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sweetnans · 1 day

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I set myself on fire to keep you warm.

Pairing: f. reader/Bakugo Katsuki.

tw: mention of break up, mention of violence but not described because bakugo isn't a bad boy, soft and persistent bakugo. SMUT +18 minors don't interact. (Soft sex)

a/c: the end of this trilogy, I hope you liked it 💕

Part 1

Part 2

After the party, you didn't see him for a while. At least two weeks. A group of villains attacked his quadrant for a week straight unfolding in pairs each day. Even Shoto, your new partner, had to change teams and do a backup job.

The truth was that you were dying to know about him, and that felt wrong.

Friday came quickly, and so your day off. You were parking outside of your house, bringing the grocery bag with you and some little things you found that could work with your new home decoration. You even bought flowers for your new vessel.

Quickly, you turned the tv on, not expecting to see Bakugo in action, defeating a giant villain on the screen. The scenery was already controlled by the pros, Deku, Chargerbolt, and Cellophane were there, working as a team.

You changed the channel looking for a reality show, something that didn't remind you of your ex and everything that occupied your mind since the last time you saw him, like calling him, for example.

Silly girl knows better, right? But, what if he was hurt?

You shook your head and poured a glass of wine in a cup. That glass of wine turned in two, and when you noticed what was happening the bottle was already empty.

You scrolled through your socials, the guys were headline in almost every page, even the group chat of endeavor agency made a special shout out to them, filling your phone with photos of him in high definition.

You: I think I'm going to do something I might regret.

You waited for the response from Mina but nothing happened. You could blame her later for what was about to happen.

His contact was opened on your screen, the green button functioning as a magnet to your fingers. What was the harm in calling him? You could just ask about the fight, professionally purpose only, to gather techniques. After all, you were a little rusty in battle combat.

You were just making excuses not to feel like a shitty person. You needed to get your head clear but right now you were about to cry. Damn, you missed the bastard.

That was the hint you needed to press the button.

It ringed, one, two, three times.

"Hello?" He asked, agitated.

You felt nostalgic. After every big fight, he liked to steam some stamina off. To cool it down, like he used to say.

"If this a fucking prank you'll hear from me, I'll blast your shitty ass to-

"Hey," your voice sounded light.

You could hear how he dropped the weight he was lifting.

"Is that you?" He murmured, not believing. Maybe it was a prank from one of his friends. No, they would never do that to him. They feared him enough.

"Mmhm," you nodded even if he couldn't see you.

Silence flowed in the line. It was awkward, but not in the bad way. It was awkward for Bakugo, at least, because he never expected to be you when to phone rang. He knew that he had to be the one trying, but right now, after the party, after the fight, he was just taking his time to think about his next step.

"Are you drunk?" He asked straightforwardly.

"What? No!" You tried to defend yourself, but the uncommon pitch in your tone gave you away.

"You sound like it." You could feel his smug smile appearing on his face.

"I'm not gonna lie. I had this bottle of wine, and it just poofed itself out of existence, " you sighed. You were tipsy, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

He barked a laugh. A real one. The kind of laugh that made you feel it inside your bones. The kind of laugh that you missed for an entire year.

"It seems to me that you just chugged the bottle all by yourself." The tone in his voice was playful and his mind started to get those memories where you used to call him everytime you went out with your friends, finding a way to leave your friends alone and sneak to the bathroom or some place quiet just to hear his voice and tell him to pick you up earlier.

"How do you know that I'm by myself?"

The question made him shake his head.

"If you were with Mina or with somebody else, you wouldn't have called." He was probably right, you thought to yourself, Mina would've melted your phone down with acid before you even thought of calling your ex.

He liked the way that conversation flowed. With you, the talking about everything, the expressing, the feeling, everything was so easy for him. He felt nostalgic and eager to win you back. He needed this in his life, and he needed you.

"For the record, I warned Mina that I was going to do something stupid"

"Do you think this is stupid?" He pried for your answer. The moments you were taking to answer something so simple got him on the edge of the gym bench. "No bullshit, okay? Because I don't think this is stupid at all"

You closed your eyes for an instant, trying to think aside from the alcohol boost. You needed to get your mind clear because you had this idea in your mind, but once the idea left your mind, it was over for you and for him. In a good way.

"Why don't you pick up your stuff and come home already?"

...

To say that it took him ten minutes to arrive at your house is just an exaggeration. He made it in seven when most people took at least twenty. You were waiting for him in the front porch, the same porch that he paced over and over the first time he saw you in a year. You were standing there, with your arms crossed in front of your chest because the night was cold, but, you wanted to be there to see him, to wait for him, and to feel the excitement that was seeing him after a long day or in this case, week.

He saw your figure from his car. The tinted glass did him a favor. He was sweating. He couldn't stop rubbing his hands in his pants to ease the feeling of wetness and couldn't stop looking at you while doing it. Bakugo realized that he was taking much time regulating himself so he turned off the car and breathed three times to try to calm his heartbeat. It didn't work. He never had been that pented up about something, not an interview, not even a fight, but now his heart was about to explode.

You waved your hand at the sight of him. He didn't reciprocated but instead, he stomped to your front yard, opening the small gate that led to your garden. He climbed one step and the other so his face would be at the same level from your face.

"Hi," you said again, smiling fondly. God, you've missed him.

"Hey princess," he used the same petname that he has called you since he met you.

"Do you want to come in? Or should I go for myself so you can stay and find my spare key and use it? " You asked jokingly. He rolled his eyes but smiled a bit. "I swear that it's in a better spot, I hid it so well this time, you'll never going to find it"

"I bet you bought those fake ass rocks online and put it underneath it"

He knew you like the palm of his hand. You looked shocked, but he was just smug about it. Bakugo found it cute how you could be so naive with your antics and how he could easily read you even in the most idiotic things.

"Fuck, it's always so hard with you. Not my fault that you have such a big brain. " You flicked his forehead, and he was quickly to take your hand in his.

"Not my fault you don't even try"

That was sort of a deja vù. You used to fight on and on when you were in UA. Aizawa sensei loved putting you and him in spare combat that mostly ended up in the both of you yelling at each other. That line was one that you two used the most when he got you pinned down to the floor mat.

You laced your fingers with his fingers and led him inside your house. The TV was on, replaying one of your favorite episodes from your comfort series. He could recite the complete episode without missing a word because he was there every time you put it on his tv.

"You are watching this crap again?" He said mockingly.

"It's a classic, and I needed to do all the things I usually do when I have a bad idea in mind in order to keep it out, but right now, the bad idea is standing right in front of me" you stuck your tongue out and he pinched your nose a little giving you a peak of his soft side.

The vibe was thrilling. It felt like static vibrating his and your heart. You could feel his presence in your skin, aching for his touch, and he could feel your delicacy and love, always wearing your heart upon your sleeve.

"I'm going to make you some food so you can worn the booze off," he walked like he owned the place and moved around your kitchen gracefully, knowing exactly where you placed all the pots and ingredients.

The mere fact that he was there, like old times, made you feel butterflies in your stomach. The domestic treat of him taking care of you never got old in your senses. You had your moment, running away after the argument and the bad mental time that you were having because of lack of reasoning, then you completely ghosted him, trying to put in the past six years like he was nothing. And there he was, acting like nothing ever happened.

"These are very rare. Where did you get them?" He asked, lifting one of the ingredients and taking you out of your dissociation.

"Mhm, I don't remember," you told him, sparing a glance to the object. You walked towards him until you were by his side.

"What?" He said, contemplating your gaze.

You softened your face, and tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. Alcohol made you emotional.

"I'm so sorry," you told him.

His body was stiff, like a rock, but his emotions were blossoming in his face. He turned off the stove and passed his right arm behind your neck, pulling you to his broad chest. He took the chance that you weren't seeing him to give himaself out, exposing every feeling and every thought he had been running in his mind for the past year.

"I'm sorry too, baby," he murmured in your head. "I was supposed to be by your side, and I failed, I was a bad excuse of a boyfriend"

"I should've never abandoned you," you cried.

"I wasn't the one you deserved," he explained. "Right now, I know I am, fuck, I would even set myself on fire to keep you warm, to keep you by my side, to make you happy"

Your tears stained his shirt, leaving marks all over his pecs. He placed gentle kisses in your hair, soothing every regret and remorse out of your system.

You pulled yourself out of his embrace to look at him in the eyes.

"I never stopped loving you," you whispered.

He looked at you like you were his dreams come true. His eyes were glossy, wandering every inch of your face, looking for maybe a mistake, for you backing out of what you just said, but he didn't find a trace of guilt. You were genuine.

He couldn't keep it anymore.

His lips graced yours carefully, waiting for you to flinch or for a reaction so he could stop, but once again, you were eager too, you wanted him in every possible way.

Your lips smashed together, tearing apart all your armors. His lips graced yours, and his tongue made his way to your lips, tracing patterns until you opened for free access. He was desperate to taste you. You grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulled him closely, and then moved your hand to his neck, tugging the baby hairs of the nape of his neck.

"I like your new hairstyle" you mentioned in between sloppy kisses.

"Yeah?" He asked lost in you.

"It's different, shorter in the sides, you look pretty hot," you giggled when his smug smile crashed in your lips. "Don't let that compliment get over your head please"

"Oh, it's already there," he said, grabbing your thighs with one hand and tapping your lower back for you to jump.

You jumped, and he catched you without any effort, putting you on the kitchen table. Even with that boost of inches, you were just the same height as him, looking him straight in the eyes. His mouth was swollen and red, and your lipstick smuged in his lips. Before you could wipe it off, his lips found your neck, and he started kissing and nipping.

"Oh my, Katsuki," you moaned, he grunted at the sense that you were not able to control yourself anymore.

"Damn baby, I don't how I lived without you like this"

You locked your legs on his lower back, leaving him against your core, making you feel the heartbeat of your two members pulsing against each other.

His dick was already twitching in his pants and you were wet just for a few kisses. The time apart made its job. You weren't sure if you could take much time without feeling him completely inside of you.

"Baby" you panted. "I need you, like right now"

He always liked you when you mouthed your desires. It wasn't so common of you, so when it happened, it pented him up even more.

Beneath all the anger and sadness that he felt because of you leaving him, it was this Katsuki, the one who was like a kid with you, the one that could forgive you for everything you do knowing that you wouldn't do anything to hurt him. If you were right here with him, that was enough for him to put all his trust with you again.

You wouldn't leave him either.

Katsuki could feel you writhing against his body. After your plead, he detached his lips out of your neck and moved his hands to undone his pants first, taking all the breath of your lungs because the sight of his cock.

"Shit," you murmured to yourself, but his side smile made you notice that he heard that too.

Without any words, he grabbed your waist to pull you more to the edge of the kitchen table, positioning you to make you two more comfortable. After that, he decided that it was better for the two of you to take you on the kitchen stool, so he grabbed your ass and, without even thinking of it, nor even warning you, he took you and left you sitting in front of him.

"Are you sure?" His voice low ringed in your ears. You didn't want anyone but him. You nodded, allowing him to take off your pajamas shorts. "Open your legs," he demanded, and you obeyed.

In mere seconds, you were exposed to him. Glistening eyes wandered your body like it was sculptured by gods.

God damned him if he loses you again.

Putting his forehead against yours, he aligned himself in your entrance. He showered your nose with little pecks, trying to dissipate the growing but pleasant pain inside you.

"Fuck" you moaned against his lips and he swallowed all your pants like it was an elixir.

"You feel so good, baby," he muttered, buckling his hips into you.

He made it slow at first, but then, you could feel his balls slapping, putting the perfect amount of friction that you needed to be close to cloud nine. You were aching for him, following his pace to make it more delectable. He bit your shoulder to release some stamina and last a little longer, but he couldn't fool no one. His balls were tightened, trying to suppress the instinct to free his load inside you.

"I wont last long" he assured. "It's been a year"

His faint breath against your shoulder made you shiver.

"What? You didn't-"

"No. I tried, " He answered before you could even ask.

"Did you?"

You were curious. You couldn't blame yourself for wanting to know what did Katsuki in your year outside.

"I mean, I tried to date but never made it to the date part. Deku tried to set me up once, but I never showed"

That was kinda sad for the other person, waiting for him and getting nothing but an empty seat.

"I went out a few times, but I always ended up talking about you" you added in between pumps. "Even from a distance you cockblocked me"

He grunted low, almost devilish, like it was everything he ever wanted.

"That's what I needed to hear, that this little pussy is just f'me" he said in the shell of your ear giving you full of his length, filling you nicely and touching with the head of his dick your g-spot repeatedly.

"Shit, fuck, Katsuki-" you were out of breath. He was riding you nice and slowly. "Keep going, keep going, shit"

"Fucking, fuck god"

His seeds sprouted inside yourself, painting your walls with white stripes. Your core squeezing his cock in a way that got him almost gripping to the kitchen table.

You couldn't keep your thoughts in your mind while your orgasm crashed with his together in an instant. He grabbed you by the hair, pulling it back to leave you exposed to him. Panting against your neck, he closed the distance, giving you little kisses in your throat while caressing your thighs with his other hand, your legs trembling on each side of his body.

"A year is too much," you said, touching the locks oh his hair. He let go of your hair just to look at your eyes. You looked exactly how you looked when he fucked your brains out.

"From now on, you're not leaving my side if you want to go and find yourself, we'll find you together"

He was dead serious, but the look on his face made you extremely happy so you couldn't hide your smile.

"I don't need to find me anymore, I know exactly who I am and what I want," you said, trying to give him all sense of security back. He never doubted your words.

That night was his dream came true. You, half naked, against his chest in his big ass bed that he once thought it was too big for him alone, your legs intertwined with his, soft pants leaving your lips. You wouldn't go anywhere.

He knew that, eventually, you would be like this with him. He knew that he needed to be better for him and for you first. He knew that time would patch everything up and make you come back. He knew that this time, he would do everything in his hands to make you happy.

What he didn't know is that you were counting the days to make your way back to him.

He was absorbed in his thoughts while you sleep soundly in his arms. Thinking about the future, to be better, thinking about the past, to not making the same mistakes. He couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life with you, and also, he couldn't wait to rub the news to Deku and to make him feel like a loser for setting him up with a poor girl who never stood a single chance.

#bakugo headcanons #bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #mha x reader #my hero academia #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #my hero academy fanfiction #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #mha #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha x reader #bnha #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki

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st-el-la-luna · 3 days

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Call of the Valley {Call of Duty x Reader/Stardew Valley AU｝

Prologue: Grey

➔ gn!reader ("you"/"your" pronouns used), thoughts of violence, mentions of death

no character introductions yet, just some world building. unedited

Series masterlist!

997 words

Grey walls. Grey ceilings. Grey floors. Grey desks.

Everywhere you look is grey. From the meticulously lined cubicles to the desks lacking any personalization. From the uncomfortable chairs to the equally as uncomfortably sticky floors. From the company provided coffee mug to the company provided calendar. From your coworker's outfit (you swear that sweater used to be blue) to the contents of your lunch.

It’s all grey.

You sigh as you push around the mushy overcooked rice on your desk before you. In the silence of the office, you might as well have fired a gun, the sound a stark contrast to the usual deadness. The only sounds typical of this purgatory you call work are the tap-tap-tapping of keys and the clicking of mouses. Plus, the occasional beep of the microwave, or slam of the fridge door (you swear that fridge has been here longer than any employee. The way the lightbulb buzzes when you open the door sounds like a cry for help. A plea for you to end its decades-long misery. You, of course, don’t. If you must suffer, then so too must the fridge).

Someone clears their throat from the entry of your cubicle. You turn away from your sad little lunch to find your sad little supervisor. Who, surprise, surprise, is dressed in, you guessed it, even more grey.

“Something the matter?” she asks you with a smile that makes you want to use your cheap plastic fork to carve out her eyes. “I could have sworn I heard something.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you try for a smile in return, not sure why you bother considering you hate her guts as much as she hates yours. “I’m just... tired.”

“Well, tired or not, you know better than to bring that kind of attitude to the workplace. Big smiles, remember? The atmosphere matters you know!”

“Right, yeah,” you nod, barely able to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “Big smiles.”

“Come on, let’s see it,” your supervisor says, tapping the sign on your cubicle wall *Smile, you’re with Joja!* You put on a smile which she returns with a patronizing scrunch of her nose, talking to you like one would an unruly child. “There, that wasn’t that hard now, was it?”

It wouldn’t be too hard to use my stapler to knock your teeth in, you bitch. It’d only take a couple of hits... All the red would really brighten this place up... Ever heard of colour theory?

“Yeah,” you smile. “Not that hard.”

Your computer beeps. Your lunch break is over. You haven’t touched your food.

Your supervisor's smile widens. The brown-nosing corporate shill that she is. “Well, you’d better get back to it... And try to do better this afternoon. Your numbers have been trailing all morning. I’d hate to have to write you up.”

“Yeah,” you say as you drop your food into the rubbish. “I’m sure.”

Your computer goes off again, demanding your attention. Your supervisor stands there for a moment longer than she needs to, as if checking that you’re really going to work, then hums, pleased, and walks away.

It’s going to be a long day...

But hey, look on the bright side, you won’t be doing this forever.

One day you’ll die.

Die... The thought echoes in your head for a bit. Die... Die...

Your gaze falls to the drawer of your desk where the letter from your late great-uncle sits, waiting to be opened. You didn’t know the guy much, the family didn’t really talk about him, and he never came to any gatherings. But he had no kids and, well... No one really. He’d been thrilled when you had expressed interest in enlisting in your early teens. He taught you all the tricks of the trade and then some.

He was less thrilled when you told him you’d changed your mind.

It really wasn’t that shocking news. He’d kept talking on and on about pulling some strings, using his connections, but it’s just... not what you wanted anymore. You weren’t a kid anymore and well, you had to be realistic.

Besides, they didn’t want you to enlist. You’d tried and well... While you passed the physical tests fine and were more than smart enough to work in intelligence or as a bomb tech, your psychological tests were... Less than stellar. Which was difficult to explain to a man who, despite having watched countless of his friends die and witness atrocities you could never fathom, thought that mental illness was a sham created by the youth to get out of doing real work.

It’s not like you’d caused his heart attack. He was already sick. And all the smoking and drinking from his days on active duty surely didn’t help. He got himself too worked up over something small, and well... His heart just couldn’t take any more of it.

Speaking of being unable to take anymore... you can hear your supervisor coming back around. You look between your monitor and the desk drawer. Monitor. Drawer. Monitor. Drawer. Monitor. Drawer. Monitor...

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to write you up. Just know this isn’t-”

“I quit.”

And, just like that, you grab your few personal belongings and shove past her to the door, manilla envelope clutched in your hand.

She sputters something behind you, makes a move to grab your wrist. You dodge.

“You can’t be serious,” she says. “You... You can’t quit now! It’s the busiest time of the year!”

“I just did... Oh, and Stacy?”

“Yes?” she asks, almost hopeful.

“You’re a right bitch. Just wanted to let you know.”

Her entire face goes red as her cheeks puff out. “You... I... Wh...”

You leave her there to her aneurysm, walking into the elevator and letting the doors close behind you.

You lean your head back against the grey wall, resting your weight against the railing. You glance at the envelope in your hand.

God... Please don’t let this be a mistake.

please comment and reblog to support my writing! asks are always open! Literally nothing inspires me to write more!

who should we meet first and how?

taglist: @tooloudarts @cadotoast

Masterlist!

#call of duty #cod mwii #cod #call of the valley au #x reader #stardew valley #au #stardew au #cod x reader #task force 141

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queenshelby · 4 hours

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AMERICAN GIRL (PART THREE)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace's Stepdaughter!Reader

Warning: Grace is a bully, infidelity, taboo

The following day, Tommy had, indeed , arranged for a tutor to come to the mansion and work with Emma and, much to the dislike of Grace, he had offered you a position in one of his many legitimate establishments where, unbeknownst to you, he could keep an eye on you.

Usurpingly, he did not trust you yet, seeing how Grace had betrayed your father by sleeping with him. As such he believed that you were nothing but a wildcard, a force that could not be calculated, and therefore potentially presented a threat to him and his livelihood.

And yet, despite himself, Tommy found himself intrigued by you nonetheless. There was an allure about you that could not be ignored and, moreover, there was a quiet strength in your eyes, a fiery spirit that he found incredibly attractive.

The work that you had been assigned to do under supervision was simple enough - organizing and cataloguing items in one of his stores down in Birmingham - but the time you spent there was never mundane.

One of the women who worked there with you for the time being was no other than Ada Shelby herself, Tommy's sister who was clearly there to spy on you until you could be trusted. Yet, despite the hidden animosity between you two, you quickly became friends.

Ada was a woman of few words but much wit, a firecracker hiding beneath a quiet, steely demeanor. Her dark eyes held a thousand stories, most of which she would never openly share with anyone and you respected her for that.

Ada had a child of her own, but no man by her side to help her raise her young son Karl. Her husband Freddy had passed on several years ago and a tragic loss like this was something you both shared in your lives.

Just like she looked after her son, you were looking after your sister and , therefore the two of you found a strong bond between yourselves.

Unlike Ada, you were not shy about sharing stories from your life with her, although they weren't many and, in turn, she spoke about her brother Tommy, about whom you happened to have many questions, none of which she refused to answer.

You wanted to know what kind of man he was and when Ada told you that he did bad things to a good end, you couldn't help but feel intrigued by his many motives. It was during those long hours at work that Ada shared the story of Thomas Shelby and his family, painting a vivid picture of his past that you couldn't help but find utterly captivating.

You learned that Tommy had been in France, and, in spite of his achievements, he threw his medals in the Cut. He was a tunneller during the Great War and, when he came back home, he had seen too much to be able to return to the man he was before.

The war had changed him fundamentally, and this did not surprise you. It had changed your father too, and you remembered, as a little girl, witnessing the way the man you loved dearly had returned from the trenches of Europe battered and emotionally destroyed.

Ada told you how her brother had started Shelby Company Ltd. with his brothers, how they had built it together and turned it into a formidable force that controlled large portions of the city's trade without giving away the family secrets. Tommy was at the helm of all this, and you could understand why Ada once said that she saw both heaven and hell in his eyes.

He was capable of immense cruelty and merciless violence, but the kind heart he reserved for those closest to him remained hidden behind the tough and unyielding exterior.

You worked at the shop three days a week and, at least once every day, Tommy would come by to check on you before, occasionally, visiting a woman by the name of Lizzie Stark at her nearby lodging.

You followed them once and found out that Lizzie Stark was a prostitute who worked for Tommy. She was, as far as you could gather, rather smitten by him. It was obvious to you that her and Tommy regularly engaged in intimate relations with each other but, even so, there was something distant in the way he looked at her, as though he was always preoccupied by thoughts far beyond his current reach.

Lizzie didn't seem to notice this while, yet she considered you as her biggest thread and, in spite of your better judgment, you found the thought amusing more than anything else. After all, it should have been Grace who she was jealous of, not you but then again, perhaps she knew as well as you did that Tommy didn't love either of them. As he had told you himself, he didn't have the capacity for love, or so it seemed.

The first time you saw Tommy with Lizzie however, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of something akin to disappointment. But you weren't disappointed about the fact that he was unfaithful to Grace, but rather , you were disappointed in the way your own heart reacted when you saw them together.

Eventually, four weeks had passed since you started working at the shop, and you've had ample opportunity to observe Tommy's interactions with Lizzie and others. She wasn't the only one he had been seeing and, for some reason, even despite his misgivings, that strange fascination you felt towards him kept growing, albeit slowly.

You couldn't put your finger on what it was that made him so magnetic. His brooding nature and hardened exterior were part of it, but there was more to it than that.

He was a man of many contradictions, and that intrigued you.

That same night, just like many others, you passed him inside the corridors of the large house you were now living in, giving him a knowing glance as if to say 'I know what you did today' without uttering a single word. And he always returned the look with an exasperating half-smile that both maddened and thrilled you. He knew that you knew about his infidelity and, yet he did not seem to care.

You didn't hate Thomas Shelby or any of the members of his family, but you despised Grace with every fiber of your being.

The day your father died, your whole world had crumbled before your very eyes, leaving you and Emma at the mercy of a woman who couldn't bear the sight of you. She made no secret of this hatred and had been eagerly waiting for your father's fortune to be handed down to her hands.

As such, you really wanted to tell her about her partner's unfaithfulness. You wanted to rub it in and let her know that he was doing to her what she had done to your father all long. But yet, something stopped you.

Some unspoken code of honor, perhaps, or maybe just the small sliver of compassion that still lingered within your wounded heart. You pitied Grace and feared her in equal measure, and you couldn't bring yourself to interfere and risk your own wellbeing and the wellbeing of your little sister Emma who, only in the past week, had started sleeping in her own room.

Besides, Thomas Shelby was not your concern. He was a grown man who made his own choices, and it was not your place to pass judgment on him. But somehow, you found yourself doing it anyway.

Occasionally, Tommy kept you company when neither of you could sleep and it were those nightly interactions that slowly, almost unknowingly, began to brew a forbidden chemistry between you and him.

Leaning against the banisters, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief as he puffed on his cigarette, you couldn't help but feel your heart flutter when he asked you about your day.

His gaze followed your every action, lingering on the gentle curve of your waist or the crook of your neck as you spoke. It was that same raw intensity that made your skin tingle and your breath hitch - a silent conversation of want and need.

You would meet by chance most nights, either in the library or outside, by the stables, after Grace had gone to bed and whilst your interactions were innocent enough, your conversations were deep and meaningful. You found Tommy to be intelligent and well-educated, with a passion for literature and fine art, topics that you would discuss at length, fuelled by the desire to learn more about him - and yourself.

Occasionally, you would catch him outside the lavatory in the staff quarters, listening intently as you sang while having a bath or shower. This was something that had always irritated Grace, hearing you sing, but Tommy seemed to enjoy it - or, at least, he never let on if he didn't.

One late night, as you were making use of the large piano near the library, Tommy entered the room. You hadn't heard him come in, but you felt his gaze on you, watching intently as your fingers danced across the keys.

You paused for a moment, turning to face him before continuing your musical journey with another melody.

"You have a quite a talent for music," Tommy commented, his gaze cast downward to the floor.

Tommy leaned against one of the tall, mahogany shelves that lined the room. The soft amber glow from the fireplace illuminated one side of his face, granting him a certain warmth in his usually stoic features.

"I learned from my mother," you stated simply, continuing to play. Your gaze remained focused on the falling notes you were creating on the piano, not daring to turn your head and meet his gaze.

But, oh, how you wanted to! His presence made you feel all kinds of things, some you'd never experienced before, like unsettling excitement and an irrepressible craving for that forbidden fruit.

"I sometimes come to the staffing quarters just to hear you sing in the shower," he murmured, his eyes locked on yours as he confessed.

You felt your cheeks heat up, your pulse quickened as you continued to playing the piano, the melody now more dramatic. You couldn't believe what you were hearing; he must have been joking, being so direct but if this was the game he wanted to play, then you would oblige.

"I have noticed, and so have the maids. You should be more cautious," you teased, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as the corners of your eyes crinkled with amusement.

Tommy pushed off the shelf, moving closer to you, the space between you shortening rapidly. He leaned on the piano now , effectively entrapping you between him and the instrument. You could feel the warmth emanating from his body, and it made your heart race.

"Perhaps I wanted you to notice," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze bore into yours, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

"And perhaps I wanted you to listen," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The tension in the room grew thicker, filling the air with a palpable energy that neither of you seemed capable of breaking. The only sound in the room was the gentle strumming of the piano keys beneath your fingertips.

Tommy leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel his chest rise and fall with each shallow breath he took, his eyes never leaving yours as he leaned over you and turned the page on the book in front of you. You were acutely aware of the proximity between you, the way his body seemed to align perfectly with yours as if you were two halves of a whole. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a spark that threatened to consume you whole.

"Can you play this?" Thomas asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he pointed to the new sheet music. His proximity still had your heart pounding, the wild beat echoing in your ears.

"Yes, of course I can. I can play anything," you winked playfully before turning your attention back to the music sheet, your fingers dancing gracefully over the keys. You felt Tommy's gaze on you as you played, his presence making your heart race.

You continued to play, the melody filling the library with its enchanting sound. You could feel the weight of Tommy's gaze on you, and it sparked a fire within you that you couldn't ignore. Your fingers moved faster over the keys, your body swaying gently to the rhythm of the music.

Tommy watched you in awe, your talent and beauty captivating him completely until, suddenly, the door swung open .

Grace swept into the room, her eyes narrowing at the sight of Tommy standing so close to you, his hands hovering near yours.

"What is going on here?" she demanded, her voice tight with anger as Tommy stepped away from you.

"I am listening to Y/N play the piano," Tommy replied smoothly, his eyes never leaving yours for a moment.

Grace's gaze flicked from you to Tommy and back again, her jaw tightening as she clearly struggled to maintain her composure. "I can see that, but I wonder why? Why are you listen to her play the piano at this hour?" she pressed, her voice dripping with suspicion.

Tom's eyes remained locked onto yours, a silent message passing between you, a promise of something unspoken that only the two of you could understand.

"Because she plays beautifully, Grace. And, as usual, I can't fucking sleep, eh" Tommy replied, his nonchalant tone grating on Grace's nerves. She stared daggers at him, her eyes narrowed to slits.

"Well, wrap it up, because I cannot sleep either because of it," Grace said, her voice tight with anger, causing Tommy to look at her with a mix of irritation and mild amusement before standing up.

"I will see you tomorrow, Y/N. Have a good night," he told you, ignoring Grace's outburst and leaving you in a state of confusion and frustration.

You watched him leave, his presence leaving an ache in your core that took you by surprise while Grace told you to be quite and to go to bed. You didn't object, you knew better.

Tags:

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #tommy shelby #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby #thomas shelby smut #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction

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alice-after-dark · 2 days

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Another RadioStatic AU Because I Can't Be Stopped

(I need to hurry the fuck up and actually turn one of these into a fucking fic...)

So this may have been inspired by the song "Alastor's Game" by the Living Tombstone and a horror movie called "Late Night with the Devil." Definitely recommend giving it a watch. It's a fun ride. Spoilers for the movie will be under the cut.

TW for murder, violence, and other canon-typical triggers.

Very brief rundown of the movie: a late night TV host in 1977 makes a deal with the devil to gain success and fame. Shit goes sideways when it's time to pay up.

RadioStatic Time!

Imagine Vox, still human and still Vincent, is a struggling late night TV host. He's got the cards stacked against him in every way possible. He doesn't come from a wealthy or celebrity background, he's given the worst program slot, he's got the bare minimum crew, and zero budget for guests or any other extras. And when he tries to argue for more, he keeps getting reminded that he's "fucking lucky" that he even has this chance at all. And still somehow he is managing mediocre results with next to nothing. Imagine what he could do with a proper budget and team, he tells them. No one listens. And then, one day, he's told that if he can't double his ratings by the end of the month, his show will be canceled.

Deep in depression, Vincent (either accidentally or on purpose) summons the Radio Demon (Alastor does not give him his actual name right away), who promises the young TV host 10 years of success in exchange for Vincent doing any favor that Alastor requests of him for the span of those 10 years (with the caveat that the favors are limited to once per day and must not interfere with Vincent's success). Alastor, in all his ulterior-motive glory, is using this deal to get himself access to the Living World and...finish some business (the use of his powers in the Living World are exclusively limited to fulfilling his end of the deal). Vincent, blinded by his own desperation, agrees, never once imagining those favors of Alastor's would involve murder. But if he refuses even a single favor, Alastor gets his soul. So he does what he's told.

At first the favors start small, with Alastor easing Vincent into taking commands from him, getting him used to fulfilling Alastor's requests. An authentic 1930s Philco Cathedral Radio here, an Ella Fitzgerald record there, nothing too big, nothing too fancy. Yet. Then, with Vincent's fame on the rise, he is asked to be a guest host for a show in New Orleans (which is certainly interesting because the show in question has never had a guest host before so Vincent suspects this is Alastor's doing somehow). And suddenly Alastor ups the ante. He needs Vincent to find someone, you see. A local hunter. Kind of a strange request, but okay. He's not all that hard to find either. Under the guise of doing some research on the local area to better understand his audience, Vincent finds an old article from 1933 about a hunter who shot a popular radio host in the bayou after mistaking him for a deer. The death was ruled an accident and the hunter was never charged with a crime. Some further digging reveals that he still lives in the bayou outside the city. Now comes Alastor's next favor: kill him.

Vincent is horrified. He tries to argue that this breaks their deal of interfering with his success, but Alastor insists that as long as Vincent follows his instructions to the letter, he will be just fine...unless he feels like handing over his soul? So Vincent does as he's told. One late night, with Alastor whispering in his ear, he stalks the man, knocks him out, and brings him to the basement of this old rotting house in the bayou (it looks as though it's been abandoned for at least a decade). And, after some nudging from the Radio Demon, Alastor takes it from there. After all, what's a little possession between friends?

Over the next 10 years, Vincent's fame grows and so does his relationship with Alastor. He begins enjoying the demon's presence and quirks and even their back and forth as to the superior form of media. He is beyond stunned when he discovers that Alastor is the very same radio host that he idolized growing up (and the very same radio host who was killed by the hunter). He's even more stunned when he finds he doesn't mind the torture and murder as much as he thought he would, even eventually asking to be a conscious participant. He's watched the Radio Demon so many times before plus he's always been a fast learner and Alastor guides him effortlessly and his powers make cleaning up the mess easy (though he still finds the void in which they dispose of the bodies eerie and unsettling; he swears there's something in there watching him whenever they travel through and Alastor has made it abundantly clear that under no circumstances is Vincent to let go of him while they do so).

When their 10 years comes to a close, there's an unspoken disappointment that hangs in the air. He doesn't understand the rules of Hell, but apparently Alastor's frequent trips to the Living World are gaining some suspicion and he can't risk extending their deal, so this is goodbye. Vincent realizes with reluctance that he's going to miss the Radio Demon. He wonders if Alastor will miss him too. He doesn't ask. And on the nights when he misses Alastor the most...well, the Radio Demon is nothing if not an exceptional teacher (even without the assistance of the creepy void magic).

It's hardly a year later when Vincent dies, shot in the head on live television by a crazed fan of the actress Vincent has recently begun dating (for the fucking publicity, no less).

---

Alastor knows the second Vincent arrives in Hell. Sooner than he expected, but he is delighted to be reunited with his friend/pet/protege nonetheless. He finds it rather hilarious that his head has taken on the form of that ridiculous picture box he was so enamored with. What a delicious form of irony! Hell truly never fails to amuse hi-

"If you're gonna fucking make fun of me, at least introduce yourself, asshole!"

Pardon?

Well...he was certainly right about Hell having a particular brand of irony.

But no, his noisy picture box does not remember him. He remembers all their deeds and the favors (and he continued killing after they parted, how splendid!), but Alastor's presence in them has been scrubbed clean, replaced and painted over by others. It doesn't make him sad of course! Perish the thought! Why would something so trivial make him feel something as mundane as sadness?! No, no, it's simply...an inconvenience. But not one he can't handle. He'll just have to start from scratch. After all, his memories are just fine, so he already has the advantage and it takes little convincing to get the newly fallen Sinner to accompany him as he continues about his day (he has some hunting that just can't wait).

New beginnings and all that jazz.

---

(My personal fav look for human!Vox if anyone cares)

#late night with the radio demon au #this got out of control real fast #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin alastor #radiostatic #hazbin hotel vox #vox hazbin hotel #human vox #alastor the radio demon #vox the tv demon

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animeyanderelover · 2 days

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Hello🎀Can I request Tobirama,Madara,Itachi,Shisui,Sasuke,Pein,kakashi and Obito with a darling that tries to escape often?Thank you 🧸

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, clinginess, paranoia, gaslighting, controlling behavior, mind break, violence, punishment, isolation, abduction, death

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan

Darling tries to escape often

Madara Uchiha

🌑Whilst Madara could easily put a stop to those futile and silly antics of yours, he decides to entertain them instead. Much to the dismay of the elder of his clan who can only view your impudent behavior with discomposure as the spouse of Madara Uchiha should know to behave better. If other clans would find out how little respect you show your own husband, they would surely laugh at the lack of discipline Madara gives you yet he is aware that only a very brave or stupid soul would dare to say such words within his earshot. When the eldest of the Uchiha clan confront him about his lax behavior and question him desperately why he encourages those outrageous shenanigans of yours, he reveals laconically that you'll never be able to run away, no matter how hard you may try. He could easily crush your silly attempts to escape him but that would be so awfully boring. Isn't it much more entertaining to let you run around to entertain your little hope of freedom only to stop you within the last second. His confidence to never prevent your attempts is ultimately just a flex of the power he holds. He assures the elder though that if you were to ever step out of line, he will see it through to correct your attitude.

Tobirama Senju

🌊Tobirama finds himself quickly reaching the end of his patience due to your troublesome defiance. Yes, he understands your frustration and he knows that the abduction isn't something pleasant yet he expected more from you. How long do you intend to keep this childish attitude up? Your behavior is unfitting for someone he plans to marry. The frustration grows whenever he receives a new report from the Anbu that they had to stop you from escaping once again, visibly dragging his mood down for the rest of the day. If you refuse to behave, he will treat you accordingly as more and more restrictions are placed on you until you are forbidden to leave the building he keeps you in. You ridicule and embarrass him with your exhausting antics to the point where he doesn't want to introduce you to his own clan. You don't listen nor do you want to settle for any compromises. One day he eventually just snaps when he receives another report of the Anbu with the most reckless attempt you have ever done to escape. As soon as he returns to the Senju compound, he berates you harshly. Yet it isn't until he threatens you that your family will bear the consequences that you truly listen in horror to him.

Pain

🌧️Pain is unforgiving against anyone who stands in the way of his goal, merciless against anyone who goes against him. Nagato's clear paranoia to lose you results in Pain desiring control and obedience from your side yet your stubborn behavior clashes with those demands on multiple levels. If you would have been anyone else, you would be dead. Whether that is something to feel relieved about or not is up to debate though. Even Konan who expresses more kindness and empathy for you can't save you at one point as you never give up in your attempts to flee from the tower you are held as a captive. She still tries to somehow convince Nagato to go easy on you yet a threat just snaps as you do it again and again. He has been going too easy on you. Otherwise you wouldn't attempt an escape as easily as you do. He will teach you what happens from now on so that you will consider the idea the next time much more carefully. From broken bones to psychological torture to eradicating the people you hold dear to your heart, there are many ways for Pain to force you into obedience. Whether you see him as a monster or not for what he is about to do, just remember that you are responsible for it.

Kakashi Hatake

📖Kakashi has neither the time nor the patience to deal with your reckless and unwanted stubbornness. You seem to enjoy giving him a constant headache, don't you? He didn't know that you wanted to have him play pretend with you by acting like an immature kid. If you insist on acting like a brat though, he will do you the favor and treat you like one. Whether he locks you up or has to use chains or ropes to constrict you, your fierce determination to remain a troublemaker remains. Kakashi is far too possessive and protective to let you ever leave him though and his ninken are constantly summoned to detect your smell and track you down. If he wouldn't be so busy as a Jonin and later on as a Hokage, perhaps Kakashi would show a tad bit more patience but time is a luxury he cannot always afford. He has to find more effective ways to force you in line, even if he knows that this will only alienate you further away from him. He gives you one last warning though before his patience completely crumbles, his Sharingan staring through your soul as he reminds you that there will be consequences if he catches you again. Would you prefer a broken leg or the vision of a genjutsu?

Obito Uchiha

🔥As much as Obito's delusional infatuation wants to reject the reality, a part of him is unable to deny that it is your fear of him that has led you to attempt to flee multiple times already only to be swiftly stopped by him. It breaks him mentally and spiritually to witness those fearful eyes looking at him yet he knows that it isn't your fault. It is the world and the people inhabiting it that have brainwashed you to believe that he is the bad guy you have to fear so even throughout his shattered insanity, he remains sickly sweet to you whenever he catches you and brings you back. The sweet kisses of comfort only make your chest tighter with growing panic though. Black Zetsu suggests that he should punish you for he is making a fool out of himself by being so lenient to you yet Obito warns him coldly to never mention such an outrageous idea again in his presence. He could never hurt you after all. Although perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to show you what might happen to you if you would run away from him. The genjutsu he puts you through from that day on tear your mind apart yet this is reality he is showing you so you can see the world and the people for what they truly are. Do you understand it now?

Shisui Uchiha

🍂Even if Shisui is the one who is quite tolerant and lenient under normal circumstances, his attitude changes after you have seen behind his facade. He has to be more careful with you from now on and your defiant behavior only makes the situation worse. He is regarded as a natural talent, works for the Anbu and has to serve the vilage. This means that it could take weeks for him to finish a mission and he knows that you would never sit back and wait for him. You would use that chance to escape as far away as you can. It is already a bit of a challenge to keep the current situation a secret from other people whenever he has to catch you quietly in yet another failed attempt of yours to run away and he can't even remember how often he had to have a stern conversation with you, the normally light air around him gone and replaced by silent tension. Eventually he finds himself considering to use Kotoamatsukami on you, his Mangekyo Sharingan ability. Shisui is fully aware that he would manipulate your mind by using it. On the other hand you would never know that and it's not like he would actively influence your feelings for him. It would merely be a little push to make everything less difficult.

Itachi Uchiha

🍡For Itachi the situation is quite difficult to handle because he knows what would happen to you if you were to be caught by someone. The connection you have with him would never allow you to live normally again as there would always be someone who would come for you to lure him out. It is solely his fault and he harbors guilt for it and will most likely do so for the rest of his life. Yet you are still here, abducted by him because his desire was stronger than his guilt. He as taken a lot of time to explain everything to you in hope that you would understand yet your stubbornness also seems to be stronger than everything else. Itachi finds himself silently giving way to despair because he knows that the next mission of the Akatsuki is only a question of time and most disheartening of all is that you know it too. You're just waiting for him to leave so that you can escape for good. Even if he knows that he has no right for your love, a part of him still feels hurt by the fact that you wish for his absence as much as you do. He can't let you run away though. It is too dangerous and he is far too selfish. Don't think that you will have a chance just because he will leave for a mission.

Sasuke Uchiha

💙Sasuke has little to no tolerance for the defiance you put up as you do literally everything to escape from him. He is fully aware of his unbearable behavior and possessive attitude that smothers to the point where you feel like you can't breathe but he doesn't care. He just wants you. His attitude is condescending and his words are hurtful and sharp whenever he yanks you back harshly as he has stopped you from yet another unsuccessful escape attempt, his grip tightening with each plea and whimper of yours to let go. You really want him to hurt you with the way you get on his nerves, don't you? You could have just said so to begin with instead of failing so miserably in your poor attempts to outsmart him. Sasuke will put you very quickly back into your place and he does so by using violence and fear as nothing else seems to work with you. He doesn't feel guilty about it either when he spills your own blood and scars your skin and breaks your leg so that you won#t be capable of running away from him to begin with. Stop your crying, he'll be responsible enough to take care of you afterwards. He does hope that you have learned your lesson though.

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deathsbestgirl · 4 hours

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So Never Again. Just saw this post and the way she looks up at him there is on a level with Mulder’s famous Fallen Angel eyes and his reaction to her? He doesn't melt? He chooses violence and being a dick? Please tell me why.

i LOVE this question because it is so easy to see it from scully's perspective. it's her episode. but you really have to think about mulder's perspective.

for mulder, this seems out of nowhere, and in his mind she was extremely inattentive with his informant on a case he's taking seriously. he doesn't understand what she's really asking or what the problem is, and a big part of that is she doesn't exactly either. it's almost like she's blaming him for the stand still in her life, but at the same time wants to be seen & appreciated (in a way that she understands, can feel, can see). and i don't think she could have figured it out the way she needed to with mulder. she needed the safety of talking to a stranger, someone inconsequential to her life. (like there's no way she could have that "other fathers" conversation with him lol) so ed jerse is the one to give her that. (she does with ed what she can't yet do with mulder. something neither of them are ready for and she isn't brave enough to do yet. and like. idk i just think she needed this! regardless of mulder lol)

like: "this isn't about you. or maybe it is, indirectly. i don't know." the one thing she got right is "i don't know" lol so of course mulder is confused!!

if you place leonard betts first, she's contemplating what she's leaving behind. has she had any impact working on the x files? on mulder? who is going to remember her? what evidence of her life will be left? in that office...it looks like she's had very little effect. (but i do not subscribe to this one.)

if never again is first, which i like better lollll (it makes more sense to me. i understand why people like lb first, it's more clear cut. it puts a reason behind her behavior. but i just don't think it quite fits. scully literally doesn't know what's wrong. if she was already worried about cancer, i think it would come across differently. but she's frustrated & confused and she wants for something she can't admit, express, pinpoint, articulate? idk what word i'm looking for lol) scully's just hit that point in her pattern again, her cycle...it took her four years, and after some rough cases (paper hearts – she couldn't help mulder despite how she tried, el mundo gira – a dead end. and idk, so many of their cases. and she's always wrong, he always does the crazy thing, he's always hurt)...well anyway, at the end he's still asking "all because i didn't get you a desk?" he still isn't quite understanding, until she says it's her life and he almost says "yes but it's become mine." he doesn't say it, they sit in silence, and in leonard betts, he tells her she did a good job & should be proud. all his little jokes like he's trying to make her laugh, to get back to their usual banter. because he wants to make her smile. so he understood at least a little by leonard betts. but they also come to a silent understanding. i just love the way kae talks about it. and i think the end is kind of the explanation for the beginning. the end is the real answer to the whole episode, and what it took to get there...and this post here, kae just understands him and talks about him in a way that i feel. it's exactly what i see in a way i could never articulate. (and she does my favorite thing!!! connects different moments. the characterization is so good.) and she has such a special insight to both of them, different patterns, but to me two sides of the same coin.

and so, either way, at the beginning of never again, he's completely thrown because he doesn't know. this is when their bad verbal communication and personal issues/insecurities/fears take hold. they're both so good at taking too much responsibility.

we're seeing into scully's mind a bit, but we aren't really seeing into his. but he's afraid, he doesn't want her to leave (something he's feared for a long time), he thinks space is the answer to whatever's going on. but he's also kinda needy and he can't just say that. so he calls her and they misunderstand each other again and she makes a date. he isn't trying to be an ass but he's scared & defensive, and he gets like that when she makes him nervous. like whenever she believes (beyond the sea, revelations, all souls, en ami). it feels like that to me. he's afraid, but this time he thinks he's the problem, their work is the problem. and he kinda said the worst thing he could say to her at that moment. "you were just assigned" — he has no idea how she understood that, how it hurts her. (and she's not thinking about how he means it, what he thinks/feels/fears.) and really, it's because she sucks at just saying the thing as much as he does. it takes them a long time to work out their direct communication. their unspoken communication, the way they work on their cases doesn't translate to their personal relationship. as intimate as their partnership is, working through their own issues takes time and it's those things that hinder them moving forward for so long. ya know?

i think @randomfoggytiger talks about it beautifully here — in depth essay on never again. here they touch on mulder's fear/walls & scully's insecurities/needs. it's a journey!! which they talk about here. and i forget what this one was (lol) but i'm sure i saved it for a reason: a little master post. i love the way foggy breaks things down, especially visually. it's something i could never do.

i also reblogged some other never again posts. not completely on topic but it's all connected!! (you can definitely go through my never again tag to see more probably too!)

#calimanc #asks #never again #dana scully #fox mulder #LITERALLY I DONT SAY ANYTHING #READ THE LINKED POSTS #lmaooooooo #my brain is an ouroboros tbh #mulder and scully #the x files

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nekkomaa · 1 day

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Warnings: Violence, inappropriate language, manipulation, toxic relationships.

Notes: I'm really surprised that I managed to write another chapter in such a short space of time. I hope this cheers you up a bit! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!!!

I'd love to know if you'd prefer a protagonist with a name, or a “reader” protagonist

Portuguese version published on Wattpad

Word count: 2038

“You know I love you very much, don't you, darling?” David smiles at you, a venomous smile, his gaze containing a silent threat, daring you to do something wrong while he's away.

“I know. I love you too.” You answer, it's disgusting to have to say it, you've hesitated many times before, but you knew the hard way that it was better to go with the flow of things, to let things go his way. Here, you're nothing. “Come back safe.” You say, as he waves to you and walks through the front door. Secretly you wish he'd never come back.

“I'll be back soon.” He replies, his voice muffled as the door closes.

You don't move, not until you stop listening to the sound of the car's tires against the gravel. Letting out a breath you didn't even know you were holding, you move towards the bedroom. You'd go back to sleep, it was late and you didn't even like the idea of playing the good wife and saying goodbye. At this point you were in an internal struggle, not knowing what to feel, but at the same time you felt nothing, you felt hatred for him.

You climb the steps slowly, the darkness of the house becomes gloomy, as you face the large corridor that extends to the end of the stairs, you take a moment to look at the white door at the end of the corridor, you think about trying to open it in a moment of courage, he wasn't home, he couldn't stop you from opening the door.

You give up when you remember that the door would obviously be locked, David wasn't stupid, he knew that someone could try to open the door while he was away, whether it was you or the maid.

Opening the bedroom door, you are surprised by a cold wind coming from the window, a strange feeling of fear and doubt comes over you. You're sure that when you left the room, the window was closed, as was the whole house. With hesitant steps you walk to the window, there is no light except the new moon shining outside. When you reach the window, you feel your body shiver, the sensation of being watched passes through you for a moment, you look down cautiously and discover that the guard who is always at the door is passed out and tied up in front of the jeep they use for work.

Your heart races, you hear his pulse in your ear, you're stunned for a moment, not knowing whether to take the opportunity to flee, or whether you should hide, someone has passed out the guard and tied him up, just when David isn't at home, and by chance the window is open, your window.

Your thoughts are racing, you know there's someone in the house with you, but how did he get in so quickly? David left a few seconds ago, could you have wasted more than half an hour just climbing the stairs?

With a quick breath you feel the need to look for any kind of weapon to defend yourself, whoever got in here certainly wouldn't spare your life. You look next to you, a tacky lamp is there, and next to it a medium-sized plant pot, you grab it without thinking too much, as you turn back you squint your eyes trying to see into the partially lit room, you notice something moving towards you and you don't hesitate to throw the pot in its direction.

You can see the silhouette of a person, the vase hits them and falls to the floor, apparently it didn't even have an effect, you're not sure where you hit it, but you knew that if you didn't hit a vital part you were screwed.

He kept advancing, the black shadow was fast, you dodged by reflex when you hit him the first thing you saw, a pillow was thrown and distracted him long enough for you to run towards the door. Panic filled your veins, you would be killed, you would die living a dull life shrouded in panic.

Anger fills your senses, you hate it all, you hate David, you hate this house, you hate looking in the mirror and seeing a shell of what you were with each passing day, you hate yourself.

You can only hear your quick steps towards the kitchen, you only hear the rustle of clothes behind you, whatever is chasing you moves like a ghost.

The sharp turn you make at the door seems to delay your pursuer by a few seconds, giving you time to grab the first pan you see in front of you to defend yourself, the kitchen is brighter than your bedroom thanks to the large windows it has, you can see what's chasing you as soon as you turn back, But you didn't even have time to register what it looked like, as in the blink of an eye he was inches away from you with something in his hand, without wasting any time you hit the pan on his hand and then on what you thought was his head, the sound of the pan hitting echoed in the empty house.

Your luck seemed to run out the moment that pot hit his head. You felt your throat tighten immediately afterwards, the air being cut from your lungs.

You could take a closer look at what was chasing you now, unfortunately it was in the worst way, and not with the chaser passed out from the pan.

Everything was incredibly black except for the white skull staring at you in the dark, you couldn't see the eyes through the holes, but you could feel them piercing you. The tightness in your throat loosened slightly as soon as he saw that you weren't squirming. The pan that had been in your hand was forgotten on the floor, the counter behind you was clean, there were no weapons to use, if you wanted to get out alive, you had to be smart.

Anger and fear were strongly intertwined with each other, but anger in a fragile body like yours wouldn't solve anything. Fear, however, only served to make you soft, the survival instinct seemed to work the other way around, telling you to stay still, as if your predator couldn't see you, as if your predator didn't have his hand on your throat.

“What…” Your voice comes out lower and shakier than you first intended, but you continue anyway. “What do you want from me?” The man in front of you brings his second hand into your field of vision, the knife glinting on the moon, his body trembling with anticipatory fear. He realizes this and lowers the knife until it is facing his face.

“No funny business, okay?” He says to you and carefully releases you, his gloved hand moves away from your neck and he signals for you to remain silent. You just nod back. There were no loopholes to escape, so collaborating at the moment seemed the right thing to do.

He ties your wrists together in front of you and uses them to guide you into the room where he entered. He sits you on the bed and faces you. He seemed big before, but now, this was much more than you first thought. That made it worse, he seemed much more indimidating with her.

“You're going to tell me what I want to know, if you lie, I'll take action.” He remains where he is staring at you for a while longer before signaling for you to speak. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.” His voice remains low, he doesn't seem to care, anyway, even if you were completely hysterical screaming and calling for help, no one would come, he's passed out the only guard in the house, and in the place where you live, so far away from everything, it's obvious that no one would ever hear you.

“Where's your husband? Where did he go?” His voice was harsh, to the point. He seemed out of patience.

“I-I… don't know” His voice faltered, he took it as a lie. The knife from before soon came into view again, he twirled it between his fingers like a threat.

“I'm sure we fought before, didn't we? No lies, or should I make it clear that I'm armed?” His voice showed a lack of patience, and you certainly wouldn't want to test his patience.

“I swear.” You tried again.

“Little thing, if you're going to lie you should try to be more convincing, anyone swears. Now tell the truth, where is your shitty little husband?” He takes a step closer, the knife still twirling between his fingers. The movement would be mesmerizing if it weren't for this situation. “Aren't you going to tell me that a good wife like you doesn't know where her husband is?” He teases, his voice now sounding sweet, a hint of amusement in it.

“I don't know where he is! You have to believe me!” You beg as he comes closer, the knife threatening you with every move.

“And why would I believe you, darling? As far as I know you're just pretending you don't know anything just to get your husband's fat ass off the hook.” The knife hovers inches from your neck, you swear you can feel the cold steel.

“I don't know who you are or what you want but if it's money or some kind of information I'm sorry you're talking to the wrong person!” You speak quickly, despair coursing through your veins, you're going to end up dead, and you haven't even had a chance to leave this place.

“You have to know something. He's not keeping you here for free.” He comes close to your ear. “Even if you are his pet, it's impossible that you don't know anything.” He steps back and watches your reaction.

Swallowing dryly, you remember the room at the end of the corridor, the place you never entered. “There is, there's a room at the end of the corridor.” You stutter as the knife lightly grazes your neck, stinging as he moves away from you.

“Yes? And what's in the room?” He asks.

“All the letters he receives are there, if there's any kind of information it's there.” You reply, the man seems satisfied with your answer.

“I said you knew something.” He comments, his voice now more amused, something like a mockery of I knew it! “You're coming with me.” He pulls you up and leads you into the hallway. The white door at the end faces you, you hope to escape from this house as soon as this man leaves with whatever he's looking for, if you stay, and David comes back, you're sure to be dead.

The man turns the handle and the door doesn't move. He snorts in annoyance and pushes you behind him.

“I don't have the key.” You say as soon as he pushes you back.

“Well, I never said I needed one.” He replies quickly. You watch him step away from the door and kick it, the door opens on the second kick and soon he's pulling you into the room with him.

“I told you what I know, you're going to let me go… right?” The uncertainty in his voice is palpable, you wince as he throws you a look. With the light in the room now, you can see his eyes. A deep brown stares back at you, if before he was intimidating even without seeing you properly, imagine now that those eyes pierce right through to your soul from across the room.

“I don't usually leave witnesses, you little thing.” That's the only thing he says to you.

Credits for the mask used in the second image: @Mcmorthern on twitter.

If you are the owner of the image and want it removed, please contact me!

#call of duty #cod x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost fanfiction #ghost cod

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rubra-wav · 3 days

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Falling Through The Cracks : Hazbin Hotel x reader

[ Prologue: The Price Of Overtime ]

Word count: 2.7k

A/N There isn't a lot of interaction with the characters yet bc this is just establishing how reader got there, but there will be with most of the hotel in chapter 2 🙏

This was bc I reached 300 followers. Thank you for getting me to that milestone 💛

Cw SFW, gn!reader, stalking, slightly descriptive depiction of violence, death, vomit(?), reader has a bad time pretty much

Your steps echoed out in the darkness as you walked down the pockmarked sidewalk. The only thing keeping you from falling flat on the pavement with how dark it was was barely working street lights.

It felt as if you were walking in a different plain of existence at 12am through the eerily silent and abandoned streets, the unnatural lights which cast a sickly yellow glow over everything only added to that impression.

Normally, you would have knocked off at your job before the sun had set to avoid the crazies out at night in your city. Overtime rates seemed worth it this morning, though; a decision you absolutely regretted now.

In-between the cries of the crickets, frogs and the other normal sounds of the night - a quiet sound like a second pair of footsteps had been following you for a while now, although each time you looked over your shoulder and stopped in the middle of the gloomy patches of light lining your trek home, nothing was behind you and the second pair of steps stopped along with your own.

This constant seeking of reassurance did absolutely nothing to calm your steadily rising hackles, however.

As your eyes scanned the abandoned streets all around you, your hair stood on end. Something was there, and you could feel it. Somehow the lack of life made it worse then if you could actually see whoever the person was following you.

Maybe it was paranoid bullshit in reality, but you would far rather it be your mind playing tricks on you than die finding out it was real. You quickened your pace.

The seconds ticked by extremely slowly due to your hyper-awareness of everything going on around you, your eyes darting around to try and catch sight of whoever it was; instead only finding the shadows of tree limbs which were all too human-like and the occasional bird which was startled due to your presence.

You were just a few minutes away from home, so if you could just reach it-

You startled, becoming rigid where you stood, trembling as jittery adrenaline began flowing through you as you heard it.

The low sound of a whispering voice flowed out of the inky darkness, a melodic sound which tickled at your ears and made your mind feel strange, almost like zoning out.

It felt.. Nice after the long day you had had. It felt right. You couldn't quite understand the words being spoken, it sounded like some kind of long-forgotten dead language, but it lulled you into calmness.

‘Wha… are y…’ A half-formed thought which was drowned out. Your eyelids felt heavy as the stress of the day weighed on your shoulders, the siren call feeling like a warm hug in comparison to the fear of the unknown that was quickly ebbing away.

‘What… you.. doi..’ You just wanted to sleep so badly.

You swayed in place, body stubbornly fighting your mind's desire to collapse and do as the whispering voice was seemingly telling you.

The stranger's words would have fully ensnared you if your rational thought hadn't screamed out finally after its continuous suppression.

‘What are you doing!’

You snapped back to reality, suddenly aware of the way the footsteps had grown louder, a glimpse of the outline of an inhumanly tall person just out of view under the poor lighting visible from the corner of your eye.

Oh fuck.

It was like a fire was lit under you all at once as you finally comprehended just how royally screwed you could have been had you waited for whatever supernatural bullshit this was to catch up with you. You ran as fast as you could, a primal response to flee suddenly waking up and prompting you to haul ass as fast as you could away from the figure.

The world blurred around you as you passed lines of trees and occasional benches on your way, your scared mind fearing that any of the long shadows cast could be inhabited by whatever it was.

Your heart beat out of your chest, feeling light-headed with the mixture of fear and adrenaline as your ability to quickly move kicked into high gear.

Your throat and lungs burnt, hair plastered to your forehead with sweat uncomfortably, but you didn't stop even once as it gained on you.

Whatever it was saying only grew louder - what was gentle and appealing to your ears now stung them and made your head hurt, loudly ringing within them.

You should have just taken a normal shift.

Hey, at least you'd die with a bunch in your bank account though, huh? The pessimistic thought made you laugh out loud despite the pain and fear combing into nausea within you.

You were confident that to any nosy onlookers safely within their houses, you probably looked batshit insane with your wild mess of hair, terrified expression and shaky laughter, running away from ‘nothing’.

You were so fucked.

Tears stung your eyes, blurring with your throbbing headache brought upon the voice now screaming its commands at you.

It fell on deaf ears ironically as you continued the breakneck pace away from it.

You made the mistake of snatching a glance behind you again, throwing your head around and trying to remove the hair from your eyes in an attempt to see if the figure was still present. The toe of your scuffed up converse caught within a large hole in the sidewalk painfully, and you went spiralling downwards.

You cursed loudly.

The next few seconds seemed to move differently as if you fell in slow motion, heartbeat echoing in your ears as the sound of the voice abruptly ended.

Beat beat.

You squeezed your watering eyes shut instinctually as you made eye contact with the grey pavement you were now falling towards.

Beat beat.

You put your hands out in front of you to try to stop yourself from going face first into the ground.

Beat beat.

An odd cracking sound akin to electricity echoed around you.

Beat beat.

You braced for impact, your thoughts a jumbled mess of fabricated monsters you envisioned were going to catch you any second and longing for the mundane problems which had seemed so hard before this.

Beat beat.

...

Collision with the ground never came.

What?

The feeling of falling suddenly intensified as time became normal again, hot wind whipping at your tear-stained cheeks and quickly drying them. You opened your eyes.

And promptly began screaming.

The vision of the tops of buildings which were cut into a pentagram shape turned your already struggling brain to mush as you realised you were now falling from a great height into a city rather than just a small distance to the pavement below.

Visceral fear filled you as you quickly approached a seemingly much worse, more gruesome fate.

The tall walls of highly built units rushed past you as you fell with no hope in sight of stopping.

As the garbage ridden streets of the strangely shaped city came into view, you almost managed to cry despite the hot air as a gut-wrenching scent like burning meat and hair hit your nostrils.

Great, you'd die in filth. At least in the streets where you were you would have died with some dignity, but this nightmarish, oddly red landscape robbed you of even that.

'I'm so dead.'

Everything went dark just before your body collided with the alleyway below, your brain trying to afford you one last favour so you wouldn't feel anything from your supposed impending doom.

Vaggie didn't know what to expect on that morning when she and Charlie took a walk through the streets of hell after the announcement that the next extermination would be moved up.

With one hand in her hopeful girlfriend’s to try keep her from running off into the violent streets full of terrified demons killing each other, the other on her trusted spear, she surveyed the shitshow that was the streets of Pentagram city as best as she could with her one eye.

They were trying to recruit more people into the hotel; hoping that the news would lead people to their doorstep with hope that they could escape the next oncoming attack from heaven.

However, it was as if the depravity was dialled up to a hundred. People were desperate, but they weren't desperate in the way that she and Charlie were looking for.

She shook her head at the carnage occurring in the messy streets, all the more outlandishly sinister with the way the red glow of the sky in the Pride ring shone down on everything.

“Everyone is uh, sure more… lively today, aren't they, Vaggie?” Charlie spoke up from next to her as a demon ran full speed at the two of them while yelling nonsense, promptly being cut down in place effortlessly by her spear.

Vaggie sighed softly as her yellow eye looked down at the body to her right, making sure they were dead before pulling out the point of her spear with a sickening squelching sound that prompted the princess to shudder, hand trembling in her's slightly.

“I don't think we're going to find anyone here who..” she trailed off as her eye which was analysing everything going on with rapt attention caught sight of a sinner’s unconscious body being hauled over the shoulder of a more than suspicious looking demoness.

She was unsure of what exactly drew her attention to them, however that's when she began noticing certain.. differences.

Your form was far too small and fragile-looking to be that of a normal resident of hell. Her brows furrowed as she squinted to try get a better look at you from where you slowly started to stir as the demon holding you leaned down to try pick at a freshly fallen body; presumably to pick-pocket them.

Charlie hummed in confusion at the way she stopped speaking, following her line of sight.

She too watched in unbridled surprise as your tangled head of hair raised to reveal your face looking up at them with tired and unfocused puffy eyes.

Your undoubtedly human face.

After you finally grasped what was going on, you startled and began squirming to try and get away from the person holding you around the middle in an uncomfortably tight grip. Your horrified, glossy eyes looked around wildly as the one keeping you in an iron grip yelled at you to stop before landing on Charlie and Vaggie, who were gawking at you in disbelief.

The way that you stared at them as if they had two heads despite looking relatively normal as far as people down here went was the last indication that the two of them needed that you definitely didn't belong here.

Vaggie cursed as Charlie let go of her hand and rushed over to try and help you, steps crunching loudly on the mixture of broken glass and bodies strewn across the ground.

The fallen angel shook her head at the princess blindly rushing in with no weapon, raising her spear to strike the sinner down before they could harm Charlie, fighting to catch up with the overly enthusiastic blonde.

Your world pivoted suddenly as your captor whipped around upon hearing them approaching, turning you to face a graffiti-ridden wall instead. You swallowed down bile as you fought to keep from throwing up with the sky-high nausea filling you at just about everything going on.

This had to be some kind of weird dream. Those weren't actually dead bodies around, right? You weren't actually followed home by a weird supernatural creature, right? Maybe you were just actually unconscious, passed out because you were so tired after the day. Surely that was it.

Your thoughts ticked over into nonsense as your panic grew and grew to the point that you barely heard the altercation happening right next to you.

That is, until something warm splashed against your face and knocked you back to the reality that didn't quite feel real at all.

The person holding you collapsed, and you felt your brain go blank as you saw the silver blade of the shorter woman’s spear sticking out of her back, impaling her all the way through.

You barely felt the collision with the ground.

You slowly pulled yourself out of the now loose grip of the dead sinner who held you with your jaw slack, pupils impossibly wide while you trembled numbly, your mind fighting to make sense of what was even happening.

Bringing your hand up to your cheek, you felt at whatever had splattered on your face, barely able to even feel the heat of it.

It was when you pulled your hand back to find dark crimson staining your palm, that you finally retched loudly before vomiting next to the corpse.

This was all, in fact, very real, and you were in very real danger with whatever was going on.

Your instinct was to run again, but your whole body protested painfully at that idea. You could barely move at all at that point, confined to where you were, whether you liked it or not.

If the two women trying to talk to you - who you couldn't hear for some reason despite their lips moving to form words - decided you were next then you'd lay down and just let it fucking happen.

You were too damn tired to fight it at this point, and your pessimistic brain insisted that considering what had happened, you'd just probably end up being killed elsewhere in this shithole anyway.

You braced yourself for some awful weapon as the blonde woman pressed her hand into her pocket for something as she crouched down in front of you, squeezing your eyes shut in hope you wouldn't have to see yourself violently murdered in the same way that other person was.

Your eyes cracked open again, brow furrowed hard in confusion as something soft brushed over your cheek where the blood had now begun drying against your grimy skin instead.

Charlie swiped her handkerchief across your face, hoping to at least try to give you some relief from your obvious distress by removing the blood off of you.

She was used to hell; all the fighting, murder, blood and whatnot, but she imagined it must've been difficult for someone new - let alone someone who hadn't even become a sinner - to witness hell in about the most brutal, reality-altering way there was.

It made her heart clench with sympathy the way your exhausted eyes looked up at her, mind very clearly shot from your complete lack of response to her questions about how you got there.

Charlie looked to the side as Vaggie crouched down next to her, red pupils wide and looking at her girlfriend as if asking a silent question.

“There's no way that they would survive out here… We need to take them back with us?” Charlie slowly proposed the idea, hesitant but more than ready to argue her point to Vaggie.

Vaggie's half-lidded yellow eye looked down at you, taking in the way you could barely keep yourself awake after it was clear the violence had finally ended.

The hotel for sure had some characters who'd be nasty around someone like you.

Alastor would be an absolute pain to deal with; the cannibalistic overlord probably would be itching to taste human flesh again for the first time in decades.

Then there was Niffty.

She shuddered thinking of the recent situation of the small maid putting drain cleaner in Angel's drink and waiting with sick enjoyment for the pornstar to chug it, only to end up with a nasty surprise. What would that do to a human?

Vaggie took a deep breath through her nose as she pondered the headache keeping you in the hotel would cause. “Yes. Yes we do.” All of the issues that this would stir up in the hotel would be better than letting some poor, still-living soul who somehow managed to get down here fend for themselves against the harsh conditions of the streets of hell.

Her heart may have been dulled in all the years she had been alive, however, it still beat in her chest despite everything. Even she couldn't bear to think about the alternative.

Charlie let out a sigh of relief. She was thankful they were on the same page about this, she wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing she hadn't taken you in.

You wouldn't last a day with the kinds of freaks who'd pounce on you out here.

The princess retracted her handkerchief from your face as it was clear you were calming down now, and she instead gently rested her hand on your shoulder.

“You're safe with us. We'll help you, don't worry.”

Those words wrapped around you comfortingly despite still sounding a bit far away in your hazy state, and your eyes fluttered shut as you muttered out a barely audible "thank you”, before collapsing again.

Charlie laughed quietly as Vaggie moved to pick you up off of the ground before you fell in anything.. gross - er - more gross while she shook her head.

“A living human in hell. How does something like that even happen?” Vaggie asked Charlie, hoping she had some clue of what went on considering her lineage. She found no such solace, however.

“I have no idea. I've never once heard of a still-living soul passing through to hell from earth.” Charlie smiled ecstatically at Vaggie, who cautiously regarded your sleeping form as she picked you up bridal style as if you'd shatter in her arms otherwise.

Charlie stood alongside her and could barely contain her excitement. “buuuut, if we can keep them virtuous enough to still get into heaven while they're under our protection, then they can be proof that our program works!” She exclaimed brightly.

Vaggie smiled despite the doubt licking at the edges of her mind.

She had a very bad feeling about this.

*Throws you this and runs*/j

There might be some scuff, but I refuse to hold this back for even longer bc I said it'd be out like 2 days ago already 💀

If you'd like to be tagged when I update next, then lmk!

Falling Through The Cracks Masterlist

#Falling Through The Cracks - fic #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel Niffty #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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aceghosts · 1 day

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I Know You Feel Lost, But I'm Here To Wander With You

Summary: The week that Rooney’s family died is always the worst week of the year.

Rooney is having a bad week, the anniversary of their family death's looming over them. Luckily, they've got Yorinobu in their corner.

Title comes from Being As An Oceans' Find Our Way.

Rating: M

Warnings: PLEASE MIND THE WARNINGS FOR THIS ONE! This deals very explicitly with Rooney's grief and violent loss of their family. (Rooney is originally from Mass Effect with a Colonist background. This fic is adapting that background.) They are in a dark place, and thus, some of Rooney's thoughts, such as not wanting to exist, may be triggering. It also relieves Rooney's memories of that day and the traumatic things they saw, including watching someone die in their arms. Other warnings are depiction of violence, survivor's guilt, childhood trauma, discussions of dysfunctional childhoods (kind of), and drinking to cope. I think that covers everything, but if I need to tag for anything else, let me know.

Words: 5,188 words

Author's Note: Takes place before the events of CP2077, roughly six years before. I strongly encourage you to read Is This the End Or Is This the Beginning if you have not, as this fic directly references events in that fic.

Tagging (Opt In/Out): @bbrocklesnar, @marivenah, @alexxmason, @sergeiravenov, @voidika,

@carlosoliveiraa, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @derelictheretic, @imogenkol, @theelderhazelnut,

@strangefable, @cassietrn, @direwombat, @cloudofbutterflies92

AO3

The week that Rooney’s family died is always the worst week of the year.

Rooney’s normally unflinching, steady demeanor turns brittle. Their mood is an ever-vicious cycle of grief looping into numbness with static in their brain, which eventually loops back into a grief that threatens to swallow them whole, pulling Rooney beneath its dark depths. Their sleep schedule goes to hell, ghosts haunting their dreams. Even in their waking hours, the ghosts haunt them, always in the corner of their mind. Nothing holds any interest for them, and they’re nauseous all the time, only able to pick at their food. The weight of a broken promise weighs heavily on their shoulders, and Rooney feels like they’re drowning underneath it all, exhausted from fighting the tide. All they want to do is hide in their room underneath blankets until the storm passes, when they finally grasp onto some sense of normality. Most years, Rooney powers through, only taking the day of their family’s death off. Their usual ritual is to spend the day alone, writing unsent letters to the ghosts they carry with them.

Their grief takes on a different form this year, a more malevolent form. It hits harder, a dark, black cloud hanging over them. It’s so hard to breathe, to simply exist. Their limbs are tied down, each movement more difficult than the last. They feel so numb to it all, to the whole point of their existence. All Rooney wants to do is to stop existing, simply dissipate into nothing. They want to let the waves pull them under, to simply stop fighting and give in for once. Rooney wonders if this year is harder because they died and now know death intimately. Maybe, it’s the fact they’re stuck in this Arasaka facility, amongst enemies and isolated from their comrades. Maybe, it’s that small glimpse of what they saw between life and death. Maybe, it’s the fact that they know they will be denied death, doomed to walk this earth as long as someone else demands it. If they died now, Rooney knows Arasaka would pull them back, deny them the dignity of simply being able to die.

And then, there is Yorinobu, Rooney’s only friend in this lonely place. They avoid him, leaving sessions early and ducking into hiding places when he searches for them. He doesn’t need to see Rooney like this, doesn’t have to know about any of this. Rooney doesn’t want him to think less of them, if he doesn’t already know. They need to focus on getting information for him. They need to focus on their mission. And, perhaps selfishly, Rooney does not want Yorinobu to worry about them. No one should have to worry about them. The grief will pass like it always does, and Rooney will be fine...right?

“We’re done, Shepard,” Leah, one of the scientists, says, openly disappointed with their poor performance, a common theme this week, “Go to your next session.” Right, another combat test. Leah had just run through a short test of their quickhacking capabilities. Miles, another scientist, wanted to put Rooney through a combat test with their optical camouflage.

“I will escort them to their next session.” They slowly look over in Yorinobu’s direction, unaware he was there. Arms crossed over his chest, he smiles at them warmly, eyes only on Rooney.

Rooney stares at him blankly, unable to muster even the smallest smile. They should be excited to see Yorinobu, ready to dish out what they know to him. Instead, Rooney feels nothing, hollow, like every other day of this forsaken week. Leah, who must have only realized he was here as well, bows. Shooting a glare at Rooney for their perceived rudeness, she replies, “Yes, Yorinobu-Sama. Shepard would be honored to accompany you.”

Yorinobu’s smile drops, brow furrows in concern as Rooney lethargically walks toward him. Shit, they need to act normally. They fall into step with him as they leave the room, still mute. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

Not nearly a convincing enough answer. “Shepard,” He starts, voice soft, “I know you would prefer to talk with one of your fellow soldiers, but I would like to listen if you need someone.”

Rooney feels a lump in their throat, swallowing it down. “I’m okay,” They assure him, gently brushing their hand against his, “I’m just tired.”

He eyes them suspiciously, eventually relenting. “I have some news that you may be interested in. Some of it I can tell you now, the rest later.” As he talks, Rooney tunes him out, his voice becoming background noise like everything else. Their brain is unable to concentrate, thinking sluggishly. Every once in a while, Rooney offers a nod or a small noise of acknowledgment to keep up the appearance they are listening. “Now, I know you must not be listening.”

Shaking their head as they stop in their tracks, Rooney apologizes, “I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?” Yorinobu stops beside them, placing his hand on their shoulder in concern. Guilt burns within Rooney. He shouldn’t worry about them; no one should. They’ll power through this, just like everyone expects them to.

“I-.”

“Shepard!” Fucking hell, all of the goddamn people it had to be her, Rooney’s least favorite person in the facility. Dr. Naomi Kimura, their psychologist, dredged up every single awful thing mentioned in their psych profile as if it would magically convince Rooney to talk. Instead, Rooney shut down, staring at their hands quietly until their time was up. And this week, she was at her worst, mentioning their family constantly, how hard it must have been, and how Rooney could talk to her. It took every inch of their being to resist punching her, especially when she mentioned Jack. How dare she even mention his name. Rooney prefers dying again to having to talk to Dr. Kimura about one of the worst days of their life. “How are you feeling today, Shepard?” she asks, catching up to the pair.

They look down, staring at their shoes, fists clenched tightly. “I think Shepard is tired,” Yorinobu intervenes, “You should give them space.”

Dr. Kimura sighs. “Yes. Of course, they would be tired,” her pitying voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard, and Rooney bites the inside of their cheek, fighting the urge to scream. “I wanted to make sure that my patient was feeling well, especially on the anniversary of something so tragic.”

“Something tragic?” Yorinobu echoes.

“Their family,” They start walking, unable to listen. Rooney won’t give her the satisfaction of them telling her to shove it. And they don’t know if they can stomach Yorinobu looking at them like…like…

“Excuse us, Dr. Kimura.” Yorinobu excuses himself, catching up to Rooney. “Where are you going? What is goi-?”

“I should go,” Rooney cuts him off, their voice robotic and detached, leaving a confused Yorinobu behind.

—

Later that evening, when Rooney reaches their room after an afternoon of tests, Yorinobu stands outside their room. In his hands, he has a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “Would you like to talk? Or drink?” Yorinobu holds the bottle of whiskey up for Rooney. They soften, recognizing the name on the bottle. It’s the same brand, the one that led to their first real conversation. To Rooney becoming an informant, and eventually, they suppose, a friend. Their eyes water, a sob stuck in their throat. “Did-Did I do something wrong?”

“It’s complicated,” Rooney wipes at their eyes, clearing their throat, “You didn’t do anything wrong.” He relaxes, his shoulders dropping. Yet, Yorinobu’s brow is furrowed, watching them carefully. “We should talk,” Rooney says, knowing that they owe Yorinobu the truth, “Can we go to your office?”

He nods, wrapping an arm around their shoulder. Rooney leans into him, resting their head on his shoulder. He feels so sturdy when they are so weak, like a small boat being tossed upon the waves in a storm.

—

Making themselves comfortable on the black leather couch in Yorinobu’s office, each with a glass of whiskey, Rooney takes a sip, needing to work up their courage. “I…um…” they start hesitantly, the words reluctant to leave their mouth.

Yorinobu slides an arm behind them, hand on their shoulder. “Take your time.”

“Right,” Rooney takes another sip, “Do you remember what I told you about my family?”

“You mentioned they died when you were sixteen,” a horrified look comes over him, quickly connecting the dots, “Is this the day they-?”

Rooney nods, confirming his suspicion as Yorinobu takes a sharp breath. “I’m sure you’ve heard by now how they’ve died.” Everyone knows. In the Militia, it was an open secret that being around Rooney was likely to get you killed. Unlucky Shepard. Go with them on a mission, and you won’t come back.

“I have not.” Wait, what? They look over at him in confusion. “I knew you would tell me on your own terms,” Yorinobu admits, “You are honest with me. I can be patient if you need me to be.”

Their guarded heart softens at his admission. “Thank you.”

“There is no need to thank me.”

Silence washes over the both of them as Rooney thinks through their next words. They’re so used to people knowing them by their reputation. The Soldier who got shit done. The Sole Survivor. With Yorinobu, none of those expectations are placed upon them. Rooney is free to be themself. It is an oddly wonderful feeling; it is an oddly terrifying one. “I guess I could start at the beginning…”

He nods, allowing Rooney to continue. “I grew up in a small Biotechnica Company Town. My mom, Hannah Shepard, worked as the head of security.” They remember their mother, a former Militech officer, brave and fearless. Never backing down. “She was really brave, taught me how to shoot my first gun too. Taught me that it would be my responsibility to look after Jack.” From a young age, their mom had taught them how to shoot, simply stating: ONE DAY, YOU’LL NEED TO PROTECT YOUR BROTHER. A duty that Rooney solemnly took. A duty they failed. “My dad, Aiden Shepard, was an agricultural engineer. He was so kind, always encouraging my brother and me.” Rooney always remembers their dad as a soft, kind man. He had a green thumb, teaching Rooney all he knew about plants and farming. Their favorite memories of him are sitting with their dad on the porch bench on summer evenings, both reading together in silence, yet enjoying each other’s company.

“I had a younger brother, Jack, and a cousin, Danny, my age. Jack was so bright and so sweet. Didn’t have a mean bone in his body. I’m sure if he were still alive, he would have done something great.” In their mind, Jack smiles brightly at them, fiddling with some machine he was working on. His enthusiasm was infectious. Jack deserved to be alive; he should be alive. Not Rooney. “Danny was always getting into trouble, but it was trouble I always wanted to be a part of.” They remember the way he would grin mischievously, ready to drag Rooney and Jack into some of his schemes. Despite the trouble the trio would get into, Rooney wouldn’t trade any of those memories for the world.

“Home was gorgeous.” Rooney still feels the sun on their face, the warm breeze flowing through their hair. They hear the rustle of the wheat as the breeze flows through it. “The skies were always a soft blue with a gentle breeze blowing through the wheat. It was like paradise.” How naive Rooney was. They should have appreciated it more, enjoyed what little time they had there. Now, home was a memory, a place they could never return to.

"I…understand.” His soft utterance surprises them. Yorinobu sips his whiskey. “When I think of my childhood, I think about how wonderful it was sometimes, how happy I used to be…”

“How you wish you could go back,” They finish, “But you can’t, you can never go back.”

“Yes,” the understanding look in his eyes makes Rooney feel a little less lonely, “After what my father had shown me, the veil over my eyes had been lifted. It was a lie, a lie to make me complacent, dependent. He used that lie to mold me into the son he thought I should be. Obedient, Deferential. He had destroyed the home I had known. Your situation is different.”

Rooney sips their whiskey. “Yeah,” their voice cracks, “Home doesn’t exist anymore, wiped off the map, all the people gone.” They pause, their throat tight. “Except for me.” Cursed to live; cursed to survive.

“Shepard,” His thumb rubs comfortingly against the bare skin of their freckled shoulder, “You do not have to tell me this. I will respect-.”

“No, I want to,” They cut him off, inhaling a deep breath, “It’s a little raw considering…”

“I do not want to push if it makes you feel unwell.”

“You’re not pushing; you’re the first one who hasn’t pushed me to talk about this,” Their mind flashes back to Dr. Kimura, always pushing and prodding, “I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

“I am glad I can be here for you.”

Rooney gives him a watery smile, dropping it a second later. “The first thing I remember about this day is the night before, especially the fight that I had with my mom.” Yorinobu raises an inquisitive eyebrow. “We were fighting a lot. I wanted to join a Corp, Militech specifically, to see the world, and she thought I was naive, that I was going to make a huge mistake.”

“Militech?” Yorinobu blurts out, surprised.

They nod. “Imagine how differently things would have turned out if I still joined Militech afterwards.”

“We would not have met.”

“Yeah, I know how Militech and Arasaka feel about each other.” Rooney looks down at their whiskey glass. “I can’t forget what I told my mom that night. I told her that hated her.” I HATE YOU SO MUCH, the awful words reverberate around in their head. “I told her that I hated her for trying to keep me in that stupid town, that I wasn’t going to be stuck there forever, miserable like she was.” YOU CAN’T KEEP ME HERE. I WON’T BE STUCK HERE IN THIS TOWN AND END UP A MISERABLE BITCH LIKE YOU. Their hands shake, tears welling in their eyes. Rooney would give anything to take those words back, to reverse the hands of time, and tell their mom one last time that they love her. They love her so much. Rooney would tell her that they were naive and stupid, understanding what Hannah was trying to protect them from. “What a pair we make, huh? You with Saburo, and me with my mom.”

Yorinobu smiles. “It is natural for children to rebel, to want differently than the path their parents planned for them. You are not wrong for wanting that.”

“I suppose so.” Rooney isn’t sure if they were wrong for wanting, but they should have spoken to their mom differently. “The next day, a group of bandits attacked our town. I’m not sure how they managed it. We fended off attacks before with little damage, but this was different.” It was slaughter, an act of cruel and senseless violence. “Jack, Danny, and I were hanging out in the fields. We were up in an oak tree, watching the clouds as we talked. Then, we saw the smoke. We went to check it out.” Rooney still remembers the tree bark scraping against their palms, barely registering the sting as they fling themself from the tree. “We met Mom at the edge of the field. She handed me a pistol and told me to protect Jack and Danny. The last thing she ever told me was for us to hide and for me to be brave.” ROONEY, TAKE THEM AND HIDE. BE BRAVE FOR ME. The last time Rooney sees their mom is with her back turned to the three as she charges into town, red ponytail with strands of gray swinging in the wind. The pistol is heavy in Rooney’s hands, the full burden of responsibility weighing down on them. “Do you ever feel like you have to protect Hanako?”

“Yes. As children, Hanako and I were close. We only had each other, and I knew I needed to be there for her. I would protect her from any trouble. Even now, as adults, despite our distance, I still want to protect her, free her from my father’s influence. Hanako should be allowed to determine her own path, not a puppet of my father.” Yorinobu takes a sip of his whiskey, conflicting emotions on his face. “Now, Hanako feels she must protect me by playing mediator. In her eyes, all would be right if I became the son my father wanted me to be. If I were to be someone else.”

“You shouldn’t be,” He raises an eyebrow as they awkwardly clarify, “You shouldn’t have to be someone else. I like you as you are.” Yorinobu looks taken aback as they backpedal, “I mean-.”

“Shepard, I understand,” Yorinobu replies cutting them off, “I like you as you are too.”

“Thank you.” Another question comes to them. “What about Kei?” In all their time at the facility, Rooney heard about Kei the least. Possibly because he had been dead since 2023. But they wondered about Yorinobu and his relationship.

“Kei and I were not close. As children, Hanako and I rarely saw him, a distant figure in both our lives. Kei always thought of himself as the dutiful older son, the protector of Arasaka’s legacy. When I left,” Yorinobu’s voice turns bitter, “He saw it as his responsibility to strike me down for daring to defy the family, for not falling into line. Kei paid the ultimate price for his foolishness. I stand, still alive, while he is dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

Yorinobu shakes his head. “It is not your fault. One day, my father will pay for Kei’s death. Continue.”

“I suggested that we should hide. There was a storm shelter beneath the farmhouse where no one would be able to find us. But-.” I CAN’T LEAVE MY MOM AND DAD. WE HAVE TO FIND THEM. They remember how terrified Danny looked, a sixteen-year-old who just wanted his parents. “Danny wanted us to find his parents. He wouldn’t listen to me or Jack.” Danny’s glare is fierce, and he is defiant at Rooney’s suggestion. He storms away with Jack quickly following behind as he tries to calm Danny. “He couldn’t be stopped.” Rooney finishes their glass, reaching out for the bottle of whiskey, and pouring another.

“So, we head to town.” The moment the three teenagers reach town, they all look at each other, knowing they’ve fucked up. Rooney remembers the thick smell of smoke and dead bodies, nearly choking on it. They hold the pistol with the safety off, ready to fire like their mom taught them to. Yet, at the thought of shooting a real person, Rooney’s hands shake, the pistol wobbling. “Danny thought we needed to head to the center of town.” COME ON, MY PARENTS SHOULD BE AT THE CITY HALL. “I try to argue with him, but he takes off running and rounds the corner. And then, I hear it.”

Yorinobu’s mouth drops in horror as a sick feeling rises in their stomach. The gunshots echo in their ears, deafening, as Rooney sprints towards the alley. Danny is on the ground, red pooling beneath him as a bandit stands over him. Rooney raises the pistol, pulling the trigger. The first shot hits the bandit’s shoulder. The second one hits him in the chest. Later, when Rooney learns to shoot a sniper rifle in the militia, they promise to never miss, to always make sure that their bullet hits the target. They will not let another innocent pay with their life. Rooney sips their glass, before continuing, “Jack and I grab Danny,” Danny’s green t-shirt is soaked in blood, only groaning as the two pull him off the ground, “The local town doctor is only two blocks away. If anyone can help Danny, it’s her.” It is only later that Rooney will find out that this was a fool’s errand, that the local doctor is already dead.

“Jack and I manage to get Danny to the clinic. We think we’ve made it, that the three of us are going to be safe.” It feels like a journey of a thousand miles, but relief washes over Rooney as the clinic door slides open. They’re safe; Jack, Danny, and Rooney are going to make it. HEY! Rooney turns as a Bandit turns to face them, raising his rifle at the trio. “As we enter the clinic, another bandit finds us.” Rooney raises the gun, preparing to fire. Jack, blue eyes wide, shoves Rooney and Danny through the doorway. JACK! Shots ring out, deafening as Rooney screams, a desperate plea for someone, anyone, to help. Jack slumps to the ground as Rooney lets Danny go. They raise their pistol, flicking the safety off as they unload the pistol. Rooney empties the pistol into the bandit, each shot ringing loudly in their ears. When the pistol finally clicks empty, long after the bandit has fallen to the ground, Rooney drops it, the pistol clattering loudly to the ground. “He shoots Jack. I’m able to stop the bandit, but it’s already too late.”

“I grab Jack and Danny, dragging them into the clinic. I find an empty room, somewhere we can hide.” Grabbing Jack and Danny, Rooney pulls them into the clinic, a herculean effort fueled by pure adrenaline. They find an empty room, hiding with Jack and Danny in a dark corner. Danny’s eyes are unfocused, his mouth slightly open. Rooney doesn’t need to feel his pulse to know that he is dead. They turn to Jack, who reaches out for his older sibling. “Jack grabs onto me. I beg for him to let me go, but all he wants is his older sibling. His grip loosens…” He wraps his arms around Rooney’s neck tightly, clinging to them as he bleeds out in their arms. Rooney holds him, alternating between telling Jack that they love him (JACK, I LOVE YOU! PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME!) and begging him to let go so they can help him (YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO! I’LL BE RIGHT BACK WITH HELP!). Eventually, his grip loosens, Rooney silently sobbing as their brother dies. In the Unification War, when they hold dying young men, trying to comfort them in their last moments, they will always remind Rooney of Jack. They will always be Jack, terrified in their final moments, begging for some sort of comfort, that everything will be okay. “And my brother is dead.”

Tears stream down their face as Rooney grips their whiskey tightly. “I hide in the clinic for what seems like an eternity.” They wait until the screaming dies down, and even then, Rooney doesn’t leave, afraid the bandits will be waiting for them. After the screaming has been dead for a long time, Rooney makes their way out of the clinic, looking upon the destruction of their town. Every corpse is a familiar face, someone they’ve known their whole life. “Eventually, Nomads, who regularly traded with us and did odd jobs for Biotechnica, pass by, and…” Well, the rest is history.

“Rooney, I’m-I’m so sorry…” Yorinobu seems to be at a loss for words, unsurprising. No one ever seems to know what to say, and Rooney can’t blame them.

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.” They finish off the glass, pouring themself another. Yorinobu tilts his head in confusion, perhaps concerned by their harsh, detached tone. “It’s the bandits fault for destroying my town. It’s my fault that Jack and Danny are dead, that I couldn’t protect them.”

Yorinobu sits straight up, removing his hand from their shoulder. Rooney misses his touch, a sole comfort, perhaps more than they deserve. He places his glass down on the table. Yorinobu grabs their glass, placing it down beside his. Rooney doesn’t fight him, unable to look at him, only looking down at their hands. Yorinobu takes their hands in his, his touch desperate. “You cannot blame yourself. You were sixteen.”

“I can blame myself,” They look at him, meeting his eyes, “It was my job to protect Jack. He’s my younger brother. He needed me, and I failed him. Danny, too.” After their town, Rooney swore that they would protect others from suffering the same fate.

He looks slightly horrified, and Rooney wonders if he is thinking of himself and Hanako, perhaps seeing a mirror image of Jack in Hanako. Yorinobu releases their hands, only to cup their face, wiping away the tears. “It was not your fault.” He stresses every word, like a general giving a command to a stubborn soldier. On some level, Rooney knows this is irrational. Their psych in the militia, a no-nonsense woman whom Rooney felt safe talking to, used to tell them the same thing. So did their fellow soldiers in their support group. But Rooney couldn’t let it go, not when it had driven them their whole life. Not when their family had rejected them for it. Their tears fall faster, a sob escaping from them as Yorinobu’s eyes widen in surprise. “Something else troubles you.”

“Yeah.”

“Please tell me.”

“Remember our first conversation, when I told you to leave something alone?”

Confusion briefly crosses his face before the realization dawns. “You looked upset when I asked,” They hear a touch of concern in his voice, “Did it involve your family?”

“Yes,” the vision of their family around the dining room table is startlingly clear in their mind, “I saw my family.”

“You…saw them?”

“Don’t know what it was. Might have been a hallucination; might have been my mind playing a trick on me, but I saw them.” Rooney’s voice trembles, “I got to go home, see them all again, and they...they…” Their throat tightens, the words too difficult to speak. “They wouldn’t let me stay.”

“Rooney,” Yorinobu exhales their name, distraught as he wipes away more tears.

“I failed to protect Jack and Danny, and I wasn’t allowed to come home,” Rooney swallows back a sob, “I wasn’t good enough so I couldn’t stay.”

Yorinobu lets go of their face, pulling Rooney into his lap. They straddle his waist, trying to openly sob as they lay their hands on his chest. “Rooney,” His right hand lays on the back of their neck, “You did not fail. You were sixteen. No one could have asked more of you.” Rooney doesn’t believe him; they don’t know if they ever will. This guilt will gnaw at Rooney for the rest of their life until they take their final breath. If Rooney is ever allowed to take one. “Believe me,” Yorinobu pleads sincerely, “Please.”

Yorinobu’s earnestness cracks the stone walls around their heart. They collapse into his chest, burying their face in the crook of his neck. Rooney tightly grips the fabric of his black and magenta silk shirt, holding onto him like an overboard passenger holds onto a raft, adrift in the ocean. A sob escapes them, and Yorinobu’s hand comes to their back, rubbing circles in the black fabric of their tank top. His other hand rests on their thigh, thumb stroking along the seam of the black fabric. “If you need to, cry.”

They can’t fully break down, not for a lack of trying. Instead, Rooney holds him tightly, crying softly as Yorinobu comforts them. His voice is soothing, a tether to reality for them.

—

Eventually, Rooney finds they have no more tears left to cry. They’re exhausted, worn down to the bone. “Thank you.” Their voice feels raw and scratchy, their throat tight.

“Do you feel better?” He asks, watching them with concern. “Please be honest with me.”

Honesty is the least of what he deserves; Yorinobu deserves so much from them. “No,” They’re not sure if they will ever be okay, “I don’t know if I will be, but you being here….”

Yorinobu releases the breath he was holding. “Do you need-?”

They shake their head. “I just want to sleep.”

“Allow me to take you to your room.” Rooney gets up off his lap, untangling themself from Yorinobu. He follows them off the couch, slinging an arm around their shoulder.

They slide their arm around his waist, resting their head on his shoulder. Together, the pair walk silently down the Arasaka halls alone. Rooney feels a swell of affection towards him. There was no reason for him to be this kind to them, and yet…he was. Perhaps Rooney and Yorinobu were kindred souls, both alone in a hostile place looking for someone who would see them as they are.

When the pair reaches Rooney’s room, Yorinobu asks, “Will you be fine if you are left alone tonight?” Maybe. Rooney isn’t going to hurt themself, but the nightmares worry them. Sometimes, they relive the scenes over and over, a gruesome horror movie on repeat. Their silence is enough to answer his question. “I am staying.”

Rooney frowns. “You don’t need to stay.” They won’t be more of a burden on him.

“I want to stay with you,” Yorinobu opens the door, “Please let me.”

A small spark of humor arises in them. “I didn’t know you were eager to get into my bed.”

Yorinobu laughs, slightly surprised. “You must be feeling better.”

“Somewhat,” They smile at him shyly, “Thanks to you.”

He looks smug, clearly proud of himself. “To bed.”

A few minutes later, the duo crawl into bed with Rooney on the right and Yorinobu on the left. The tiny bed is meant for one person, but Rooney and Yorinobu make it work, spooning close together. Rooney’s metal arm wraps around his chest, Yorinobu’s hand resting on top of their hand. They are pressed tight against his back, cuddling him. “Are you comfortable?” He asks, his tone a little unsure. “Would you prefer I hold you?”

“No. I feel better holding you, unless you want to change positions.”

“I like this,” Yorinobu replies softly, his voice sending a warm and tingly feeling through them.

“Good.” The darkness and silence of the room descend upon them. A short while later, as they doze off, Rooney hears a soft snore from Yorinobu. They bite back a soft laugh, striking them as slightly cute. Rooney whispers, careful not to wake him, “Thank you for everything. I don’t know what I would have done without you today. It’s the first time I haven’t felt alone on this day. I don’t know if I can ever return the favor.” They pause briefly. “But I promise I will try to be there for you in any way you need me to be.”

Closing their eyes, Rooney allows themself to fall asleep, comfortable and safe with Yorinobu in their arms.

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