartment, you didn’t see him from your small window.

The warm bath helped calm your nerves a bit and you went to bed, to face a new day, one devoid of him.

“Okay, so you think he went Wolverine on the door. Wasn’t he like, super weak?” Julia asked, as she unloaded the cargo of the day, prompting a sigh from you.

This morning, when you had woken up and left for the bus, you had noticed scratches on the door to the building, and had had a sinking feeling, but you hadn’t seen anything of him or any other sign of him. you had confided in Julia about the experience, though Julia seemed skeptical about whether the scratches even made up a sign about him having managed to find your apartment to begin with.

“I don’t know, I know it sounds stupid, but seriously, he just kept following me.” You reiterated this for what must have been the thousandth time, and judging by Julia’s expression, that estimate couldn’t be far off.

“Have you considered calling the police about stalking?”

“Well, it’s not like he’s done anything, or that I know he’s stalking me. It’s not like I saw him by my apartment to begin with.”

And stalking didn’t feel like the right word. It felt more like you were being pursued. Less thought-out and hidden, instead he seemed to be following the most direct path he could perceive towards you in the most literal way possible, and while it should feel less threatening and invasive, the simplicity and literalness of his behavior didn’t do much in the way of comfort.

Most of all, you didn’t feel like it warranted a call to the police, especially with a pursuer this ineffective at pursuit. Not when you had heard stories of others reporting stalking, cases much worse and more explicit, yet getting dismissed, you were sure your case would get you laughed out of the station.

And then, a bump took them out of the conversation, and your heart dropped. At the door, he stood. Fumbling around, lightly bumping into the door in attempts to open it or bypass it. “No fucking way.”

Julia glanced at the small, scrappy guy clumsily failing to open a door, with a raised eyebrow. “And this is the guy that’s got you all worried? I mean, freaked out I get, but…”

But I doubt he could do much, even if he tried.

You looked away, frowning. Julia took notice and sighed, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry, are you okay?”

It felt unfair, but somehow you almost felt worse from her words. Julia had always lived by the idea that, even if something wasn’t necessarily real, it still felt real to the person who was upset. But you knew that this was real, this pit in your stomach, it wasn’t for nothing, it wasn’t just nerves, you just couldn’t… explain it.

Julia understood it was terrifying to see someone possibly following you, and even though the store was public, she understood it being scary to see him here all of a sudden, without knowing if it was a coincident or on purpose, but for you, it was more than that, but you couldn’t put it into words. You didn’t understand it. The frustrating acid of “it’s real for you” poisoned Julia’s good intentions, but you swallowed the bitterness, and smiled a forced smile.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s… it’s fine.”

Julia shook her head. “It’s not. You don’t feel safe, and that’s not okay. Listen, we’ll be going on our weekend camping trip tomorrow, and there’s no way that the guy who can’t figure out doors, can find you out there, so… Stay at my place tonight, then we’ll go camping, and we’ll figure this out, alright?”

She squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, and you felt a pang of guilt. God, you were such an asshole. You nodded, but your eyes were still fixed on him, luckily no one had gone through the door, thus giving him access, because you needed this job, you couldn’t afford any more late rent and your boss was an asshole, so bailing wasn’t an option but if he got into the store, you’d… Fuck, you wished you could barricade the doors.

Then suddenly he stopped his fruitless attempts, maybe even he had a limit wherein he recognized something to be futile. His vacant eyes shot up and stared directly at you. And he simply stood like that, absentmindedly clenching his jaw as if chewing. Your heart pounded against your chest, it felt almost painful as if you felt an actual recoil from its force, but you couldn’t focus on that when the world seemed to blur together around you, leaving only his eyes, pooling in all light despite their own pale shine.

Julia glanced at you, worry barely hidden on her face, before clapping her hands resolutely. “That’s it – By now, even our boss will accept us having called the cops on this guy for being a public nuisance. Or, if nothing else, he’ll agree that the guy is definitely scaring customers away, what with the blocking of the door and general creepiness.” Julia said, though you suspected she’d be scolded for it regardless, and you knew that she knew that too.

He had begun to lean against the door. Man, you couldn’t wait for camping trip…

Even when time seems to stand still, eventually it caves in, making way for the approaching future, settling into the current present, which was, unfortunately, you sweating profusely as you fought to set up a tent, but even the frustrating battle of tents could not deter your relief and joy at finally having arrived at the weekend, and more importantly, the camping trip.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to bend that way.” Julia commented. You rolled your eyes at it.

“A lot of words coming from the person not helping me set it up.”

“Hey, you oh so cruelly banished me from helping, remember?”

“You’re just not that good at it.”

“Right, because this is the pinnacle of putting up tents. I salute your hard work.”

Julia’s unhelpful commentary aside, you were almost done, you just needed to focus. As if that was a cue, your focus was shattered by something rushing through a bush, and instinctively let go of the tent, as you tensed up.

And then a rabbit jumped out, making its escape from the loud sound of tent gear clattering. The world felt woozy for a moment as you collected yourself, breathlessly laughing. The tension still lingered in the air, but Julia made quick work of it.

“I gotta say, I think I’m a little better at putting up tents than that.” She said, gesturing to the pile of now fully undone work. The tension dissolved and the nervous laughter turned sincere. Julia was, benevolently, allowed to assist with setting up the tent – to her great dismay – and you laughed and talked together as you set up camp.

After a job well-done, you both felt a meal was in order, so Julia found the ingredients as you collected firewood while the sun was still out. With your arms full of twigs, your attention suddenly snapped to a bush, at the sound of the leaves being rustled quite harshly. No doubt by a particularly ungraceful critter, hopefully one as cute as the rabbit.

You were about to laugh and comment on how they must be a magnet for forest animals when a small but very humanoid figure stepped forth instead.

Your blood seemed to freeze.

It wasn’t like it was impossible to follow them. With the smarts and know-how, one could find out where they were camping. And then, it was just as simple as taking an uber. Or you could simply trail Julia’s car here.

Except, the torn clothes. The scarred and bruised skin. The ruffled, dirtied look. He had not gotten here by car.

“Fucking hell.” Julia’s whispered words said it all, fucking hell was right.

You stood frozen. Unable to tear yourself from his stare. He opened his mouth-

“Let’s go!”

It was first when Julia’s frenzied voice called out, and pulled your arm, that you began to move. Absentmindedly, you took notice of his bloody, jagged nails. It took a moment before the adrenaline kicked in, and you stopped being dragged rather than running yourself.

The car, they just had to get to the car and leave. Recoup, figure something out, cool their heads, just, they needed to get away. You practically flung the door open when the two of you reached the old car. Neither of you bothered with seatbelt before starting the car.

But all it did was cough sadly.

“Huh? It can’t have run out of gas.” Julia looked bewildered, trying to start it again, only for it not to turn on at all. “Oh – Oh. You have got to be kidding me”

“Care to clue me in?” Your voice cracked slightly, and Julia glanced at you, before composing herself, and trying to smile reassuringly, though her smile wavered.

“Well, it’s just, the battery. It’s dead. But” she hurriedly added, seeing the way your face fell at her words, “I have an extra one. Since we were going on a trip away from any kind of mechanic.”

“Right… But we didn’t park that far from the camp.” He’ll reach us before.

Julia nodded seriously. “That’s why, we’ll run. We’ll circle around, since he’s following you, if we get him far enough away, we can probably give ourselves enough time. We’ll run straightforward till we reach the cliffs, and then back.”

You didn’t like that idea very much, willingly letting yourself be chased and running around in the forest when dusk was approaching, neither felt appealing. But they didn’t have a lot of options.

“Since I’m the one he’s following, why don’t I do that while you change the battery?”

“And leave you to run around alone with a freak after you? No way. ‘sides, I wouldn’t freeze up in a fight.” Julia said, her smile no longer wavering. You weren’t sure if there was enough words to fully show your appreciation for Julia, warmth pooling in your stomach, despite everything, it felt a little more okay with Julia by your side.

So, the two of you got out of the car, and waited anxiously for the sound of him approaching. Neither of you had talked about how he had gotten here, or known where to find you, perhaps none of you wanted to breach the topic.

Finally, you heard footsteps. And you sprinted. Then after a while, you’d wait for him to get closer. Then sprint again. On repeat. The darkness was rapidly increasing, forcing you to lower your speed, lest you injure yourself, and with the night animals awakening, it was both harder to hear and see him approaching.

“Just a little more, alright?” Julia said, between heavy breaths. The small sound of bells from her necklace and the way she held your hand, was a comforting reminder of her presence, amidst the darkness of the forest, each dancing shadow and crunching leaf reminding you that, hidden somewhere, was he. “Waves, listen, thank god, waves.”

Just as Julia had said, when you strained your ears, you heard the waves crashing into the cliffside. On burning, wobbly legs, you reached your destination, the trees giving way for the cliff edge.

“We probably don’t need to wait for him to be within hearable range, this time. Let’s just make our way ba-“

Crack.

Out he stepped. Only meters away. He lifted his hand up, as if reaching out to you already. You needed to move but only your beating heart seemed to get the memo. Then Julia flashed by, lunging at him.

Watching them both fall to the ground; it was a reminder. No matter how creepy he was, no matter how relentless – he was basically a stack of cards waiting to be knocked down by the wind. But you couldn’t help but feel like there were something more to it, a danger lurking within him.

Even as he was wrestled to the ground, his eyes stayed on you.

“Ouch!” Julia yelped, accidentally letting go of him, clutching her hand. “He bit me. it’s- it’s fine.”

You had seen the red liquid running between her fingers, even though she tried to hide it. It wasn’t fine. He, in the moment of being released, got up and returned to his goal of reaching you. Julia grabbed onto his ankle, forcing him down once more. You noticed that she used only one hand, the other curled up against her chest still.

He kicked his legs while continuing to attempt to crawl closer, somehow not paying attention to Julia beyond “hindered movements”, he seemed to just keep going despite his severe weakness. His kicks were weak but even so, a kick to the face was still unpleasant, enough so that he managed to squirm out of her hold to stand up.

But the sight of Julia’s pained expression, her hand bleeding profusely – you felt angry. Far angrier than the fear that gnawed at your core. Your hand searched for something, landing on a branch, and you jumped forth, hitting him.

You hadn’t expected him to be this frail and light, that it would practically send him flying, edging closer to the edge of the cliff. He stumbled around, the stones beneath his feet too loose for him to regain balance. He grasped blindly out for something to support him, as his body threatened to take a plunge down the cliffside.

His hand reached Julia’s necklace, as she was still laid on the ground. Before she could swat his hands away or do anything – a force stronger than either of us overpowered them, gravity pulling them downwards.

Your heart sank but even moving as fast as you could, you couldn’t reach Julia in time, her strangled scream cut off by the pull of her necklace must have been cutting off her airway before the unruly water ever got a chance.

“Julia!”

It was a long fall, directly into deep water, with jagged cliffs, even so, Julia had to… she had to be… She’d be alright. She just had to be. Frantically, ignoring the growing darkness and your own exhaustion, you ran. You had to get down there, to search for Julia.

You ignored the way your legs and lungs burnt, the way you only managed shallow breaths – you needed to find Julia, to see that she was okay. You don’t know how long it took until you got down to the bottom of the cliffside, but only the bright moon served as any light by now.

Your heart sank further as you stood at the edge of the water. How were you supposed to get over there, it was so far away, it would take you an hour to swim over there when well-rested – more importantly, how was Julia supposed to ever make it back here? With an injured hand to boot.

You ran out anyway, water going up to your ribs, as you desperately called out her name. It was futile, perhaps, but you just couldn’t accept it. If you called and looked, maybe you’d find her, maybe she had managed to get closer. Even though it was an impossible hope, you continued to search.

Each stray touch of seaweed wrapping around your legs made both dread and hope to shoot up in you, only for the same hope to crash into despair once more, that it wasn’t Julia, it wasn’t her. You spent so long out there in the darkness before you finally dragged yourself back to land, and only because the already unruly water had gotten worse, threatening to pull you down, and you knew, if it knocked you down, you wouldn’t be able to get back up, not as you were now.

You sat down on the sand, with legs numb from exhaustion and the cold, and just stared into the water. If you hadn’t used that branch, then Julia would… Julia would still… Exhaustion and grief made both your mind and body feel so incredibly heavy.

Then you heard it. Something else walking out of the water, and the small metallic clang of bells. Your head shot up. “Julia?” you voice couldn’t manage more than hoarse whisper at this point. But out of the water wasn’t Julia, of course, how could it be. It would be impossible to survive falling into such deep water, even if you hadn’t hit any of the sharp edges of the cliff.

That’s why, stone-cold dread turned into lead in your stomach at the sight. From the water emerged a small, soaked figure. It was him, no, it, because no human could have survived this long underwater. It was walking with the same expression as always, eyes finding and locking onto you, and it walked, with the same stumbling ease as always. And around his fingers and hand, Julia’s necklace was entangled, the bells clinging.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t human. Whatever this was, it had dragged Julia down with it.

You had to run, even though the world was spinning from dizziness and exhaustion, you had to run. Even standing up again was a struggle. On numb legs you clumsily ran. Even putting your all into it, you and it was evenly matched in speed now.

It got closer. Each step is accompanied by wet drips and clinging bells.

Drip, drip, cling, cling.

You couldn’t see the ground before you. You had run into the forest, you needed to get to the car or civilization, or anything. The trees kept out most of the moons light.

Drip, drip, cling, cling.

Branches and bushes caught onto hair and clothes. Leaving stinging nicks on your skin. No matter, continue, run, run, run.

Drip, drip, cling, cling.

What way was the car? How had you gotten down here to begin with? Not this way, that’s for sure. Just continue forward, no time to think.

Drip, drip, cling, cling.

You felt a pull, your foot getting caught by a root. Falling to the ground, dirt and stones stuck to you. You needed to untangle yourself.

Drip, drip, cling, cling.

Oh god, you needed to get free and get back up. You couldn’t see the root, so fumbling blindly in the dark, you tried to pull, pull, pull.

Drip, drip, cling, cling.

Cold, clammy hands touched you. Slowly look up from the root, it had crouched down before you. It’s eyes were the only source of light in the darkness of the forest, and you were almost mesmerized. Despite you being the only one out of breath, your jagged breaths were matched by it.

It leaned closer and you realized, the deep breaths – it was sniffing you.

It curled up against your stomach, as if settling to sleep. Was this the goal? It had gotten to you, was this it? Lie together like your first meeting? And then, searing pain shot through the exhaustion. It bit you, teeth tearing through flesh and holding on.

You felt light-headed and nauseous from the pain, or maybe the exhaustion? You couldn’t tell, growing disorientated, unable to focus on anything but the pain, so as the corners of your eyes darkened, you gave in to the numb darkness. As you fell unconscious, you thought you heard bells once more.

Your head hurts… That was the first sensation you noticed when you awoke.

It felt as if it was being split in two, a searing fire burning away any sense of emergence and thought, leaving you in hazy pain. Then again, your entire body felt heavy and warm in a drowsy and exhausting type of misery.

It took a moment to connect the sudden pain with anything, blinking yourself back into consciousness. You had been in cold water, maybe it was the flu? But it felt different, your head felt full but more than that, your body was too. There was a foreign sense of fullness, amid the dull, throbbing aches throughout her body, like something burrowing in between the fiery heat.

It was like a steady flow throughout your body, of something cold amidst the warmth. It felt wrong. That’s when you had half a mind to notice the most soaring pain of all was perhaps related to the weight of a very real thing, a very real presence.

On top of you, he… no, it laid, resting its head on your stomach, where it had bit you. God, it had bitten you, maybe it was an infection, no, that didn’t matter, not now.

Off, off, needed it off you.

Though the world spun around you, as dizziness clouded your mind from the simple act of lifting your arm, you managed to place your hands, your awfully clammy hands, on it, and push.

It didn’t budge, rather, the action seemed to hurt you. Like something attempting to tear your flesh off, oh god, was it still biting you? Was that why the pain felt so searing still? As your attempts to push it grew more frantic, it remained unmoved by it.

“Why, why, why the fuck won’t you- god,” tears prickled at the corner of your eyes, and the sensation seemed to bring you further into reality, the pain growing more and more real, and while you somehow had not been crying before, tears turned into full-out sobs and screams.

“You’re so weak, just, god why, why can’t I- off, off, off! I need you to-“ get off me. It had been so weak before, easily pushed and shoved. Then why, why couldn’t you make it budge now, each attempt hurting you further, at some point, you were convinced you heard the sound of flesh tearing, but you weren’t in your right mind to stop hopelessly trying through brute force.

As the pain became too much, the fight ebbed out of you, replaced by exhausted agony, moving already felt so hard, when you felt icy fire alongside the burning inside, and your skin felt… tight, as if it was housing more than it could, something prodding and poking uncomfortably at your own skin.

Had it not been because you could so clearly see the creature, you’d have frantically checked your clothes, at the feeling of intrusion, even if said intrusion seemed to be everywhere within you, all at the same time. As your fighting died out, replaced by breathless sobs, it lifted its head ever so slightly, its milky eyes finding yours, somehow, they didn’t look quite as empty now. You could have sworn the look in its eyes was joyful.

You broke eye contact because (it’s unbearable), because… Right, biting, was he still biting you? You stared blankly for a moment when you finally looked further down. You blinked. Once, twice, thrice. No, no, no, no. You hadn’t woken up yet. That’s it, this wasn’t real. Oh god, no, no, no. You blinked again, four times, five times, six times.

But the sight before you remained the same.

His lower face seemed as if melted, seeping into your skin. You couldn’t tell where his skin ended and yours began, as his face stretched out awkwardly, like melted wax, only the top retaining a semblance to his earlier appearance, though the skin around his eyes felt awfully loose, as if dragged down by the weight of… You? This?

Its nails dug into your skin, drawing blood, as its arms encircled you, and it nuzzled closer as if this proximity still wasn’t enough; more skin breaking loose and absolving before your eyes, as if watching a melting clay figure, the skin burning as it melted into yours.

Nature really did pick losers.

#yandere #yandere x reader #tw monsterfucking #yandere monster #tw body horror #tw death #not proofread #bad writing #dead dove do not eat #minors dni

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dreamywriter143 · 11 months

Text

My Dearly Detested

Status: Part Two (7 part Mini-Series, 2/7)

Genre: Enemies to Lover troupe, Angst, Rude Neteyam, Comforting Lo’ak, some fluff, Romance, violence.

Warnings: Depictions of blood, Battles and cursing. Rude Neteyam😭. Reader is older then Neteyam by 1year.

Parings: Neteyam X Y/n (Reader)

Summary: Neteyam hates Y/n. He never liked how she always bested him in everything and never once sought the praises he was accustomed to. She had no one, yet she had everyone in the palm of her hand. He despised her, and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. The but happens when the RDA threat comes and Jake tasks her with watching his sons? Neteyam can’t help but grow a newfound hatred.

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: Hope you guys like it! The next one will get better I promise!

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Y/n swifty steps through the entrance of the tent with her finger trailing along the fabric as she brushes past. She glances down at herself brushing away the loose leaves that had stuck to her loincloth. She had been foraging for herbs with Kiri not long ago under Mo’at’s orders.

Mo’at wanted to stock up on herbs and supplies as Jake had planned a raid in two days' time. Judging from the planning it was going to be an important mission, one that would guarantee casualties if not executed properly.

Mo’at needed herbs to prepare ointment if there were any injured warriors if they were not careful. Y/n and Kiri worked tirelessly all morning to obtain the herbs, all while Y/n poured out her frustration to her dear friend.

Y/n had been once again assigned as a spotter, much to her dismay. It was an honor to even be considered again but Y/n was beginning to get angry at the fact that her position didn’t seem to change. Y/n had been working tirelessly over the past few months to gain the admiration of the Olo’eyktan. She hunted for the clan, she showed her skills off during group training and had great patrol sessions with Tarsem. What was she missing?

Y/n wanted to be more active in the raids. She wanted to be a part of the action just like Tarsem, only to come up short. Jake only assigned her as a spotter which led to her to question her own skills during the process. She had been showing great promise and improvement over the past few months.

She’s even able to hold herself against other warriors her age. She just didn’t understand why she was still a spotter. Tarsem would always try to cheer her up, saying that he didn't want to be worried sick over her if she were out in the field with him. That did not help the poor Na’vi’s mood.

She didn't want to be a burden to anyone, after years of training and working hard she should have already proved she was good enough as her own. It was unfortunate which only motivated her to try harder.

Despite her disappointment Y/n thanked the stars she was able to at least get into the raid. Jake made it his mission to keep his sons away, especially Neteyam. The best warrior next to Tarsem. Y/n felt privileged enough she had a role to play, given that it was minor but important.

Even though it wasn’t that big of a deal, it didn’t stop Neteyam from hating her. This only made the target on her back that much bigger as Neteyam openly resented her due to this. Just when Y/n thought things were getting better between them.

At least Y/n’s has learned not to sit back and take it any longer. She earned her title and she earned her respect. If Neteyam couldn’t see that she’d make sure to show him.

Y/n’s eyes darted around the tent noting the Olo’eyktan who had called for her presence wasn't in the tent. She watches how Neteyam and Tarsem stood close together muttering quietly while pointing at paper in their hands. They seemed to be concentrating on what they were discussing as they didn't hear Y/n come in.

Y/n’s ears twitch when she notices Lo’ak leaning against the wooden table filled with papers and the human device which is known as a laptop. The sound of her tail thumping against the floor jolts Lo’ak up. He notices her immediately, his eyes lighting up at her presence. He stood up straighter waving her over. Y/n offers him a small smile walking over to the younger Na’vi who smiles.

“Dad called you as well?” Lo’ak asks gaining the attention of the two other males. Tarsem shoots Y/n a genuine smile with a hint of uneasiness, Neteyam, who stood beside him acted as though he didn't even care for her. But the sneer did not go unnoticed by Y/n.

“Yes, I was busy with Kiri before I was informed. What is it about?” Y/n asks, smiling at Lo’ak and Tarsem who were happy with her presence. She actively avoided Neteyam’s trained gaze set on her form.

“The upcoming raid, what else?” Neteyam grumbles under his breath. Lo’ak stiffens at her brother's harsh tone, rolling his eyes. He didn't know why his brother acted the way he did towards Y/n, who he admired.

“I’m well aware, I’ve been informed of my assignment in the upcoming raid already” Y/n replies back with a stoic expression. Neteyam hisses at the slight jab she sent his way, she was once again chosen as a spotter. Something that always poked Neteyam’s ego. Just as Neteyam opens his mouth to bark back the flaps of the entrance rustle as the Olo’eyktan walks in.

“Good, all of you are here” Jake says nodding to Y/n who stood closer to the entrance. She nods to her leader, smiling at his presence. He makes his way to the center of the tent placing his firearm on the table with a thunk.

“As you all know we have a raid planned in two days.” Jake says, turning to face the four young warriors. Lo’ak’s tail swishes behind him in excitement. He couldn't help but feel like he was going to be finally tasked with something during the mission. Something he had been dreaming about.

“I've gone over the plans and I've made some changes” Y/n feels her heart stop at his words, had Jake reconsidered her role in the raid? Has she been performing poorly in his standards? The last thing she wanted was to be kicked out of the raid, especially after the jab she made at Neteyam earlier.

Y/n looks to Tarsem who seems relaxed, she then catches how Neteyam smirked at her. It wasn't a kind smirk, his eyes gleamed under the lighting in the tent. It was a look of self satisfaction. He probably thought Y/n was going to be kicked out of the raid as well. And he couldn't be happier at the thought.

“Neteyam and Lo’ak will be spotters for the mission. Nothing more and nothing less. You’ll be reporting intel from the sky, you spot boogies and call them in. Understood??” Jake informs sternly, his eyes locking onto his most troublesome child.

Lo’ak grins wide.

“Yes sir, loud and clear!” he says standing up straighter.

Y/n looks at the floor beneath her. The role that had always been assigned to had been reassigned to someone else. And worst of all it was Neteyam. Though the role held a lot of responsibility with little chance of casualty it was still important. And now, she lost it.

Is that why he called her? To let her know she was not needed?

The bitter feeling of failure settles deep with the girl as her ears drop in sadness.

“Thank you sir, we’ll perform our utmost best-” Y/n looks up at the sound of Neteyam’s voice. His eyes were always watching her as a smug smile played along his lips. She felt small, she felt tiny under his gaze that only seemed to egg to her sadness. She felt like that little girl from many years ago, cowering under Neteyam’s powerful stare.

Neteyam smirks proudly before turning to his father.

“-but I must ask, why is Y/n here? You won't be needing three spotters for the raid, right?” Neteyam asks his tone laced with feigned concern for Y/n.

Y/n felt herself turn to her Olo’eyktan, her eyes stinging with unshed tears as her heart clenched in pain. She bit her lip to hold back emotions, she was a warrior. She couldn't cry over a reassignment which could be better for the clan.

Even though she worked herself to the bone. Worked day and night just so her name could be heard and remembered. She wanted to protect her people, protect her family. Losing her only spot in missions only proved she was letting them down. Letting her clan down. But she knew she had to hold her tongue. Every decision Jake made was with the intention to protect the clan. She had no place to argue back.

Jake shoots Neteyam a warning glance, seeing how upset Y/n looked while glancing at Tarem. Tarem keeps a calm expression, having been quite the entire time looking at Y/n with a solemn look. He knew of her hard work, how she barely took care of herself so she could stand tall.

“You're right son, two spotters is enough. I have a different assignment for Y/n '' Jake informs.Y/n’s eyes widen as she stares at her leader in surprise. Lo’ak , who had been beside the now gawking girl, nudged against her playfully. Neteyam stiffens at his father's words, clenching his teeth.

“Y/n, I'm very proud of all that you've done. You are to assist my mate, Neytiri, as air patrol and combat. You may meet with Neytiri afterwards for a debrief” Jake informs. Y/n gasps out loud muttering out thanks in her shocked state. She turns to Tarsem who smiles wide, the worry behind his eyes hidden from view.

“Thank you! Thank you so much sir!” Y/n says happily.

Neteyam glares at Y/n from across the room. If looks could kill, Y/n would be dead by now. His heated stare only intensified as Lo’ak leaned against Y/n whispering congratulations. Neteyam turns to stomp out the tent before glancing back inside. He stares at Y/n who held a proud smile along her lips. Although all Neteyam could feel was anger and burning jealousy of said girl, he also felt that unfamiliar feeling settle in. Deep within his gut.

His mother often came back with scratches and injuries from her position in raids. That was enough to hurt Neteyan watching his mother battered and bruised. When Y/n was a spotter he had nothing to worry about, she'd always come back in the same condition she left in. But now that she was a part of air combat, that left her wide open for injury. And that pained Neteyam’s heart at the thought.

~~~~~~

Y/n walks out of Sully’s tent with a smile. She loved hanging around with Tuk and Neytiri, enjoying the young girls' company as she asked Neytiri for pointers for the raid. Neytiri was proud of how far Y/n had accomplished, she couldn’t help but see herself in the fierce independent girl.

She also stressed her worry for her. It was a dangerous role to play as she didn’t doubt Y/n’s ability. She just felt fear for the little girl, her motherly instincts taking over.

Thankfully Y/n convinced Neytiri she’ll follow her lead and be extra careful. That was enough to settle the uneasiness within her as she explained the basic plan.

Y/n smiles to herself for the great accomplishment. She couldn’t wait to get home and tell Tarsem’s mother about the great news.

She rounds the corner with every intent on walking towards her shared family hut when all of a sudden a harsh tug pulls her behind the closest hut.

The figure harshly pushes Y/n against the wall while she struggles under his hold. She goes to reach for her knife but freezes when she recognizes the dangerous yellow hues that bore into her soul.

Y/n stops struggling letting out a sigh. She narrows her eyes at Neteyam, her lips forming into a deep frown.

“Why do you always do this??” She hisses, keeping her tone low. She didn’t want anyone walking in on them assuming the worst as they were nearly pressed against one another.

“With how easily you submit to me, it's like you want me to pin you against the wall” Neteyam says through clenched teeth. Y/n feels her cheeks heat up before using all her strength to push him back.

Neteyam let’s go, taking a step back to create enough distance. All while standing in from in front of her so she wouldn’t escape,

“What is it now?” Y/n asks, watching how Neteyam crossed his arms. A disappointed sigh escapes him as he locks eyes with her once again.

“Just because you got assigned to something different doesn’t mean you’re better than me” Neteyam growls making Y/n frown. She was aware of their unsaid competition but that wasn’t what she focused on. Instead she let the competitiveness urge her to do better. Be like how her parents were, wise and mighty.

“I never said that. You have your strengths and I have mine.” Y/n pushes herself off the wall, her ears twitching in mild annoyance.

“True, but we all know I am better than you. Always have, always will be.” Neteyam takes a step towards her, his lips ghosting over her ear. Y/n hated how much taller he was even though he was younger. And right now she hated the height difference more than anything, feeling the tickle of his breath against her which sent shivers down her spine.

“Don’t let this get to your head Y/n. Don’t think I don’t see how hard you try for the praise of others- to be acknowledged” Neteyam whispers, his tone filled with nothing but distaste.

Y/n spins her head, her nose brushing against his dangerously close. Dangerously intimate. Typically she would be embarrassed by the sudden closeness. But now, her anger took over her reasoning.

“I don’t work hard to praise Neteyam. Watch your mouth. I do it for my people, for my clan” she hisses, her ears fold back threateningly. She knew how she was acting was inappropriate. He was the son of their Oletekayn.

But Y/n couldn’t let that slide.

“Oh? So all the praise, all these admirers don’t motivate you? Or do you strive to make my life hell?” Neteyam grumbles. He didn't seem to register just how close they were standing to each other. His eyes trailing down her tensed expression all the way down to her lips that tremble slightly.

“You’re full of yourself Neteyam. Make sure that doesn’t affect you during the raid” Y/n hisses before stopping off. She doesn’t catch the way Neteyam’s hand twitched to pull her back. Or the way his eyes followed her until she was out of sight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Lo’ak!” Y/n calls, jumping down from her Ikran. She arrived just in time to catch the two brothers ready to mount their Ikran for the raid. Neteyam actively avoided her, his back facing her as she strides over to the younger boy.

She immediately notices his warrior paint he had on, she smiles wide looking down at the few markings Tarsem’s mother put on her as well.

Lo’ak smiles wide, his eyes shining with excitement and happiness. “Hey Y/n! Are you ready?” He asks tightening his gear. Y/n chuckles, sending a quick glance Neteyam’s way. Clearly he was still sour over the disagreement from a few days ago.

“Sure am. Are you?” Y/n places her hand on his shoulder smiling warmly. Lo’ak was 2 years younger than her, Y/n couldn’t help but feel a strong brotherly tug towards him,

“Yup. I’m so excited!” He replies back not catching how his brother slyly watches from afar,

“Lo’ak-” Y/n catches Neteyam’s stare on them as she looks past Lo’ak.

“-please be careful? Don’t do anything stupid” she says sternly. Lo’ak scoffs in annoyance.

“Ok mom. I won’t” he says mockingly, causing Y/n to laugh. She gently pats his cheek before stepping back. Lo’ak easily mounts his Ikran letting out a cry before swooping down.

Y/n turns to Neteyam who mounts his Ikran as well, still avoiding her gaze. “Be careful!” Y/n calls out. Even though she was also sour over their fight, she did not wish for anything bad to happen to Neteyam. She still cared for the boy.

Neteyam turns to her, his Ikran screeching at whatever she felt through their Tsaheylu. Neteyam stares at her with an unreadable expression before flying off without uttering a word.

~~~~~~~

Y/n let’s out a cry before letting her bow soar through the air with light speed. It penetrates through the glass effectively killing the human inside. She cries out in victory watching the human machine crash below, exploding when it crashes to the ground.

Hearing Neytiri’s calling cord she glances at the Ikran that flies next to hers. Neytiri smiles proudly at the girl who beams in happiness. Neytiri then takes off for any other gun ships that could be inbound.

‘I should check on them’

“Eagle eye? Pathfinder? Where is your location, over” Y/n calls into the com. Hearing nothing back she begins to worry.

Y/n decided to go find the brothers, even though they were technically not her responsibility at the moment she felt the deep feeling of wanting to confirm their safety.

That is until something catches her eyes.

Y/n watches in horror as both Lo’ak’s and Neteyam’s Ikran descend to the ground. To where Na’vi begin scurrying around for weapons and armory. Y/n curses under her breath, turning to call for Neytiri only to see her in hot pursuit of one gun ship. Realizing she had no other choice, Y/n instructs her Ikran to land as well.

The moment Y/n’s feet hit the ground she rushes to where the boys were. It seemed like Neteyam tried to pull Lo’ak back who was being very stubborn at the moment. Y/n closes in on them as she runs up to Tarsem. He has a questioning look that disappears into fear when they land on Y/n.

“Y/N! What are you doing here?!” he asks as warriors shuffle against one another. Y/n looks at Neteyam and Lo’ak fiddling around with a firearm, on3 that Tarsem must have given by accident amongst the chaos.

“Neteyam and Lo’ak! I’ll be right back!” Y/n calls rushing to their side. She was fuming with rage at this point due to the boys disobeying direct orders. Y/n was prepared to drag them both out of there. Even if she had to pull them by their ears to do so.

Neteyam is the first to notice her, his worried look turning to that in disdain.

“What are you doing here?” Neteyam spat, standing in front of Lo’ak. Lo’ak sends Y/n an apologetic look before returning his attention back to the firearm in his hand.

“Saving your ass, that’s what! What the hell are you doing down here?! Is it that hard to follow orders?!” Y/n growls her tail thumping against her widely. Though Y/n is always well aware of her surroundings, she doesn't catch the sound of whirring indicating a gunship nearing them.

Neteyam bares his fangs at her words, his eyes glaring down at her. He hated how she talked down to him.

“I have Everything under control,” Neteyam says through gritted teeth. He steps closer to Y/n their faces mere inches apart. Typically Y/n would have backed down from this close proximity, but every angry cell her body kept her in place.

“You couldn’t prevent Lo’ak from doing something stupid!! You-”

“Fall back!!!” Y/n eyes widen when she turns to see a gunship hot on their tail. She briefly makes eye contact with Jake across the field, just as the machine starts shooting at them.

“Shit, run!!” Lo’ak screams dashing past them. Y/n takes Neteyam’s hand into hers before running after Lo’ak.

“Hurry-” all of a sudden an explosion goes off sending everyone through the air.The impact of the explosion sends Y/n to crash into Neteyam as they tumble along the wreckage of the train.

~~~~

A groan escapes Y/n’s lips as she groggily opens her eyes. She seemed to have lost consciousness for a few seconds after the explosion, the very moment she crashed into Neteyam. She carefully sits up hissing in pain. Her entire body screamed in protest as she felt numbness near her thigh.

Recalling what happened prior to the explosion Y/n glances around her frantically. Her eyes widen when she sees Neteyam laying on the floor motionless. Fearing the worst Y/n desperately crawls to him, her finger shakily reaching to grab his motionless body.

“Neteyam? Neteyam!” She calls loudly, her voice cracking. Her strength seemed to have left her as she struggled to flip him over. Hearing hurried steps coming their way Y/n head shoots up in alarm.

Y/n feels immense relief upon making eye contact with Jake.,

“Neteyam! Y/n!” Jake calls jumping down from the train. He rushes to their side flipping Neteyam over with ease. “D-Dad?”

Y/n feels herself breathe when Neteyam coughs, opening his eyes. After registering Jakes worried face he glances at Y/n. Noting the scratches and blood littered on her beautiful skin. Neteyam feels his stomach churn at the sight.

“What are you doing here boy, what were you thinking!” Jake growls, turning him over. After letting out a sigh he begins to hurl Neteyam, pulling him easily over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry sir” Neteyam whispers out. Y/n looks around her struggling to stand up.

“S-sir, Lo’ak! where-”

“He’s ok Y/n, Get to the base now. That's an order!”

Y/n helps Jake lift Neteyam up. Her eyes trace over the scratches and blood littered over his body. “Y/n, let’s move!” Jake calls, running towards his Ikran. Holding Neteyam’s weight doesn't seem to slow him down.

Y/n takes a steps forward as a cry of pain leaves her lips. She glances down to her leg, her eyes widening in fear. On her thigh, was lodged a thick metal chuck on metal. Probably a piece that was shattered to bits amidst the explosion.

It was deeply buried in her thigh, which bled profusely. A trail of blood running down her leg.

She glances back at Jake's retreating figure letting out a groan in defeat. She failed to protect Neteyam and Lo’ak. Her injuries would have to wait. Her main priority is to her people, to her leader and his sons whom she is responsible for as a warrior.

Y/n calls for her Ikran who lands a few feet in front of her. The beats lets out a worried coo as its eyes trace over her injuries. She carefully mounts her Ikran , biting her lip at the pain that surges through her.

“I’m f-fine” Y/n assures softly petting her Ikran.

“Let’s go home” She whispers as her Ikran as he begins the ascent carefully, being mindful of her open wounds.

____________________________________________

A/N: Thank you all for reading!! It'll get better I promise, please bare with me my lovelies!

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