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justmeinadaze · 1 year

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Saying Sorry (Steve X You)

A/N: My valentines gift to you. I've been thinking it's been awhile since I've created a series with just Steve and for some reason I'm crushing on season one King Steve so alas...I bare you this. I definitely have an idea of where I want this to go and I hope y'all like it so we can go through it together :)

The title and the idea came from a song I was listening to. Like I said I've been listening to my emo music more so lol

Warnings: Smut for sure. The reader does get assaulted but its very brief ( she is smacked) and Steve swoops in to save the day. These two are childhood friends who grow apart. The reader has rumors being spread about her (calling her a slut and cheap) .

Word Count: 4710

You and Steve had known each other since you were kids growing up in Hawkins. The first time you met him was in kindergarten on the playground. He was extremely shy, sitting by himself in a nook within the jungle gym.

“Why are you hiding?” He jumps at the sound of your voice.

“I’m not hiding! I just… I don’t know anyone yet.”

“Okaaaay. How are you going to meet anyone though if you don’t talk to people?”

“Well, I’m meeting you.”

When you smile at him, he returns it with a little one of his own as you sit down beside him.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Steve.”

He was incredibly sweet and kind. On valentine’s day he brought you a card that he had made with your favorite candy tapped inside. During nap time, he would lay beside you and the teacher would always end up separating you two because you couldn’t stop giggling. On your birthday, you invited him to your house for a sleep over. Your mom was surprised when he showed up alone without his parents.

“Steve, honey, where’s your mom or dad? I was hoping to meet them and introduce myself.”

“Um, my dad is at a meeting and…I don’t know where my mom is. She left before I did.”

Your mom looks at him with concern before she sighs.

That night you two created a little fort out of blankets in your room and curled up underneath it in sperate sleeping bags.

“Is it normal for you to be alone at home?”, you ask turning to lay on your side to face him.

“Yeah. Usually there’s a nanny or housekeeper that looks after me but after they leave sometimes my mom and dad leave to.”

“Is it lonely?” Steve doesn’t respond instead turning his eyes to the floor. “Well…you can come over here anytime you want!”

He grins at you and you can’t help but giggle.

“Kids, go to bed! It’s after midnight!” You both laugh as your dad shouts from down the hall.

As you two grew up, you started growing closer with him becoming your best friend and you his. In middle school, your bodies started changing and Steve seemed a bit more focused on his appearance.

“How’s my hair? Does it look good?”

“Steve! Calm down.”, you laugh at him. “Your hair looks perfect as always. Don’t be so nervous!”

“How can you be so relaxed? Aren’t you nervous?”

You and Steve were going on a double date with some of the other kids from school. He had a huge crush on a girl from his English class but was so scared of messing things up. You offered to go with him with one of the guys who had been flirting with you to ease his mind.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I don’t really like Travis all that much. I mean I like him but not like…you know?”

He softly smiles as he continues to run his fingers through his hair. “Not one bit.”

You gently reach for his hand and smooth the mess he made on top of his head. “Steve, you have no reason to be nervous. You are a great guy and if Jennifer doesn’t realize that well then fuck her.”

He cackles at your curse as he pulls you into a hug. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

After the date that night, you noticed a change in him. It was very small but noticeable to you especially when he called you up after your mom dropped him off back at his house.

“See? I told you there was nothing to worry about!”

“Yeah, it was weird though. I’ve never actually kissed a girl before.”

“Did you like it?”

“I did.” You heard his smile through the phone. “She said something before that didn’t make sense. She said that you and I shouldn’t be friends.”

“What?! Why?”

“She said you’re a bit of a…a dork.” He panicked at your silence. “Which is stupid because, obviously, you aren’t and even if you were you know I don’t care about that kind of thing. I love you and you’re my best friend.”

“What did you say when she said that?”

“I didn’t get a chance to say anything because she kissed me.”

“I should kick her ass.”

He laughs, breathing a sigh of relief at your sarcastic tone. “No! No ass beating. Like you said…fuck her, right?”

As soon as you became freshman, that’s when the drastic changes happened. He stopped coming over to your house and hanging out with you at school. You used to sit together at lunch but you found yourself eating alone while he sat on the opposite end of the cafeteria with the popular kids.

You called his house and either no one picked up or his mom said he wasn’t home.

“I’m sorry, Leslie. He isn’t here.”, his dad’s gruff tone hits your ears.

“It’s Y/N and do you know where he is?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. No, I don’t. I think he went out with some girl from the cheerleading squad. Look, I really have to go. Can I take a message?”

You hung up the phone in frustration.

Your final straw was when he didn’t show up for your birthday. You and Steve had spent every year together on that day. Your parents would get a cake, order food, and you guys would stay up watching movies till you fell asleep. It had been weeks since you heard from him but you thought at least he would be here for this.

You pound on his door with your fist for what feels like forever until he finally answers. His hair is disheveled and his lips are stained with a nice shade of red lipstick.

“Y/N. Hey. I’m a bit preoccupied at the moment—”

“Where were you?!”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Steve, do you know what today is?”

He steps forward, quietly closing the front door behind him. “Y/N, I really can’t do this right now. Can we talk about this later—”

“WHEN?! When can we talk about it? You’re never home and you don’t answer my calls. I never see you at school and we don’t hang out anymore. When should we talk?!”

“I’m not going to apologize for being busy with school and living my life. I’m sorry we don’t spend as much time together but I made some new friends. It’s not just me and you anymore.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole. You really think these ‘friends’ give a damn about you? All they care about is your money and good looks!”

“You’re just jealous because I’m hanging out with the popular group and you’re not! You’re just a fucking poor, pathetic dork who has no friends other than me!”

Steve watched through your eyes as your heart broke. “Wow. Thank you for showing me who Steve Harrington really is. Happy Birthday to me, I guess.”

His eyes closed as he came to the realization of what today was. “Y/N, shit, I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean…I—”

“No. Don’t worry about it, Harrington. It’s all good.”

###############

It had been two years since then and you were both juniors now. Steve had steadily rose to the king of Hawkins high, becoming a jock and making all the ladies swoon. You flew under the radar as best you could with a 4.0 GPA and a style that everyone compared to Joan Jett. You both had basically become night and day.

He heard rumors about you but did nothing to dispel them.

“Does she think she’s cool wearing those ratty, torn up clothes and boots? Please. Probably hiding the fact that her family can barely afford to keep their house let alone some new clothes.”

“I heard she fucks boys under the bleachers if they give her $20 bucks. She’s cheap!”

“Oh my god. That’s most likely why she has all those As!”

The rumors you heard about him were a bit more factual and kept you up to date on what was going on in his life.

“Steve is taking out Tammie tonight. Five bucks he takes her to lover’s lake!”

“I heard he’s failing physics but the teacher passes him anyway so he can play basketball. Lucky bastard.”

“Steve Harrington is throwing a party at his house. His dad just made a killer deal so he’s flying his mom to Hawaii to celebrate. Empty house with a ton of booze!”

You did everything you could to avoid interactions with him and with your different social circles that wasn’t hard but some days you were thrown a curve ball. This morning happened to be one of those days. As you walked to your locker, you heard a loud crash next to you as Tommy leaned against them.

“Hey Y/N. How are you this beautiful morning?”

“I was having a great morning until you opened you mouth.”, you threw him a fake smile as you slammed your locker closed.

“Well, that’s not very nice.” His girlfriend Carol blocked your path to keep you from leaving. “Someone not have their morning coffee? Probably time to find some new clients to fuck so you can afford that.”

“Oh, they’ve escalated to clients now. The rumor mill continues to be amusing. Now, get out of my way.”

“Ah ah. We just wanted to talk to you and see how you were. This is no way to treat your friends.”

“You are not and will never be my friends.”, you glare at them.

“What’s going on?” Steve sauntered slowly up to his friends, his face contorting slightly when he sees you. “Tommy. Carol. Come on. We’re going to be late for class.”

“Better run along and do what your king says.”, you sneer at them.

He stops, slowly turning around as he snickers. “You know what? Maybe we should stay. I heard you guys when I came up. She definitely needs to be nice to you. It’s not like she has any other friends.”

“Kind of like a kid I used to know back in elementary school.” They all laugh, making faces like you said the stupidest thing they had ever heard…but not Steve. His breathing staggered at the memory of you befriending him when he had no one. “Leave me alone.”

He sighed, gripping Tommy’s arm and pushing him down the hallway.

##############

“Hey. You okay? I heard Steve Harrington tried to put you in your place today.”

You did actually have friends; they were just invisible to the popular kids. Carrie had become one of your closest but you could never bring yourself to tell her about your past with the boy in question. Honestly, it just hurt too much.

“I swear to God I hate this school.”, you mumble. “Yes, I’m okay and no he didn’t. Like he even could.”

She chuckles as she throws herself in the chair next to yours at your lunch table. “He’s having a party tonight. We should crash it.”

“That…is the worst idea you have ever had.”, you smile at her.

“Oh, come on! We’ve never gone to one and it’s not like we’ll see him. He’ll be too busy grinding on some cheerleader.”

“See, I don’t understand how that’s common knowledge but I’m the whore!”

She grins as she pulls you to her shoulder and rests her head on yours. “You are not a whore. You are beautiful, perfect, and one of my closest friends. Also, I heard that Andrew will be there.”

You both giggle, sitting like that together until you give in and finally agree.

########

It had been so long since you had been in Steve’s house. Not a whole lot had changed except for a few more expensive items you didn’t remember being there before. The bass was beating through the entire home as everyone danced and drank.

“Carrie, I think we made a mistake!”

“It’s party, Y/N! Have a drink and dance! I’ll be right back!” With that, she was gone. A heavy exhale escaped your lips as you went outside to find some peace and quiet. You grinned when you noticed the pool in the backyard, remembering the summers you and Steve spent in there.

“Steve! I can’t swim. I’m scared.” Your little voice shook as you stood on the steps in the water.

He effortlessly glides towards you before standing up and taking both your hands in his. “You have no reason to be afraid, Y/N. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.” He chuckles as you wrap your arms around his waist.

“Hey! It’s ok. Do you trust me?”

You look up into his big brown eyes as his smile shines confidently down at you.

“Of course.”

“Hey, Y/N! Carrie said you were around here somewhere.” Andrew grins as he comes up beside you.

“Did she? Because I have completely lost her.”

He laughs at your sass. “She said you were funny.”

“Hey Andrew.” Steve’s voice comes up from behind you.

“Sup, Harrington. Pretty good party you got going on here.” The boy grins as he takes a sip from the cup in his hand.

“Thanks, hey, do you mind if I talk with Y/N really quick?”

You were startled by his question. Wasn’t he just an asshole to you this morning? Is he going to be snarky again because you showed up to his house unannounced? Andrew nodded and backed away so you two could talk.

“Look, I know you fucking hate me but—”

“I don’t hate you. I would have to care to do that.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he sighs. “Yeah, okay, whatever. You’re a badass. Good for you. Now, listen to me. You need to stay away from him.”

“From Andrew? Why?”

“He has a reputation for being…rough.”

“Oh, good. Well, I have a reputation for being a slut so we’ll get along nicely.”

His eyes narrow down at your snarky tone. “Whether you are or not, doesn’t fucking matter to me. I don’t know you anymore but I know him. Trust me.”

“You’re right. You don’t know me anymore and I definitely don’t fucking trust you. You have no right to pretend like you care about me or my well-being, your highness!”

“Fine! Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You scoff at him as you turn and grab Andrew’s arm, leading him inside the house.

###################

You and Andrew found a corner in the living room that was quiet enough for you two to talk. Honestly, after a few minutes, you found yourself bored and zoning out. All he wanted to talk about was the baseball team and their stats.

“Wow, Andrew, as fascinating as this is, I have to go find Carrie now and head home.”

“What? No.”, he whines and you cringe at the sight.

“Yes, unfortunately, it is late so…”

Abruptly, his hand wraps around your bicep as you start to stand and he pulls you back down towards the sofa you had been sitting on.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s not play games here. You don’t have to go home yet. I think you just don’t care about this kind of foreplay.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You know, the whole get to know you thing. I can respect that.” His body starts to press against you, leaning you back against the cushions.

“Andrew, no.” You try to push him with your palm but he swats it away.

“You don’t have to pretend with me. I know what you’re into. I can even pay you double whatever you normally charge.” Andrew’s lips find their way to your neck and with all the strength you can muster, you lift your leg and kick him in the groin.

He howls in pain as you push him off of you. “You’re disgusting!”

As you start to run away from him, he chases after you, grabbing your arm again to turn you around and slap you hard across the face.

Suddenly forceful hands are pulling his off of you and pushing Andrew backwards.

“Get out of my house.” Steve’s voice bellows well over the music causing some heads to turn towards him.

“That bitch started it!”

“And I’m finishing it. Now if I have to say it again it won’t be nicely. Get. Out.”

Andrew grumbles something under his breath as he stomps out the front door. Steve grabs your hand, pulling you up the stairs, and into his closed off bedroom. As soon as the door shuts, his hands cup your cheeks as he looks over your face.

“Are you okay?” You were still in a state of shock as your eyes scanned around his room. “Focus, Y/N! Look at me. Are you okay?”

You broke as your head fell into his chest and you cried. He stumbled back at first, completely thrown off guard before his arms slowly wrapped around you, holding you to him. Steve closed his eyes and sighed when he felt your hands shaking against his back.

“Everything’s okay. He’s gone. You’re safe here.”, he whispers.

“Am I?” Something ignites inside of you as you push him away from you. “You don’t give a damn about me, Harrington and don’t pretend like you do just because you played hero!”

“Hey, I warned you he was an asshole! But no, still as fucking stubborn as ever. You’re lucky I was in the house!”

“Fuck you! I could have handled it!”

“I can’t believe this. You’re actually upset with me right now for helping you!”

“No, I’m upset because I’m in this fucking house talking to you!”

As he prepares to fire back, your chin falls to your chest. Your shoulders shake as you cry again.

Steve hates seeing you like this and it makes him feel even more protective.

“Do you…do you want me to find your friend so she can take you home?”

You wipe your eyes before meeting his. “No, I’ll just, um, walk. It’s not a big deal.”

“Y/N, please, at least let me drive you.”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t want you to leave your guests.” You fly past him to open the door. “Thank you for what you did. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

##############

“Steve! Oh my god!” Your mom excitedly wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug. “It’s been so long. How have you been?”

“I’ve been good. Thank you for asking.”, he grins. “Is Y/N here?”

“Yes, she is. Maybe you can help make her feel better. She been upstairs in her room all day. I’m about to go meet her dad at that little get together thing they are doing downtown. We invited her but”, she shrugs.

Steve holds the front door open for her as she leaves before heading up to your room. It’s only been two years but it still amazes him how your house looks the same. When he knocks on the door, your voice echoes through from the other side.

“Mom, I said I’m fine! Oh…” You pause when you see him in your doorway.

“Your mom let me in. I, um, came over to check on you after what happened.”

“Well, Harrington, thank you but like I said, I’m fine.”

“Please, Y/N. Don’t be so difficult. I’m trying here.”

You smile sarcastically as you turn towards him. “I’m sorry, sire. What’s difficult for you? The fact that you haven’t spoken to me in over two years or pretending like you care how I’m feeling?”

“First of all, YOU stopped speaking to ME.”

“Oh please! I lost you even before freshman year. Your only concern was that everyone liked you and thought you were cool!”

“Apparently so was yours! Don’t give me that look. I hear what people say. About how you open your legs for any man at the right price!”

“You’re still such a fucking asshole!”

“If I’m such an asshole than why did I pull Andrew off of you? Why did I follow you around that fucking party making sure you were okay because your stubborn ass didn’t want to heed my warning!? Why am I here right now?!”

“You followed me around?”

“Yes.”, he sighed as he placed his hands on his hips. “I know we don’t talk anymore but that doesn’t mean I want anything bad to happen to you.”

“Unless it’s your doing?” He looks at you completely confused. “Steve… you were the worst thing to ever happen to me. No one has ever hurt me the way you did. Even before that you were slowly slipping away and there was nothing I could do. I miss the kid I grew up with. I don’t know who the fuck you are now.”

“Y/N…I”, he pauses as he tries to gather his thoughts. “I’m not the same shy, weird kid you met in the jungle gym in kindergarten. I have a life and more friends, things like that. I changed. It happens.”

“Welp, thank you for that rousing speech.”

“I swear to fucking God!”, he growls as he walks over to you till his face is close to yours. “You’re so—”

“Fucking stubborn. I know! Now get out of my house and leave me alone!”

“Make me.” Steve’s tone was low, revibrating through his chest.

It had been so long since you had seen him especially this close to you. You took note of the light stubble that dusted along his jawline and above his lip. His lips themselves had plumped out a bit more since middle school and his eyes had aged in the way a mans would when they leave adolescence. Growing up, you two had been relatively the same height but right now he towered significantly above you. He was right; he definitely wasn’t the same kid you had met.

While you were studying him, he was also scanning over you. Your eyes were angry but he could still see the kindness within them that befriend him. You smelled like you had just recently took a shower as the strong floral scent filled his nostrils. Your lips were fuller even now as they pouted out. He would give anything to see you smile again.

Steve’s hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck to bring your mouth to his. It was light at first, both your lips just pressed together but as he started to pull away you quickly grabbed his face with your hands tugging him back to you.

Passion took over reason as he walked you towards your bed. As soon as the back of your knees hit the mattress, you pause to lift up his shirt before tugging away at your own. Steve’s lips trail down your cheek to your neck as he fumbles with his belt.

You rapidly remove your pants as his own fall to the floor with a loud clank. He picks you up, holding you by your thighs as he carefully places you down on the mattress.

After removing his boxers, he reaches for your panties, violently pulling them down your legs and tossing them to the floor.

“Steve, Steve. Hang on.”, you pant. He doesn’t acknowledge you, grinding his hips with yours. You moan when you feel his cock rub against your pussy lips.

“Steve. I just want…need you to know. Those rumors aren’t true. I’ve only been with one other person.”

His eyes lock with yours as he spits in his hand and rubs it into your cunt making you moan. He grips his length and watches your face as he guides it into your entrance. Steve doesn’t give you much time to adjust to him as he pushes deeper into you before pulling out and pressing into you again.

“Fuck. Oh my god.”, you whimpered at the feeling.

“Jesus fucking Christ”, he whispers as his head falls back into the nook of your neck. “You’re so fucking tight.”

He thrusts into you at a steady pace as you pressed him closer to you. You knew you missed him but feeling him against you like this fully reminded you how much. All the memories you two had shared came flooding back and it broke your heart all over again. You needed to push those memories as far away as you could. They hurt too much.

“Harder, Steve. Please.”

Again, there was no acknowledgement from him besides him doing as you asked. You fingers clung to his hair as he sucked on your neck. The sound of skin slapping together filled the room and you craned your neck to the side to find his lips.

Steve obliged and you mewled at the taste of him. When your hands reached up to hold his shoulders, he pulled away, staring down at you as he felt your pussy tighten around him. He thought to himself how beautiful you were underneath him like this. He really did miss you but… what would the other kids say? When his dad was being a dick he used to run to you but now with his status he had more friends and vices he can utilize to numb that pain.

In his house he was nothing but in school he was a king. People practically worshipped him. So what, he had to pretend to like things he didn’t or act like an asshole at times to get what he needed. They were his family now.

“Why are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding!”

“I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Steve pushed back memories of his own as his rhythm picked up, thrusting into you till you came moaning his name repeatedly. His cheek pressed against yours as he chased his own release. The sound of him grunting filled your ears until he hastily pulled out, pumping his cock over your stomach until ropes of his seed landed on your skin.

His forehead fell on yours as his arm came back up on his side to steady himself. You both panted into each other’s face, trying to catch your breath.

“Steve. Look at me.”, you whispered. His brown eyes found your own and he let out a pleasurable sigh when your hand caressed his cheek. “Don’t go. Not yet.”

He silently nodded, reaching towards your bedside table to grab a tissue before cleaning your tummy and tossing it into the wastebin. Steve rolled onto his back, staring up at your ceiling.

“Y/N?”, his small hands knock on your door as he pushes it open. “You weren’t in class today and Mrs. Link said you were sick. I wanted to make sure you were ok.”

Your back was to him as you lay quietly in your bed. He shuffles around to the opposite side as you bury your face in your pillow.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Steve kicks off his sneakers and lays down beside you. As he pushes your shoulder back, he notices the tears that were streaming down your face.

“Tommy told all the sixth graders that I’m ugly trash.”

His nostrils flared in anger. “I’m going to kick his ass next time I see him!” He suddenly panics as you start to cry again. “Y/N, you aren’t trash and you’re not ugly. I think you’re…you’re one of the prettiest girls I have ever met.”

Steve breathes a sigh of relief when he sees you laugh. “Thank you. I appreciate you saying that.”

“I mean it! You’re pretty like the girl in that space movie we saw at the theater. With the…” He makes twisting motions on the side of his head near his hair.”

“Leia?”, you giggle.

“Yeah! Princess Leia.” He smiles as you start to brighten up.

“Thank you for coming over to check on me.”

“Of course. You’re my best friend.”

Steve turned his head to look at you and noticed your back was facing him. Your breathing was steady so he figured you had fallen asleep. As he picked up the covers to get out of bed and grab his clothes, something possessed him to change his mind. Instead of pulling them off, he tugged the sheets further over his waist as he slid his body closer to you. His arm wrapped around yours as he tenderly kissed your shoulder, falling asleep beside you.

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threadsdemiseif · 22 days

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Made by @sapphirestones09

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS AUSGHSJSGDKSHSI

CRYING SHITTING SOBBING

TYSM FOR THE FANFIC, I AM FLOORED

Note: It took an embarrassingly long time to find the submission post. Cons of being tech averse. First fanfic? Yey? English isn’t exactly my first language, and some sentences may sound weird and also punctuations are my enemy. Was supposed to be just a drabble, just a take on the “The Incident” nothing too fancy. It was supposed to be straightforward and simple but then 2.7k words.

During this time the story didn’t even start and there are a lot of details that I may have missed, and plot points are not addressed directly. The fic maybe embarrassingly incorrect when it comes to the events and the interpretation of characters. I know…but I did it anyway.

This is just purely written with no certain Doctor MC in mind but gained inspiration by asking myself “What would a psychopath in “love” do in this situation?”

***

You have never been a romantic.

Although there are times that you convinced yourself you are.

People describe romance and love with words that when put together only sounded like ancient language to you. Foreign. Alien. You drowned yourself in poetry, art, songs, movies, books, you consumed all kinds of media you can get your filthy hands on that emphasizes that kind of ideas, all that work and yet the concept remained an enigma to you. Try as you might it seemed like there is a buffer in your brain causing the words to become static and incomprehensible. Like wisps of smoke and childhood bubbles that pass through your hands when you try to catch it.

People seemed to revolve themselves around it though, becoming the center of their worlds. You? You only saw yourself as an outsider when it comes to this subject. You witness the people you tolerate spinning themselves dizzy around it until they collapse, vomit, and destroy themselves in the process.

You like that. Not romance no, you like the aftermath of it. The chaos left in its wake that you can’t help but marvel. You are curious, intrigued, determined to understand the nature of it and see if you can truly bend it to your will.

How odd your interests are…

And so your experiments began, you engaged yourself for a time. The people around you were more than happy to, it’s a wonder how humans quickly drop to their knees at the sight of a pretty face. Never quite understanding the kind of wretchedness hidden beneath. You instantly learned the system, a smile there, a touch there, a wink, a reassurance, a kiss, a bite, and they are wrapped around your pretty finger.

It quickly got boring. Frustration building inside you. All this time and you still don’t understand it. Everyone says its fun, fulfilling, gratifying in a way that resembles the feeling of jumping from a skyscraper. It overcomes all types of high that you can get from pills and drugs. It’s exhilarating. Maddeningly so.

You want that. That type of feeling. You want to understand it and judge it. If it was truly as amazing as they said it is. If it was worth the wars that waged for it. The lives lost in the name of it.

You want to know the ruin. The hurt. The despair. The madness.

But alas, monsters can’t love, can they?

If that is so, then what is it that you are feeling now?

Why is it that when you look up to their face marred with insanity and tears, do you feel that your heart skip a beat. They look good with hate twisting their soft and gentle features. They look so adorable as their eyes become wet and red with tears and blood. They look so delightful when they sob and growl as they continue to bash your kneecaps.

You are supposed to be feeling pain.

There is a theory you read that when humans experience so much pain beyond their limits of tolerance the person does not feel it. Stimuli overriding the nerves and senses that the person just becomes so numb to it.

Maybe you crossed the threshold of it already as you just feel the lightheaded.

Does the theory even apply to you?

Afterall, you never even thought of yourself as one of them. You could always look beautiful enough. You could always mimic their behavior to the best. You could replicate the twinkle in their eyes and yet. There is always something wrong with you.

You’re only a mess of organs. A casket made of flesh. A jumble of limbs. All to contain nothing but raging madness. You feel it sometimes. Licking the part of your brain and whispers, tickling you with thoughts so vile you can’t even understand it half the time. But sometimes it screams and during those moments you contemplate bashing your head on a rock and watch as blood and brain viscera scatter like red fireworks.

But you don’t feel the madness right now. Pleasant numbness coating you in warmth and comfort.

You can’t really remember what happened that lead to this situation. Them above you, ramming a steel chair on your lower half. Did you even fight back? Did you injure them? Did you curse at them first or did they?

No, you don’t want to think about that, you just want to revel in this moment on how they look so lovely covered in your blood. Yours.

How beautifully tortured they look right now.

So beautiful as they look broken, so so broken by your hands.

You stare at them determined to commit the image to your memory. You will your synapses to work, embedding them to a part of your mind that not even the sickness would touch it.

They were supposed to be another pretty thing to play with. They were so cute and foolish enough to be swayed by your words and touch. Just like the rest, it was so so easy.

And yet here you are underneath them on the cold hard floor covered with your warm blood. Instead of defeat or rage, it is ecstasy that fills you. A sense of pride swells inside. This feeling so exhilarating, gratifying, making you giddy with the excitement.

Is this the love the people spoke about? Then you can understand it now, like puzzle pieces placing themselves until a sense of completion fills you.

You never felt like this before. So whole. So full.

For a moment you are not broken. You are not insane. You are not a disgusting mimicry of everything that is wrong with the world.

You want more. You need more. More...more…

More of what?

More of them.

Of their hate, their ruthlessness, their violence, their cruelty.

Give them all to me, Deziree…

I’ll take it all.

Give me everything that is wrong with you and I’ll kiss it, cherish it, nurture it.

Thank you for existing Deziree, now I don’t have to be alone.

Now, I have someone I can drag with me to the pits of hell.

A siren blares in the background. Shouts of composed terror echo outside. Loud enough to pierce through the cloud of your deliriousness. It seemed to have the same effect to Deziree too as their eyes began to shine with clarity. Horror, regret, disgust, quickly replacing the ferocity of their wrath.

No!

You will not this moment to be over yet! For the first time you felt your heart soar, you felt complete, a sense of belongingness together with them. You can’t let it be over so soon! You simply can’t.

Along with the clarity, the madness began to whisper again. Its tendrils crawling their way to consume any resemblance of sanity left from the previous moment. It offers a way to make the most out of the moment. A way to bind both of you for life. A perfect ending for this absolute freak show.

Your stomach tightens pleasantly. You felt your spine shiver in excitement. Electricity tingles down to your- oh you can’t feel your toes anymore. Nevermind.

Mustering up your strength, your bloodied hands reached over to their face.

Eyes on me.

Only me.

Their attention is now back to you. And you feel complete again.

Oh, how far have you fallen?

You give them a weak smile to which they reciprocate with a blank stare. Mind racing, rationalizing what just happened, remembering the moments that lead them here. Just how did things get this bad? The ever loving Deziree…

You can see them shivering, are they cold? You were the one who’s meant to be cold, considering the blood loss, you are certain you’re going to die if left to your own devices. Well, if that will be the end, why not have some fun.

Your hand slides down to their arms. Their muscles underneath taut with tension and through the stormy expression you can see as clear as day the gradient of emotions. Madness, rage, confusion, love, tenderness, all hues of suffering flicking from one to another. You could sit here all day and watch them in reverence.

They have never been more beautiful as they are now.

Your hands connect with theirs, your smile widening even bigger as your fingers intertwine. You’d be blushing like a fair maiden if it wasn’t for all blood gushing out of you. If your head would have been any clearer, you would question the absurdity of the situation, but its not. It’s filled with chemicals actively trying to keep you alive. The kind that makes you high in glee.

You would also have half the mind to check your own condition being on the brink of death. And you would remedy that immediately. You’re far too smart to be killed aren’t you?

But not this time.

There is nothing as important as you and him in this little corner of the world you marked with red.

His eyes track your movement with the accuracy of a hawk. Then finally, you place his hand around your throat. You’re now a willing prey, baring their most vulnerable to a bloodthirsty predator.

There was no need to wait, their hands immediately applied pressure on your neck. Their fingers that previously held warmth and care now ice cold and harsh. It squeezes your carotid veins, blocking your air until you feel yourself turn blue in seconds if it wasn’t for the blood loss. They grit their teeth even more as a small moan spilled from your lips. Did he take it as a sign of pleasure or pain? You would lick your lips if he could, but you could only manage a pained smile.

“Disgusting. Evil. Vile. Why?! I loved you! I trusted you! And you used me! Ruined me!” they sob.

There were no thoughts in your head. Not a whisper of regret or remorse. You are only staring at him, pupils blown at how beautiful he is under the alternating blues and reds from the window. You now choke and as survival instinct begins to kick in and you thrash. You dig your fingers into their wrists in an attempt to let you go.

You know this is futile and this can cause even more damage to your neck than it already has. But still your body moves in self-preservation. Your mind and body disagreeing in the most beautiful way. You are dying no doubt about that, but by the Gods do you feel so alive.

You feel the precious air being taken away from you. Your blood rushing to your head. Your life slipping away at their hands. It makes you appreciate these little things when you are on death’s door.

Your body begs them to stop, trying to pry away their hands, to push them away from you. You feel the heat of them against you. Your body screams for mercy. But you don’t and you will never want that now, don’t you?

Please don’t let go.

Please hold me.

Please kill me.

“You deserve this. I did nothing wrong! The world will be better without you. I hope you burn in hell,” they spat.

You wheeze as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. The lack of oxygen and blood finally hitting you as you feel your consciousness ebb away.

A bang echoed the walls of the room from the door opening harshly, footsteps and harsh voices goes in. The weight on top of you was then pulled away, you whimpered at the loss. Practiced and efficient hands began to land on you to check on your condition and at the edge of your vision, see that they had restrained Deziree a few feet away from you.

Face planted on the red floor as they thrash against the restraints of police, their voice panicked but their bloodlust evident from the string of curses they release in your direction. The officers are successful in putting them in their place.

You are promptly carried away. The paramedics dons a concerned expression as they talk ensuring to keep your consciousness awake. You close your eyes only replying in tired hums. You don’t have to look at yourself to see that you’re all levels of bad for seasoned healers to panic.

And even though you can’t see, you feel the people’s righteous fury and sympathy for you like water. From the officers to your neighbors who watches from the sidelines parched and in need of some new gossip to talk about. You can already pinpoint their thoughts, their sadness, relief, worry at how such a young thing was already subjected to the cruelty of such a harsh world.

The human mind is truly such a wonder. People will determine who received the most injury, who is more sympathetic, unnecessary details that help them fuel their own beliefs. Twisting it to suit their own narratives. You can hear them talk words that will end up being printed by tomorrow’s newspaper. And that made you sneer in amusement inwardly.

Because they have never been so wrong than equate you to a pitiful little victim.

It was a good thing the old lady next door was fond of gossips. You made a show of yourself spilling your relationship problems acting all teary and vulnerable, not-so-subtly hinting that you may be in possible danger. So, when the crash and fight started you were sure they were the one who called the police on time.

The strangling part was seriously a last-minute plan, the blood loss making you all loopy and droopy. The police force has body cameras attached to them. Meaning that they have caught Deziree strangling a person on camera. A person who in addition, mutilated your legs you might need it amputated and end up a cripple for the rest of your life.

You shrug. You’re plenty resourceful. You can imagine the opportunity it presents.

Mutilation, strangulation, and the other deeds of Deziree will be revealed in the court. Even if they plead not guilty, the evidence will stack upon them one by one, drowning in proof that you orchestrated like an elaborate game of chess. There is such a thing we call as falsified truths.

Deziree will be hated, scrutinized, their entire being skinned and every part of him will be laid bare for others to see and judge. You mentally calculate and figured they’re going to prison for 10 years give or take. 10 years of living in hell that you personally decorated.

You can taste their pain already. Their expression falling at the verdict of the judge. People cursing their name both inside and outside the bars. And even when they are alone, they’ll never be rid of you. Making sure that their thoughts will always be haunted by the image of you. You only you. What a pretty mental cage you put them in.

There was no regret or remorse as you allowed yourself to smile.

Not one of pleasure nor pain.

It is simply a smile of victory.

Deziree came close, but it’s not enough. They’ll have to become stronger, smarter, better. You needed a drive, you needed them to improve to beat the game you have designed. They might go to prison but you’re far too smart from thinking this is all over. They’ll come back, you know they would.

You inflicted just the right amount of pain for them to persevere. Not too much that they would give up and think that this is all pointless. Not too little that they won’t grow from this. Every factor of this event, taken into account into your pretty little head, all for what?

For an elaborate game of course.

A game that will not begin until later. But you don’t worry, after all patience is truly a virtue especially in this sense. Even though you’re already achingly awaiting the moment.

The cards are dealt, the stakes are ready, and the table is prepared for all the players that will be involved.

You’re already buzzing with excitement. You wonder what they will become. What kind of monster have you created? What kind of chaos and destruction will they bring? How much will be left of you when they’re done? Or will there be any left?

How you long to see it already.

Them in their full potential to end you.

Ah, see, you can be a romantic after all.

#submission #thread's demise #li : deziree #Myrr Answers #the doctor #interactive fiction #if game #if wip #FANFIC

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mable-stitchpunk · 5 days

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sorry if this has been asked before, but do you have any particular voice claims for the Home series?

Yes, I actually do have a few! Anyone I don't mention doesn't have a voice claim.

Mike:

The story about Mike's voice is kinda funny. A couple of months after I began the fic, I think? The original Final Nights came out- you know, the game where Mike gets chased around by the Puppet- and I LOVED his voice.

That sort of rough but sardonic edge. It was perfect! ^_^ So, I always imagined Mike's voice as sounding like that!

Alas, when the Final Nights Redux came out, the voice was changed. Instead sounding a lot younger. XD >.< Needless to say, I didn't update Mike's voice to the redux version. I always imagine him with that deeper, rougher edge.

Marionette:

After some back and forth, Mari's voice claim became Elijah Wood. I've liked a lot of his stuff, but I'm a huge fan of 9 and that softer sort of voice definitely works for him.

Though Mari does have a slight English accent, like his father and sister- it's not strong, but there's the edge of it.

I have a clip of an Elijah Wood character saying, "My father died today," and laughing like a maniac that I use as a reference. XD

Chance:

Chance's voice claim/character inspiration was based quite a bit off of John Mahoney. If you're a Fraiser fan, he played Martin Crane. I am, in fact, a big Fraiser fan, which is why-

James Wight:

's claim is Kelsey Grammar. Known for Fraiser, better known as Sideshow Bob, lol.

Ennard:

Ennard doesn't have a voice claim, per say, but over the course of the series his voice has become a little less shrill. This seems like a minor thing, but it's a mix of him not remember Funtime Freddy's voice dead-on and him having to tone it down a little. It does still sound close enough to Sun's to be of note.

Elizabeth Afton:

Circus Baby's 'human' voice, which we've only heard maybe once or twice, was inspired by Susie Brann, who did Alice's voice for American Mcgee's Alice and Madness Returns. Big fan of both those games and it felt like the perfect fit.

Jake:

Jake initially had his own sort of voice, but ever since Ruin came out, I kinda imagine him sounding like Eclipse. It makes sense considering that he really IS Eclipse, in a weird ironic way. Since he and Andrew spent so long together, it would make sense for them to end up with similar sounding voices considering how much is projection.

If I remember any more, I shall post them!

#Mike Schmidt #Marionette #The Puppet #Chance #Chauncey Evans #James Wight #Ennard #Elizabeth Afton #Circus Baby #Jake #Eclipse #Home Series #voice claims #CGHA #AFLH #GHIAB

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olderthannetfic · 9 months

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Hi there! I hope you're having a nice day.

Little bit of a rant and a bid for advice, if you or your readers have any. I hope that's alright.

I'm currently writing a fic or maybe multiple fics (plot bunnies be running rampant in me brains) about a rarepair of two guys. I'm a bi woman and have basically zero social skills, so in order to properly understand other people's body language, I like to look up guides or articles about body language between two people, although I know those things are full of bullshit and don't mean anything, and it's hard to find articles for example about whether another woman's body language indicates interest in you if you're a woman yourself, but eh, they're still better than my brain which is usually like "eh, could mean this or that or this or that or this or that or- basically could be anything, I wouldn't know that lol, now I'm tired and will shut off, bye" aka useless as well.

The results I've found have been absolutely useless. I like writing characters in a slightly plausible-sounding way, so I like incorporating body language as in acting choices or subconscious body language (or whatever a proper term might be) in my writing to make it sound more in-character. So for stuff like this, I usually just think "ok what is that person's expression and if I do it, what would that indicate me to be feeling currently", and I don't know if other people do that or if that's just me being bad with social stuff and intuition about it again, and if I should really try to get re-evaluated for autism which I have been advised to think about doing multiple times in multiple direct and indirect implicative ways such as people being like "hey btw are you autistic? no? you sure?" or "I know you got a negative diagnosis as a kid, but maybe that was wrong and you might wanna do it again because of all your social struggles and sensory stuff etc.", heh. (Have been diagnosed with ADHD though, so that might also just be it.)

Sorry for the rambling. English isn't my first language, so if anything sounds strange, that's to blame.

My question or rather bid for advice is: I am wondering if you or your readers might have any advice on where to find resources for reading body language and romantic or sexual implications in body language between two parties, in this case between two guys.

(Hopefully this is not too nonsensical or insensitive or something like that because that's not my intention. I just really don't know how to human or if there actually is some difference on how different people of different genders flirt consciously or subconsciously or if that's some weird unnoticed transphobic bio-essentialism shit that I hadn't yet noticed and sorted out of my head because I don't want to be transphobic since that sucks.)

Weeell...

If people have links to guides, that's great, but I do think that in the context of fanfic, people often write flirting that they find sexy or they write whatever the canon style of interaction is and recontextualize it as how these particular guys flirt.

They're not usually thinking "What does flirting look like in general?" and then having the characters behave in a new way.

A lot of our interpretation of body language in written fiction has to do with information we get from the POV character about how they're feeling internally. For the non-POV character, we may have the POV character's thoughts on what the body language means, but we're generally interpreting it based on media cliches and based on knowing this is a ship fic.

So the other dude acts like he doesn't like our POV dude and the POV dude is like "Alas, my pining is unrequited!" and the audience goes "Ooooh, it's one of those fics!"

If the goal is writing certain types of fic, you may not need a guide to How People Really Act as much as one to How Fans Interpret Such and Such a Behavior from Canon as Subtext.

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kangamommynow · 6 months

Text

It's been a day

Nothing major. Just small accumulating annoyances. Being tired and too warm (it got to nearly 80 degrees today, which is insane). Trying to channel the wildness of 10 year olds.

at one point I put my head down on my table and my group was concerned. "I don't feel like you are hearing anything I'm trying to teach" "I'm listening to you" "But you are also watching X and talking to your neighbor and spinning on the stool, so if you are listening it is with the 'yes I hear you' and not with the 'I'm trying to understand you'".

I have a new kiddo in my reading group. His reading is very, very low, but not because of disability. He is a refugee, an immigrant. His reading is low because he just doesn't know much English yet. My other students have the benefit that they know English letter sounds and he doesn't. His brain has to work a lot harder. He'll get there, but it's so freaking hard for him. He has ESL services, but that's not nearly enough.

We have another student who is moving away at the end of the week and I have to admit I'm glad. The class will be so much calmer without her drama. So much drama. She spends most of her time flitting from one person to another spreading rumors and stirring up trouble and provoking other people and frankly it's on everyone's last nerve. When my student M gets in a fight, it's almost always involving this girl either directly or indirectly. She is also the primary bully of one of my other students. So. I'm glad she will be gone.

After school I took J over to REI to try to find travel clothes for the cruise. We found some pants, shirts, and socks for him, and a few shirts for me. Alas, despite all my hunting, not a damn pair of pants in my size anywhere in the store. Yes, I'm short. That doesn't mean I'm tiny. They had petite sizes 0-8 and regular sizes (much too long) 10-16, but not a 14 or 16 petite to be found. So I had to order on Amazon and pray that something fits. I fucking hate clothes shopping. It's the most dispiriting activity. Especially when you know precisely what it is you need and it just doesn't seem to exist.

They are moving our school to a late start, mostly due to bus issues. We are nearly 7 weeks into school and we still have busses running 1-2 hours behind because they just can't get enough drivers. Many of the drivers were retirees and they all left with Covid. It's a sucky job with weird ass hours and rambunctious, often disrespectful kids and I wouldn't want to do it either. So they are shifting our start/end time to try to accommodate that. God knows what they are going to do as more and more teachers leave. Squish more kids in a classroom and pretend more testing will solve the problem, I assume.

I'm cranky, obviously. I am too warm, too sore, and I miss my ... whatever he is. My guy. The person I'm attached to. It's just . sigh.

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marvelousmop · 8 months

Text

You Should Watch "Hamlet in Rock"

One odd musical I really like to talk about and expose to people is "Hamlet in Rock" - a Rock Opera adaptation of Shakespeare's Hamlet, made in Germany but sung in English with lyrics ripped straight from the play (but shuffled around a bit so it fits the conventions of a song, i.e. having a chorus).

You can watch it here (or alternatively there's this version which includes explanatory cards between scenes if you're a bit lost on what the plot is), the whole thing is just delightfully hammy (no pun intended). You're not going to get a good performance of Hamlet, but you will get a fun one featuring some good rock songs (though sometimes quite odd musically if you're familiar with how the characters are meant to sound) and the most bizarre costumes and props you could get for a production of Hamlet.

Seriously, look at our boy Hamlet, he looks like he just got done with his day job as a Kingdom Hearts villain. The glass sword he's seen wielding later in the play doesn't help matters.

Here are some more weird fun things from this version of Hamlet that I just want to list off (mild spoilers below the cut).

Here are some more examples of bizarre costuming in this production:

And the piece de resistance:

They make these guys (the theatre troupe) stand still in these poses for a whole song, by the way, it's great. You can tell by the end that the one in the front really regretted choosing a pose where he had to keep smiling with his arm up for 3 minutes.

As alluded to earlier, a lot of the songs in here seem like the composers didn't quite know the meaning of some of the less important-seeming words that inform tone (which is understandable given most of the people here are German). Examples include:

"Taken to Wife" with lyrics about Claudius marrying Gertrude, but sung like a power metal ballad for some reason

Polonius in general gets an oddly intense performance considering he's meant to be an old man who talks a bit too much (this is more of a problem in the earlier song "I Do Not Know")

There's of course the inevitable slightly tonedeaf "To Be or Not to Be" song which I'll cut them some slack for since that monologue is hard to nail

"You're Sister's Drowned" makes the unfortunate choice to make the chorus "Your Sister's Drowned! Alas then, she is drowned. x2"... Granted, I'm not sure what other phrase you could repeat as a chorus in that scene, but it's not exactly the most poignant exchange the Bard wrote, and definitely not one worth repeating three times.

Finally, there's nothing actually wrong with this bit, I just think the way he says "Murder" is funny:

#Hamlet #Hamlet in Rock #Shakespeare #Musicals #Rock Opera #mop's inane ramblings

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beevean · 7 months

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CoD has dialogues fitting of a hammy theater play and given all the other stuff in the game that's extra hammy, like St.Germain, Hector's spells, some of the stuff you can craft and everything about Isaac, I'm guessing it was intentional.

Especially since you can see similar examples of humor in some of IGA's other games, like Bloodstained

It's just funny because LoI does not sound like that at all :P the lines are perfectly modern English with no quirks. You'd think that a game set at the end of the 11th century would sound a little more... medieval? Instead it's CoD that has lines like "But in the end, the glorious vengeance you seek will not be yours - t'will be mine!", "Be he your friend or foe?", "Alas, he cannot" lmao

My theory is that... well, LoI's dub is pretty meh, right? Everyone has this weird, stilted intonation which was common for games in 2003. Except for Crispin Freeman, who as Mathias steals the whole show in one cutscene just to say "wife died, me mad at god >:(" in the most overdramatic way possible. So Konami was like "yo what if we hire this dude again, and this time he voices the protagonist so he gets to ham it up to his heart's content. also what if everyone speaks this way. while we're at it let's hire liam o'brien as well, just have him speak in gay. we'll have a 10/10 on our hands boys"

I really love how CoD wants to be serious and dark and stuff, but it goes so over the top with designs, voice acting, chairs, weapons, etc. :P it reminds me of the Yakuza games, that combine the most heartwrenching plots with shenanigans like the sidestories or Majima's antics.

#castlevania #curse of darkness #btw in japanese it's perfectly fine #so it was absolutely the english adaptation that hammed it up #akumajou dracula

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struggle-but-its-all-ocean-floor · 4 months

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Since their next album seems to be the hyyh 10 year anniversary, do you foresee them returning to, maybe even finishing off, the bts universe story in a music video for that album? They'll probably have a lot more eyes on them than previous releases, which might make a mv following that storyline alienating to some new viewers, but also a mv ala I need you, particularly the extended version, tells enough of a story to not confuse people. I also think that kind of narrative and choreo-less mv might be a pleasant surprise to people that only know bts from their English trilogy. On the other hand, I expect them to do something powerful enough that they can do a performance like On with it for at least one of their releases. And then there's me thinking that, now that half of them are in their 30s and post-ms, they might do something explicitly sexy. They said (I think it was either namjoon or yoongi) that they're basically coming to devour in 2025, and there are so many ways I can see them doing that. The only thing I'm pretty sure of is that they'll want to put some distance thematically between the English trilogy and the new releases. Since it's also hyyh, maybe something closer to their sound then or earlier? Do you have any thoughts?

I really love your enthusiasm and a million apologies that I took ages to reply to you, but I'm about to confess to the top 5 opinions I have that might get my Army card revoked:

I don't care about the BU at all and am glad BTS don't really go there anymore. I like MVs with stories, but BTS playing characters and writing songs and albums around their own fictional universe, is so weird to me, I don't get it. I do not get kpop lore, sorry.

That said, I thought the HYYH 10th year anniversary thing was just another crash grab. They'll re-release the albums with some special content, maybe, and maybe there will be an exhibition, a fan event, a documentary, as well as merch, another book? Perhaps we'll get an old demo, or some unseen footage. I think only Jin and Hobi will be around for the anniversary (on April 15th apparently). I don't know if Hybe will wait for all members to be discharged to do something bigger. There might a concert? But I'm not really expecting a lot of involvement from BTS. This will be something created for the fans by Hybe imo. But my opinions are often wrong.

I see the HYYH 2025 album as a repackage album of sorts. Their next real album will probably come out in late 2025. I have no idea what it will sound like. They might go for another comforting, yet happier, YTC-style song - a fan song - or pull an ON again. The fan song might be a pre-release followed by a powerful title track. BTS will want to comfort fans and also make a statement. I don't think it will sound that surprising. BTS always surprises a little, but that's just expected. Maybe I'm a pessimist, but BTS are consistent. Unlike you, I'm very sure they're going to go all out on choreo to show fans they still got it. And I'm not so certain they won't release an English single. I think they'll release a Korean album, but we can't rule out the possibility of another English song. Fans are much more opposed to the English trilogy than BTS are.

Thanks for the ask!! Sorry for the wait!!

#ask #bts #text #thanks for the ask!

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alidafirtup · 2 years

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stay with me, my blood, you don't need to run (frank castle)

▪️pairing: frank castle & castle!gn!reader –but more leaning to male reader really–dad!frank all the way man

▪️word count: longer than i thought this would turn out to be um,

▪️summary: reader is frank's oldest child. aged around 18-19ish just fresh outta highschool. reader thought frank's actually dead after the boat explosion in daredevil season two until they were taken by some bad guys and frank has to come get them

▪️warnings: angstttttt, violence, mentions of death, reader having The Big Sad™️, reader pointing a gun at frank, swear words, just overal angry, angry reader. bit ooc on frank probably idk man this is just brain vomit. notice the writing style jumping around and shit heh. this is my first time actually writing a full one shot story instead of my usual blurbs and ideas, be gentle bc i will cry. english is like, my 3rd language so mistakes and warnings i forgot to mention would be 100% my fault and please be careful

[gifs r mine, sorry they're ass lmaoo]

Having your father being who he was you should've know this day will come. Well, to be fair you're a bit surprised this didn't happen when you sat on the podium of the courtroom in the Frank Castle vs. The People of New York case trial. Everybody knows your name and face now because of what he did. And sooner or later will come men demand you to pay for what your father has done. A vicious never ending cycle of 'Eye for an eye' situation. Alas, you were too busy living inside your head to think about this moment.

It's no one's fault but those who pulled the trigger, really. You are only alive because you weren't there the day the massacre happened. Some stupid school thing you didn't even remember how important it was that you chose to go there instead of spending time going to the park with your family. It was also the day after your dad came home after being away serving for so long. Your mom thought it would be wonderful to go out on a picnic, it was a beautiful day outside too. Hell, even Uncle Billy was there. All you remember was the moment the school staff called you to the office to tell you what happened.

You were never even that close with your father to begin with, what with his time with the army and all. You didn't even know the man that well really, he was away all the time and when he's home his soul isn't home at all. They say war changes people. And he got that thousand yards stare people always joke around about. He never even bothered to make a small talk. It's like he'd rather to be in war than to be home with you. But then again Frank wasn't the man with many words anyway. All you know was that your dad proposed to your mom the next day he found out your mom was pregnant with you. That change little by little when your parents decided to have Lisa and Junior though, he started to come home more often than he used to. He also warmed up more and actually tried to talk to you here and there. Asking you how school was, which you always answer with a quiet "It's fine," or, "It's great." and the conversation dies there, et cetera, et cetera. You didn't really feel the need to talk or get to know him so you just... didn't bother either. You were fine with him being away, it's what you got for having a marine as a dad anyway.

Your baby siblings were different though, with them being a lot younger than you. They're always so excited. Every single time your dad's home it's like it's Christmas. Every single time. Their smiles and cheers light up the whole room like that evening star in the Princess and The Frog movie. You dad was like that evening star for them, they told you so one day.

"That's weird. The star's name is Evangeline. Does he look like an Evangeline to you? also it sounds like he's dead the way you two look at the stars while thinking about dad," you made a face at Lisa as she played with one of the many plastic dinosours she owned.

"Never say that again." Your mom sternly said as she puts down a plate of cookies on the floor. She had this look in her eyes that had you shut your mouth immediately.

Not a day, not a second that you're not thinking about your siblings. They were so young, too young. It's not fair. The world is so cruel, cold and so cruel. Oftentimes your twisted, selfish side wish you were there at the park with them just so it could spare you the pain. Everything happened too fast, you lost everything you had in just one day. Your family, your innocence, your future, your hope, everything just, gone, that day. Vanish. Poof. You might as well just lose your dad too with the way he was hanging on a thread the moment he woke up from his coma. You didn't even recognize the man anymore, he was just so... out of it. Memory fading in and out you had to help him fill in on what happened. But somehow he recognized you, even called you by your name. You didn't know if you should feel relieved by that or worried since the guy never really refer to you as anything other than "Kid" or "Buddy", in fact you didn't really know what to feel at those times what with every single feelings known being thrown at you like bricks. You visited him every day he was at the hospital nevertheless.

Every other day you would go to the park as well. You would sit on one of the benches in front of the carousel and just, think about everything that happened to you. Taking the time to feel sorry for yourself because shit, you were just a kid too. One night you lost track of time and actually sat until dawn. You didn't realize until the warmth of the sun hit your nose and you hear birds chirp their morning sonnet. You marvelled the way the sunlight hit the tip of the the carousel roof and all the painted ponies just right.

Only when your father decided to go on his killing spree quest did you really lost every thing then. Gunning down every single one who so much as sniffed on the idea of the carousel massacre. You see Frank as a complete stranger now. You were also too caught up in grief to call him out about how wrong his doings were. He's a marine, killing people is his job. Doesn't matter that the only difference is that the army is legal. You didn't care about that, those bastards deserves it anyway. They have to pay, every single one of them for taking your mom from you. She didn't even got the time to guide you through your life for fuck's sake.

Frank pulled himself away too, choosing to live in his van and away from you. You realize that it's not safe to live in your old home too so you moved in to a studio apartment which every now and then–as in, every few months– Frank would visit all bloody and battered when he got wounds that he can't fix himself and needed someone to do it for him. Like the one time he got shot in the ass and couldn't take the bullet out by himself.

"Dad, I don't know what I'm doing," you anxiously told him, one hand holding a pair of forceps.

"Look just take the goddamn bullet out and close the wound, alright," he gruffly demanded, leaning over the sink ass out and everything. Quite a night if you think so yourself.

And some nights are better than the other, sometimes worse, sometimes Frank would strut into your place barely alive, swaying left and right dripping blood everywhere that you had to call Uncle Curt as if he's your personal doctor. Well, he basically is now isn't he whether he likes it or not. Poor guy just needs his rest.

You also remember one night Frank showed up to your apartment with almost to no scratch on his skin at all, bringing some McD's and quipped "Y'should put some meat in those skinny arms of yours, kid." which you return with a pair of confused eyes and a snort.

Some days you wish these kinda nights would bring the two of you closer, you wish Frank would just sit down, just for a moment with you. Process what happened. To grieve for your family, or just think about them rather than their deaths tearing the two of you apart. You're all each other's got left afterall.

One fateful night Frank came over, face black and blue but he stood tall. Announcing you about the guy called "The Blacksmith" saying he's going after him, putting an end to this. You never know about the boat, you never asked. You don't think you want to know anything about what Frank has been doing every night.

The next morning you woke up with a "FRANK CASTLE DEAD: Escaped Vigilante Suspected Dead After Explosion" written in giant letters and a picture of an x-ray scan of a skull, Frank's skull. You never went out of bed the next 36 hours after you read the paper. You didn't even cry you just felt so...hollow. You never now how emptiness could ever feel so heavy.

Everything was going so fast sometimes you feel like you're in a timelapse documentation of your own life with you being the only one moving in slow motion. The trial, The Daredevil, your dad going to jail, your dad going out of jail, Wilson Fisk. Only time when time seems to slow down was when you're at the park in the middle of the night. And that's where you are right now.

You were sitting in front of the carousel when you feel something prick at the back of your neck. Your hand went up to touch your neck and you pull out some kind of...dart?

"That's not fair..." you feel yourself sway forward but before you fall on your face they were two men grabbing you and the last thing you see were them pulling you into a van.

You wake up to some guy pushing something up your nose that got you inhale sharply and coughing from the smell. You're strapped to a chair, wrists and ankles, great. Your eyes dart around the dim litted damp cold room, some kind of basement, you feel. "How original," you irked.

"We awake?" a guy goes to grab your chin, "Hi there," he chirps, you look him straight in the eye.

"Is this the part where I ask you who you are and what you want from me?" you challenge lazily.

"No," he honest to God giggled, "This is the part where I punch you in the face." he hissed as he does what he said. His knuckles meets your temple which soon is going to give you a not-so-aesthetic black eye. Sissy bitch. "Now you can ask me who am I and what I want from you– actually no why don't I save us both the time and energy, you pick one kid; who am I or what do I want from you."

But before you can even think of answering he says again, "Good choice!" his voice actually turn from annoying to aggravating. He should really pick a struggle. "I want your dad." Okay. You've had just about enough of his bullshit.

You actually let out a chuckle though, you can't lie that that was not a good joke, "Why don't you go suck my dick since you got me all tied up and unmoving you kinky piece of–" he awarded you with another punch to the nose this time, got it running blood from one nostril almost immediately, God, no wonder those soccer kids in your school says you're a nerd. Thank Christ school's over for good.

"That's homophobic." you breathe. "You know if you want my Da so much why don't you dug him up yourself? Mount Zion Cemetery, 6 feet under the ground where he lays. He's fucking dead you imbecilic bitch,"

The guy stares you down. You wonder what'll happen if you ask for his name since you're getting tired of calling him "This Guy" in your head. He calls for his men and gestures towards you with his chin.

You let out a dramatic sigh. "What's with you men and beating people up in groups to get the information you need? God, if that's not small dick energy i don't know what–" your words were left unfinished as a slap lands on your face.

"You wanna be as tough as your old man you're gonna wanna shut that hole in the middle of your face." he growled.

"Look," you heave after a shit ton of beatings later, you hate that you almost beg now, "I'm trying to tell you scumbags you've got the wrong kid, alright? My 'old man', he's dead."

"See, I thought that too. but he keeps coming back, you know, like a cockroach, but with guns."

You scoffed, panting slightly. One of your nostrils is clogged, thick blood running slowly down the other. God, does your sinuses burn.

"You watch the news lately kid?"

You spit, seeing droplets of crimson, chest expanded as you take a deep breath. "'Fuck you mean,"

Once again your words were just a trail off and apparently this guy's not the one to let people finish their sentences. He shoves a phone into your face, the screen showing a dashcam footage of man running into the hood of a car who happens to be...Frank. That's Frank. That's your dad in the footage. You feel your heart starts beating really fast. Okay...maybe this guy slaps you a bit too hard. Then again you wouldn't be here strapped to a chair getting beat to a pulp if the video isn't real.

◼◼◼

"How long you're going to do this again?"

"Curt." Frank warns.

"I can't lie anymore to the kid Frank do you know how many times I have to–"

"It's better this way you hear me? I can't lose the kid."

"Yeah, speaking of the kid–" Micro chimed in, interrupting what was soon to be a heated argument between the ex-soldiers. His eyes scan one of the many screen in the basement. The one that's set to the camera Frank sneaked into your room in one of his visits.

"Kid's should be home by now right?"

◼◼◼

You're woken up again by a hand harshly wiping the blood that drips out of your mouth with a towel. You received another dozens of beating after your reaction from watching the footage resulting in you passing out after a good punch to the nose. Damn, apparently it's a sin for not knowing what the hell is going on. You blink your eyes open almost lazily and catch a glimpse of a gun sitting nicely on the back pocket of your taker. You eye it for a moment before he cooes, "Oh, you want this? it's not gonna help you sweet cheeks," he said as he put his hand on the pistol briefly.

Suddenly you hear guns blazing outside of the room, you hear the alarmed almost scared tone in your taker's voice. "He's here," before he hurries to take a knife from his sleeve to cut off the ties that bound you to the chair, pulls you out of your feet and wraps his arm around your throat while his other arm went around his back to grab his gun and point it to your temple.

Frank kicks the door open, taking the other two goons of your taker with two clean headshots.

"Put your gun down or I'll french fry your little mini me's brains out."

"What–" you breathe, Frank shushes you, telling you it's alright, that you're okay.

The guy looks between the two of you and chuckles, "Oh, I remember what it's like being the firstborn, you parents don't give a shit enough about you that you basically raise yourself."

You've had enough of this guy's bullshit for real this time and a sudden wave of adrenaline gifted from everything that is happening right now got you slamming your heel to his foot hard and somehow grabbed his gun and kill him with two shots.

Then point the gun to Frank.

So turns out your dad is alive all this time and has been "watching over you" through cameras with some guy called Micro who also does the same thing to his family. That's how he knows your location. You couldn't believe this, You should've know all about this but you were so caught up in your head that something so mundane like someone setting up a camera around your house were went unnoticed by you. Unlike your dad technology was always your thing. You feel so sick you taste bile in your throat. Frank put his palms up while still shushing you like you're an animal going feral

"Kid–"

"Stay right there."

"Woah, shshh... hey, now, it's okay, it's me, it's me kid. I know you're mad, I know you're confused, but I needed to get away. I needed to keep you safe," Frank is freaking out a bit, words tumbling out of his mouth in rambles.

"No."

"Kid, put the gun down,"

"Speak."

"Easy–"

"What?! What were you trying to say?" you shouted, "Talk,"

"I was trying to protect you–"

"Yeah, you're doing a pretty shit job at it," your words are snaled, eyes glassy with unshed traitorous tears. God every inch of your body hurt. Frank put his hands up, almost stunned, mouth opening and closing again.

"Protect me from what, huh? What is it you were keeping me safe from? Bad people? Those you've killed? Those you made pay for our family? Ones that i have to pay too?"

Frank makes an attempt to take a step closer. "No. No, no, listen to me–"

"Come any closer, I swear to Christ I will unload this fucking thing," you're hysterical now, body shaking, But your hands are impossibly still, holding the weapon. So tight the knuckles turning white because of it. It's almost like holding a gun was as easy as blinking your eyes despite it being your first time. Frank thinks for a brief second that you'd make a good soldier if it was a different situation. Frank can't do nothing other than holding his hands up pleading–begging for his kid to calm down just for a bit, to let him talk, to listen.

"You're dead." you hate how your voice shake and your vision blurry with tears. You hate that you feel weak in front of Frank.

"Please, I–" Frank continues to try to shush you as if he's trying to calm an animal going feral.

"No you're dead! my father is dead. I saw that boat got blown to shit. You have a gravestone just like them. Just like mom. I visit you. Every week. I tell you what's going on with my life. I mourned you. I grieved for you. I–" you're breathing so hard right now it hurt your chest.

Something snapped in your mind, "Does Curt know?"

"He doesn't know this would happen–"

"Cut the bullshit, Frank. Does. He. Know."

"Yeah." remorse fills Frank's tone.

"All this time," you scoff out a laugh, deep from your hurting chest in disbelieve. You put the gun down finally but the safety is still off.

"Every single night I've thought to end it all because there is no point in keeping on going. I can not do this alone. And you just sat there, yeah? Watching me. keeping me 'safe'. you said."

"Look kid, I know I should've come for you but it ain't that easy."

"You know what, I dont give a shit–"

Frank just doesn't want you to say things you don't mean, "Be careful with your words–"

"I don't wanna hear another single goddamn word out of your mouth," you grit through your teeth. Even after all the shit he put you through his ass still scolds you for saying bad words? He's done.

"I don't give a shit what you did, I don't care that you kill people because you're not the only one who's angry, who's enraged. Even in your "punisher" days. Even standing in court of your trial I stood up for you."

Frank averts his eyes to the gun still in your hand. He can't see you in your eyes. The hurtful look in your eyes, Frank doesn't think he'll be able to forget that, it's engrained into his brain forever now.

"I lost my mother. I lost my baby siblings, I lost everyone I have ever cared of. Everyone. But I was wrong right? Not all of them. You're here. Like, here here. breathing and kicking.

"You should've come for me you got that right. but you know what I would've understand. I'd understand you gotta go. That you gotta do what you gotta do. The least you could do was teach me how to fight. You would've want me to fight, right? 'Least you could do was teach me to be something. Someone that's not helpless. So you don't have to what keep me 'safe'."

You gulped, eyes drilling holes into Frank's face. Man, were you thirsty. "But no instead you gotta leave me, alone with only my thoughts,"

Frank stands there, trigger finger twitching like crazy. Letting you let out your anger. Every words, every curse you throw at him, he deserves it all.

"I never ask for much, you know? Even as a child, You know I always keep to myself. And I needed someone. I needed you. Like we don't even have to talk I wanted to just sit with you. That's it, dad. That's all I ever want. I promise that's it please, I promise–" your words morph into broken sobs as you can't take it anymore and that's where Frank marches forward and grabs you, wrapping you in his arms so tight as if his life depended on it, you relaxed a little in his arms and that's where he grabbed the gun from your hand and toss it far. Far away he didnt even know where it lands.

"Shhh, shh it's okay, I'm so sorry, you're okay, it's going to be okay, God, I am so sorry," his words are murmured at the top of your head, over and over and over like a prayer. Bodies trembling, you let out another quiet sob into his chest. As if you feel like you shouldn't cry. Like you think your dad doesn't deserve a single one of your tears and that's when you realized.

You pushed Frank so hard his much bigger frame actually tumbles over and falls to his side. You didn't know where all this strength came from but you don't care, everything hurt too much and you're so, so exhausted. Frank stares up at you with a stunned disbelieved look in his tear stained face.

However the force from it all affected you as well as you feel your body sway and your legs gives up causing you to drop to your knees out of exhaustion. Frank crawled over to you just in time before you hit your head on the ground, catching you again in his arms.

You wake up again, the third time from passing out, sitting in the passenger seat. Head against the window, you stare at the trees you drove by.

"You alright?" Frank cautiously asks.

You don't answer, lips sealed shut. It's silent the entire ride.

#i think im #nap now #frank castle x reader #frank castle #frank castle x gender neutral reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x castle!reader #frank castle angst #the punisher #jon bernthal #the punisher x reader #frank castle x gn!reader

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duke-of-fire · 2 years

Note

Sorry, can you please explain what does "bread clip" mean? Like it sounds cool and interesting (tattoo includes smth about bread???), so I really want to know what it is. Thanks anyway :)

oh abso-fuckin-lutely I can! :D

I do find this topic cool and interesting! but! heads up, this is a bit of a long post. I have a lot to say about this subject because I find it fascinating, but as to not flood others dashboards, I'm hiding it under a read more. I did use your ask to talk about my special interest, and it gets a bit verbose <3

TLDR; Bread clips are the hard plastic things at the opening of bread bags. There's a whole website dedicated to classifying them. I've been collecting them for years and my favorite one has a little heart on it. I use them as a way to bond with my friends, but I also just like sorting mundane items into categories.

So! Picture this: you're going to the store to buy some bread. Maybe you're going to make a sandwich or toast or something. You get home and decide to open the bag, but to do so, you've gotta take this fucker off first.

This is a bread clip! This red one specifically is the most common in shape, but you've probably seen others like these!

These can be found in many places, including, but not limited to: sliced bread, bagels, and english muffins. Not only that, but they can also be found on those mesh bags that hold fruits and vegetables (best example I can think of rn is on potato bags)

The ones I've given as an example so far are all quite similar. They all have the same shaped opening, despite being different lengths and widths. Would be easy if that was where everything ended, but alas! What happens when you run into a clip that looks like this?

What the fuck, right?

This is where HORG comes in. HORG stands for Holotypic Occlupanid Research Group. Basically, their website is a database of holotypes of all these different bread clips. As a whole, the bread clips are called Occlupanids (Occlu meaning "to close" and pan meaning "bread"), and are treated as... parasites.

YES I KNOW. PARASITES. Stay with me on this because it's fucking wild

To quote directly from the HORG website, "Occlupanids are totally adapted to a life of parasitism. Ranging from 2-3cm to 5cm, they are dorsoventrally flattened for ease of moving between the folds of plastic on which they live."

Occlupanids are parasites that live on the bags of bread. Got it? Cool! Let's keep going.

Each Occlupanid is treated as a once living object, to better categorize it. For example! The red Occlupanid from the beginning of this post is categorized as the following:

Kingdom: Microsynthera Phylum: Plasticae Class: Occlupanida Order: Orthogonidectes Family: Toxodentidae Genus: Palpatophora Species: utiliformis

but we would simply refer to it as a Palpatophora utiliformis. In fact, the first three Occlupanids I shared are all part of the same family, that of the Toxodentidae. The families are distinguished by the opening, or to use the official term, the oral groove.

(Fun fact! the weird circle-y one from earlier that's not part of the Toxodentidae family? that's the Coronaspinus gregigelida, or the "Greg's frozen crown of thorns." No, I am not kidding, yes, that is actually what it's called.)

HORG itself is quite interesting as well! I can't pinpoint an exact date of their creation, other than sometime before 2011, as the home page is dated from December 1st of that year, but they claim on their website to have founded in 1632 by someone named Altimus Horg. The image they use for their founder is in fact, a publisher by the name of Aldus Manutius, an Italian man who died in 1515.

They also include a picture of what they claim to be Altimus' personal occlupanid collection, but it is, in fact, an Organum Mathematicum. It had many functions, but none among them included organizing bread clips.

Finally, the rebirth of the HORGanization is directly attributed to a man by the name of Horatio Horg, who the website claims is a direct descendant of Altimus Horg. Just like the case of his ancestor, the image used for Horatio Horg is a real person by the name of Alexander Parkes, the man who invented the first plastic. The whole situation is weird - it's like saying Eugen Baumann invented Funko Pops, while also claiming that Funko Pops are alive, and calling Eugen different name, like William.

Despite my distrust for HORG, their website is fantastic, and if you have the time, you should absolutely go check it out. There's so much on the website that I didn't go into, from the Order Kirigimi, to their film division, to the hypothetical Occlupanids from the 16th century! On top of that, all the pictures in this post are taken directly from their website, save for the image of Aldus Manutius.

This link is for the home page, and then I recommend that you start with their "What are Occlupanids?" page. If you find a Occlupanid in the wild, maybe take the time to categorize it!

To get back to your original question, why do I want a tattoo of a bread clip? I am a proud occlupanologist, collecting and classifying specimen that I find in the wild. I came across my favorite Occlupanid recently, a Quadratopalpus ilex. After years of collecting Occlupanids, this is my only specimen of its species. Mine is a beautiful deep green color, with markings not unlike the one on the holotype. A tattoo of this would be nice. I like the color, I like hunting down these funky little plastic guys and figuring out how to classify them. It's a fun conversation to have when my friends have extras that they bring to me because they know I like them.

If you got this far! Thank you for reading! :D I hope the rest of your day is fantastic!

#this is one of my special interests so I'm glad you asked about it! i love being able to talk about these because they're crazy lmao #this was probably more information than you wanted to know tbh but! it's done #favorite #Occlupanid #special interest

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unhingedselfships · 10 months

Text

It was some big, multi group, party.

Seemed weird given most of these people wanted to kill each other but.

Well she wasn’t really one of them so far be it for her to understand.

Still. Her nerves were wearing thin.

She was a novelty here. The barely legal little American girl the Tojo Chairman had moved across the planet for… reasons. There was plenty of speculating.

Not that most of it was true.

He cared about her, he was a good man, and when she’d desperately needed to escape, he’d offered.

Nothing else to it. One emotionally wrecked girl, and a man with far too much kindness.

Alas, she’d been quickly dismissed as the latest ‘toy’ by everyone up to and including the man’s own mother.

She wasn’t even that pretty? Maybe they thought her a freak? Willing to do some real weird shit? After all, she didn’t exactly set that “gold digger standard”.

She supposed maybe she’d dressed a bit like one, but eh. She had nice tits, and she knew it. The only nice thing about her, no duh she was gonna show it off.

Of course, that meant others were gonna notice too. He’d been sleazy and way too obvious and very not her type. Shutting him down had been trickier than she’d expected but eventually he’d wandered off in a huff, making promises to return or do something or other, she didn't know, she’d stopped caring.

“Backpfeifengesicht, never met anyone more fitting,” an exaggeration, maybe, but she was cranky.

“Really now? That sounds unpleasant,” he’d leaned over her shoulder, startling her, and she twisted to look at him.

Annnnd immediately felt her face heat. For all the creepy old men that had been sidling up to her that night, this one was well- decidedly less creepy. And a lot nicer to look at. And his voice gave her chills.

“Oh- um- yeah- well,” she stuttered and he grinned at her, “It um, well it isn’t exactly nice,”

“Care to share?”

She hummed, and tried not to look directly at him.

“Ah, gimme a second yeah?”

“Take your time princess, I can wait.”

Something in his tone was both smarmy and eager.

She mulled it over a bit longer and he chuckled, and in perfect Upper Class British-English, “My English is pretty good too, if that would be easier for you.”

“Ah, um, ok. I guess the closest would be like ‘a face in need of a fist’, or something like that.”

He blinked before throwing his head back and laughing, the chains around his neck jingled and his hair fell in his face.

The flush was back, and worse than ever.

“Yeah, yeah I could agree with that assessment,” he seemed delighted.

She took the moment to look him over, the burgundy textured velvet suit, the black on black shirt, half buttoned.

And a knife. She knew that shape well. And actually-

“Oh!” she didn’t think as she reached, “Is that the-”

He moved faster than her, and with a hell of a lot more grace, grabbing the offending hand and spinning her, arms pinned across her, her back pressed to his chest-

And she was still rattling off knife specs. Weight, length, the fucking metal blend.

How cute~

She was still babbling, and he found himself even more amused, did this girl really have no fear?

Looking up he noticed the Sixth Tojo Chairman making a beeline for them, eyes hard, and ready for conflict.

Kadokura’s eyes took on something… manic. Wild and wicked.

He felt her shift but didn’t think much of it, too busy silently goading the younger man.

She tugged at something on her thigh, passed it from hand to hand, and he found another knife, not his own, waved vaguely in front of him.

He blinked, bemused.

Tricky little thing.

“Thiisss one, is mine. I doubt it’d be a comfortable hold, it was made specifically for me, but. It’s nice right?”

It was nice. Damascus steel, antler handle, seven inch blade, eleven inch total, give or take a bit.

Daigo had moved within range, and she finally noticed him, trailing off in her rambling.

One arm loosened its hold on her, grabbing the knife from her hand.

“It is lovely, where did you say you got it?”

“Oh!�� She leaned her head back against his shoulder, and he found it novel how comfortable she seemed to be in his hold, “My cousin makes them. Well, there are like, three cousins who do forging. They make me pieces for gifts now and then. They’re good right?”

He hummed, “Indeed they are.”

Looking up she noticed the approaching Chairman, and paled, finally going quiet.

“I’m- being super autistic about this, aren’t I?”

His arms fell from around her as he took a step back, bending double, and cackling.

He gasped, trying to catch his breath, and she seemed uncomfortable with the audience they’d attracted, looking between him and Daigo-chan anxiously.

Adorable, really.

Standing, he reached out with a grin, giving a lock of her hair a tug.

“I’ll be seeing you around darling.”

He laughed at the flush that darkened over her, and wandered off.

Wide eyed, she turned to Daigo.

“Who was that?”

“Kadokura Kenshi, from one of the factions up North. He’s not a man you want to be involved with Kimi.”

“Oh. Oh I think I do.”

…

A little while later, the cry of “That asshole still has my knife!” carried across the room, and he cackled as he left.

#yakkimi #kadokura-verse #yakuza!kadokura kenshi #drabble #one shot #there are several differences in these verses beyond the obvious #one of the biggest being that Kimi and Dai stay strictly platonic

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dark9896 · 2 years

Text

Moving in [Blurb Cannon]

This cute little blurb cannon was requested by anonymous 📦

(All the stories I use are things I did.....I was a weird little dork)

Klaus

Klaus was excited to have you move in with himself, it was quite the step for both of you. He didn't mind helping you pack, a tiny glimpse into things he might not have seen about you before. Especially since even he could get sentimental and start rambling when packing away your life's memories.

The only thing he wouldn't do was touch your clothing, he felt awkward handling your delicates. Admittedly, you didn't like that idea either. Klaus trying to help pack away your skimpy, risqué outfits and undergarments just didn't seem right. Sure, you two were intimate, but him handling those articles of clothes for longer than it took during that just felt wrong.

Though clearing out your important files was the main issue. Old picture albums, bills and things you really should sort through soon, and various attempts at drawing and writing were being packed away diligently.

Klaus noticed a loose photo flutter down to the ground. He set the armful of adorable crayon doodles in the marked box before stooping down to retrieve the picture.

"[Name]," Klaus's uncertain tone caught you off guard, "Who is this child in the photo?"

You glanced at an old Halloween photo. Oh god, this had been so long ago, you had only been 8 or 9 at the time. That old unlicensed ninja costume, all yellow and black.

"That was me, I was maybe 8 or 9. I don't fully remember." Klaus looked back at the photo, you had truly been adorable, "That Halloween had been something. I chased some older kids for scaring younger ones."

Klaus looked at you, "Oh? I don't believe I've heard this story."

"Its all on the tin." Klaus tilted his head, silently asking for the details. You took a deep breath, "So I was trick-or-treating in a nice neighborhood by the local park and I had those plastic katanas, and a little light-up dagger. My parents and I were coming up on this one house with really nice decorations and a group of teenagers who were just trying to scare the kids after they got candy." Klaus chuckled, "I didn't know that at the time, and I saw older kids chasing younger ones. So I shook my little dagger at first, and they laughed at me. Then I pulled one of the plastic katanas and they ran off. One even recognized me."

"So you've always been quite the protective one?" Klaus had a small smile, "That sounds adorable."

"The number of times I jumped into something to protect someone was embarrassing."

"I think its incredibly sweet of you." Klaus lifted your hand to kiss your knuckles, "A gentle guardian."

"Would you like a mirror there sweetheart?"

Klaus blushed a little.

Steven

Finally having a day to help you move, Steven was glad that the packing was almost done. He was a little surprised the things you'd left out this long. A few scented candles and movies stood out. He wasn't familiar with most of them, until his eyes fell on two separate copies of The Phantom of the Opera.

"This must be your favorite to have two copies?"

"Two different versions."

Steven's head popped up to look at you, "Different versions?"

"This one," You poked the cover that looked like a romance novel, "Is a reimaginaging by Andrew Lloyd Webber. The music is in English and the story is kinda tame. Especially compared to this one." You poked the other cover, "It has scenes I just can't watch."

"Scenes you can't watch?" Steven knew you had an iron stomach and nearly unshakeable when it came to horror movies, so what made this different?

"The Phantom sews fresh skin on himself ala Leatherface style." You felt a shiver run along your spine, "And they show the carpet needle piercing skin and sewing it together. Its a bloody good practical effect, but I just can't......I can't watch it."

"Maybe we could watch it together once we get everything moved into my apartment?" You hoped he meant the nicer one, "And you can curl up to me until those scenes are over?"

At least he had a fail safe, though you're pretty sure he just wanted an excuse to snuggle.

Leo

Leo had already moved his stuff into the larger apartment the two of you had agreed to rent together and was so excited about it that he had to call Michella immediately.

Right now he was trying to help you sort and pack. He knew you were a bit of a dork like him, but holding this foam Pokéball was a bit much. It looked like some kind of project.

"Uh, [Name]?"

"Hmm?" You were a little busy packing away your book collection, "What is it Leo?"

"This Pokéball thing here, is it important?"

You looked to see Leo holding up a worn looking science project, "Uh not really. But I did wanna keep it."

"What is it exactly? Did your school do science fairs?"

"No, at least not the kind shown in movies or TV shows. That was just a little project about moles and molecular formula."

"And you made a Pokéball out of foam for it?"

"Look, don't judge me." You turned back to your books, "The idea was to take something complicated and make it easy to explain. Which I did, and got first place in my class for."

Leo chuckled, "Why doesn't that surprise me? Your dorkyness paid off."

You tossed a piece of crumpled paper at him, "You're one to talk, Tortoise Knight."

Zapp

"What kind of dorky sh*t is this?"

You rolled your eyes, you were trying pack so you could move in with Zapp. It was shocking that he had asked you first. He had tried saying it wasn't a big deal because your lease was almost up and so on and so forth, but you could see right through that.

Zapp was nervous about you staying with him though. You knew about his flagrant lifestyle and still stuck with him, but how would you feel seeing someone else in the apartment? And would they try to attack you? He wasn't going to bring this up, he didn't want you to know he was worried about that.

"And what's this dorky sh*t?"

You hung your head, finally turning to see what he was holding up, an old off brand light saber you made at a Wild Adventures when you went with a friend.

"That's a dollar store light saber." You turned back to pile of stuff in front of you, "I customized it myself."

"No wonder it kinda looks cool." Zapp put the toy off to the side, "In that goth kinda way."

"I have Vader's saber too."

Zapp grinned mischievously, "Is that a challenge?"

You picked the aforementioned toy up out of the pile and extended it with a flick of the wrist, "You're a fourth rate swordsman with a fifth rate weapon."

"Oh those are fighting words sexy!"

Zapp stood up, grabbing the knock off saber. The two of you play fought with the pretend swords. Zapp was actually being careful not to break your stuff while taunting you playfully. You couldn't help but giggle the whole time.

Zed

Zed was so elated to be moving into your apartment. He helped sort things that could be packed away to help make room for his tank which he over saw the installation of.

Since the two of you were waiting for his tank to fill, he was helping you unpack some of the stuff that had been hastily tossed in boxes. Zed was carefully setting novels that he looked forward to reading now that borrowing didn't mean taking the book to work and risking forgetting about it.

You were setting up a small desk across the bedroom, Zed thought it was a charming little set up though he wondered what it was for.

Curiosity overtook him, "[Name], what are you setting that desk up for?"

"I write my own stuff every now and then. That's all this old laptop is good for. Well, that and playing music though I need to put the file on some kind of thumb drive."

"You write your own stories?" Zed lit up at the idea that you would.

"Kinda." You were a little sheepish, "Its mostly power fantasy stuff and fan fictions from shows I like."

"Would you be comfortable with me reading through them?"

"They aren't that good." Zed realized just how shy you being, "It wouldn't be worth reading."

Zed stepped up behind you, attempting to use physical affections as a persuasion tool. Hugging you gently from behind, "Please? I would really like to see your work."

You let out a soft groan, "Alright. But just one."

Zed smiled and let go just enough so you unlock the computer. He couldn't believe his luck in finding someone he could genuinely share so much with.

(I cheated with Zed.)

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