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#alright last one im going back into my cave
crystallakec · 2 years
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evil spirit
(ref:
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啊啊真的太喜歡...
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peachsayshi · 5 months
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ dirty diaries
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minors / ageless / blank blogs dni - gif by @sleepygetou 💓 (used with permission)
ೃ⁀➷ notes: @sleepygetou im blaming you for this quick drabble
ೃ⁀➷ tags: toji x reader; you convince toji to participate in no nut november; suggestive; mentions of groping; fluff - wc: 539
nov. 1 - 9:22 am
"hold on a second - we aren't allowed to have sex and I can't take care of myself either?!"
you smirk with amusement, scooping another spoonful of creamy ice cream from the tub. you're sitting on the kitchen counter, kicking your legs with intrigue while watching your husband place the last clean dinner dish in the cupboard.
"that's why they call it no nut novemeber," you explain, "you're supposed to be abstaining from sex and any sexual relief. oh, and you can't watch porn. that counts as part of the challenge..."
toji turns on his heel to take a step closer. he presses his body against your legs, dark eyes flickering to the spoon in your hand that you're slowly drawing it to his lips in order to feed him some of your ice cream.
he hums, "and the videos and pictures of you that I have on my phone..." he quips, both hands finding the meat of your thighs as he gives you a gentle squeeze. "does that count too?"
you tap the back of the spoon playfully against his nose, watching him scrunch it like a little kitten in response. "yes, they count..." you lecture, despite your cheeks growing unnervingly hot.
"can I still touch you?"
"you can but...like I said, it can't lead to us having sex or any sexual relief. these same rules will apply to me as well-"
"fuck that," toji scoffs, moving his hands further up until they are resting against your hips.
you stick the spoon back into the ice cream, keeping it place as you use your free hand to trail your finger along his jaw. "why not? you think you're going to lose that easily?"
he pouts; the front of his brows pinching together in annoyance.
if there is one thing about your husband that you know for certain, it's that he won't walk away from a challenge.
"what about kissing?" he grumbles, his cheeks turning pink. "because I'm not starting my day without my good morning kiss..."
you giggle, placing the tub absentmindedly by your side so you can wrap your arms around his neck. "kissing is fine," you sweetly assure him, and follow up by placing a gentle peck on his slightly blushing cheek.
he considers it for a minute before huffing in defeat. "alright, I'll guess give it a go..."
you can't stop smiling over the fact that he looks like a child who just had his favorite toy taken away from him and the expression is far too adorable for you to even handle.
"it'll be an interesting challenge," you prompt, already making bets that the man wouldn't last a week. "I promise I won't push your buttons..."
toji arches his brow, picking up on your playfully condescending tone. the hands against your hips snake their way up underneath his old tee that you're wearing, gliding carefully up along your soft tummy. he holds your gaze, can feel the change in your breath underneath his palms. "looks like we're both in it to win it," he murmurs, the scar at the corner of his uplifting into a sinister grin. he cups your breasts in his hands as he grazes over the buds of your nipples delicately. "I promise I'll be on my best behavior as well then, sweetheart. let's see which one of us caves first."
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home is where the heart is
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PAIRING: soft!Tangerine x fem!Reader
WORD COUNT: 2.8k
SUMMARY: you and Tan have a free day, deciding that you want to spend the cold day together at home doing cozy and domestic activities.
TAGS/WARNINGS: tooth rotting fluff, pet names, swearing, established relationship, just cute domestic stuff. no mentions of ‘y/n’
A/N: unfortunately there’s no smut in this one, booo- I know I know. but I am planning another story that’s got lots of angst and a tonnes of dirty smut. I wanted to create a quick little cute story, that can be for everyone. it felt really weird to write something that had no smut, and just all fluff- so that was a challenge, plus ive been in a bit of a writing slump since my last post got deleted (yes im still pissed about it lmao) I was in a rush to post this, bc during xmas time I didn’t have much time to write this plus it’s 2023 (wtf?) also hope you enjoyed the holidays & happy new year💌 feedback is always appreciated. hope you like:)
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Frosty mornings like these were your favourite, waking up in his warm arms; the comfort and safety it brought you was something that could never quite be topped. Most mornings he’d ‘accidentally’ awaken you by playing with your hair, stroking your shoulders or tracing over your features. Today was no different.
Sometimes he’d wake up an hour before you, and he would become so impatient that he’d have to physically stop himself from opening your eyes.
Today he opted for a different route, growing restless; waking you up by planting kisses all over your face.
“Finally” he rasps as he sees your eyes slowly open “mornin'”
“Good morning” you sluggishly reply, still half asleep.
Noticing the sleep dust in your eyes, he swipes his thumbs in the corners of your eyes, softly removing the sleep crusties. “You look so pretty in the morning”
Shying your face away into the pillow “shut up” you muffle into the fabric before loudly groaning while you stretched in a starfish.
“Come back” readjusting you, so that your head rested on his chest- embracing you tight to him.
You adored the quality time you two shared, you could sit in comfortable silence for hours- just quietly enjoying each other's presence.
“What you fancy doin' today?” He asks, interrupting the ten-minute-long silent cuddle. Taking your hand, placing his against yours above the covers.
“We got the whole day together right? I kinda wanna have a chill quiet day in”
“Good, me too”
“Okay good good- alright let me go now, I’m gonna piss myself” you say, trying to push yourself away.
“No, five more minutes” he whines, pulling you back in.
“I am ten seconds away from wetting the bed”
“Just do it in my mouth” he jests.
His response caught you off guard making you guffaw, followed by a loud gasp.
“Don’t- that’s not funny” now ripping yourself from his embrace, speed walking into the bathroom.
“Babe? I’ll go feed the cat, I’ll be downstairs.” Tangerine shouts from the other side of the door.
Last year you and Tan rescued a ginger cat from a shelter; he was very reluctant on getting a cat- in fact, he hated the idea, instantly shutting it down. You begged him for months and months until one day when he finally caved.
You thought that the cat would be your own pet, considering how much Tangerine was against it- but that was not the case; he and the cat were practically inseparable. He even chose her name before you could get a chance- naming her Mandarine (Mandy for short)
You were feeling a bit sweaty and grimy from last night’s dirty escapades, deciding to quickly hop in the shower.
Drying off and putting on some comfy loungewear, before briskly walking down the grand staircase.
“Something burning?” you shout out, once making your way to the bottom of the stairs.
Walking into the kitchen, stopping in your tracks looking around the room as if a bomb had just gone off in there.
“I know I know, it’s a shithole” he admits, resting against the worktop looking defeated. “I tried making you breakfast”
“You did? That’s so sweet”
“When I say breakfast I mean a pile of shite, you might get ill if you eat it” he says looking almost embarrassed, sliding the plate behind him- hiding it from you.
“I want to eat what you made” you sweetly coo, trying to make him feel a bit better. “You took time and effort, so I’d like to try it”
Reluctantly he pulls out the plate, sliding it along the counter towards you, looking away.
You tried so so hard to show a poker face because you knew that it would crush him if you turned your nose up at it. It looked revolting- just straight-up foul, but he could never know that.
Taking a fork from the draw, and walking yourself over to the island chair to take a seat. You were trying to decide what would be the least disgusting thing to eat. The almost raw scrambled eggs? The charcoal-coloured toast? Or was it the burnt baked beans?
Begrudgingly you slide your fork into the beans, scooping a mouthful and taking a bite. In your mind this was you showing him how much you loved him.
“No stop, I can’t let you eat that. I don’t want you to get sick.” He announces abruptly, pulling the plate away from you.
“It’s okay, I wanna eat what you made” sneaking your fork onto the plate again, taking another bite of the beans- once again proving some kind of bizarre loyalty.
“What you doing you knob?! Don’t eat it. I will go and get something from the shop” he blurts “anyway I used up everything in the fridge making this shit.”
“Thank you for making it, I really do appreciate it” you reassure him. “You go to the shop, and I’ll clean up this pigsty, okay?”
He jogs upstairs to change. You look around the room trying to decide where to start.
Clattering comes rushing down the stairs “alright my love, I’m off.”
Walking up to you, kissing you on the forehead “I love you, be right back”
Smiling back at him, “I love you, be safe” waving him off.
With the door closing you spin on your heel in an attempt to clean.
Putting on some music to help get you in an energised mood.
You couldn’t help but feel something was off with Tangerine, usually, he’s a pretty good cook- quite organised too. But with the state left in the kitchen, you wondered if something was on his mind.
~
Being so occupied with the music and cleaning you had no idea that Tan had been watching you for the last couple of minutes- too busy dancing and singing along to your favourite songs.
A couple light taps on your shoulder snap you out of your trance, instantly frightening you. “AH-ohmygod don’t do that” you shriek, turning the music right down- almost muted.
Chuckling to himself “sorry sorry” pulling his hands from behind his back, handing you the most beautiful bouquet of flowers “sorry I took so long, I stopped by the florists”
“These are stunning! Thank you” you respond full of joy.
“Always welcome. I’ll put these in a vase for you. Put your feet up… and thank you for cleaning my mess”
“Of course! And no it’s okay, I’ll put the shopping away”
“Wait, before you do that, get my phone… in my pocket” noticing you look around in a confused way. “My hands are wet, my phone in my pocket.. my joggers- the ones I’m wearing.” He knew that sometimes you could be a bit slow, so he made sure to never lose his temper with you.
“Oooh” cackling to yourself. Reaching your hands into his pocket, pulling out his phone.
“Okay good, unlock it… now go on photos”
Looking up at him slightly befuddled “are you sure? It’s your phone, I don’t wanna snoop”
“Yes- do it” looking down at you to see your reaction. “I know you love the sky… the sunrise looked beautiful this morning and thought you’d like a picture of it” focusing on you, trying to figure out what you were thinking.
“Why are you so thoughtful? I’m gonna send these to myself. It’s so pretty, thank you handsome” giving him a quick couple of pecks on the lips.
“Oooo wait- what’s this?” Finding a picture of him on a mission, showing him the selfie on his phone- mouth agape “looking good my friend, Jesus Christ you’re so pretty… I’m sending this to myself too”
Both beaming at each other. “These look good, right?” He asks, placing the vase on the accent table in the hallway, and adjusting them a couple times.
“They’re beautiful” smiling at him, from behind the fridge door. “Babe? Why so many eggs?” You ask.
“You talk about how much you want to bake again, I thought we could do that today” strolling over to you, standing behind you, and wrapping his arms around your waist. Resting your head back on his chest. “You are too cute sometimes, ya know that?”
Kissing you on the cheek, walking away to put the kettle on “fancy a cuppa?”
“Ooh yes please” you reply, closing the fridge and putting away the bags.
“Is that-?” Tan asks himself, walking over to your phone “it is” turning it up a bit. “It’s our song” it was live forever by Oasis.
Taking your hand, slowly swaying with you around the kitchen. You pick up Mandy, noticing that she wants if be included, holding her between you both as you step around the table. Smiling at each other, like a cute little family.
Once the song finishes you place the cat down on her favourite spot on the windowsill. Making your teas, taking a few sips.
“What do you wanna make?” You ask while looking through the cupboards.
“I’m partial to those blueberry muffins you make” he instantly responds, almost as if they were already on his mind.
“Ooh they do sound good right now actually”
Working together as a team, doing things as though your minds are connected- as if you both know what the other needs before they even know it.
Once everything had been washed up, you both waited impatiently for the timer to go off. You were sat on the counter and Tan was standing between your legs with his back to you, hugging around him, resting your face against his muscular back.
“Oh hurry up you stupid oven” you say out loud to yourself.
You could feel your face bob up a couple times from the vibrations of his chuckle
*ding*
Tan opens the door, pulling out the tray of muffins with the tea cloth, placing them on a heat pad. You rush over snatching one, raising it to take a bite. He cups his hand under your mouth because he knew what was about to happen next.
“Ashahsahash” you muffle, steam exiting your mouth, letting the piece of muffin fall into his hand.
“Hot?” He jokes, smirking at you.
“Yup”
Instead of throwing your bite away or putting it aside, he eats it straight from his hand. You hated to admit it, but that was so hot. Your eyes widened, looking away smirking.
“Go put sommat on the telly, I’ll be in there in a min- before you go, take in the drinks would ya?” he sweetly instructs.
You set the sofa with a few fluffy blankets, closing the curtains. Lighting some candles before flopping onto the sofa.
He follows not long after with a tray of goodies. The muffins, a bowl of pretzels and couple bags of chocolate. A few small oranges on the board to add some balance. He even decorated the tray with a flower in an empty beer bottle.
Setting it down on the coffee table. Plopping himself down next to you- adjusting the pair of you so that he was sitting in the corner of the sofa, allowing you to lounge into him.
Covering yourselves with the blankets. “What do you fancy watching?” He questions while picking up the controller.
In sync, you both suggest “Gavin and Stacey?” Which was followed by a laugh from you both.
With his arm draped over your shoulder, he lifted your jaw up so that he could give you a couple sweet deep kisses. Snuggling into him as the tv plays, Mandy joins- laying soundly on Tan’s lap.
~
After a few hours had passed, you wanted to get up to have a quick stretch and pee break. By this point, you were half laid on his chest and half falling down the back of the sofa. “Okay I gotta get up, my back is killing” you announce.
“Me too, I’ve been needing a piss the whole episode.”
“Quick break and rejoin in five?” You ask.
“Naa make it ten, I need a cig”
“Sorry, Mandy baby, mummy’s gotta get up” you softly say to the orange ball of fluff sleeping on the dip in your waist.
“Awh she’s so mean Mands, aww you poor thing, come to daddy” he jokes while picking her up, smirking at you because he loves winding you up.
“Evil” you respond to him shortly.
After your short break, gathering back together on the couch. This time his head rested on your shoulder as he cuddled into you, running your fingers through the length of his hair. Laying together in peaceful silence.
His phone rang obnoxiously, interrupting the quiet. “Hello? What?!” He snaps to the person on the receiver. Tan’s tone was always different around other people, he spoke to you in a gentle, caring, and loving way- he wouldn’t dare speak to you the way he does to others.
“Alright keep your fucking knickers on” he groans into the phone. “I’ll be right back love” he whispers to you, kissing your forehead before leaving the room.
Even though the door was closed you could still hear what he was saying, it muffled throughout the walls, but you didn’t want to eavesdrop.
“No! I ain’t fucking doing it. Find someone else”
Your eyebrows screwed together in confusion. “What was he on about?” you thought to yourself.
He re-enters the room, and you pretend that you weren’t listening to his call.
Slumping down next to you, looking irritated.
Turning round to look at him, you were concerned “you doing okay?” You question.
“Yeah. What you wanna watch now?” He asks, changing the subject.
“Hey? You can talk to me.”
“I don’t wanna bother you.”
“You could never” you reassure.
Huffing out a long breath before professing what was on his mind. “This Russian nut job wants me and Lem to collect his son and some ransom money in Tokyo. He’s been hounding us for days. I don’t want to do it- he knows about the Bolivia job and personally wants to hire us. But that man- he’s fucked in the head. I don’t want to get caught up in that shit.”
“Would it be selfish for me to say that I’m glad you don’t want to take it?” you admit. “I just want you safe. Why don’t you invite Lem over? You can talk it over in your office, I can make us all some dinner and maybe we can play some card games by the fireplace or watch some tv? He can stay over and hopefully it will help get your mind off it all?”
“Okay… we’ll try that. I’ll ring him now” holding your face, bringing it close to his- giving you a couple long kisses before leaving the room- going upstairs.
You hurry to the kitchen, looking through the fridge to see what to make for this impromptu dinner evening. Deciding on creamy chicken pasta with steamed veg.
Tangerine joins you a few minutes later, helping you cook the food. “He won’t be long, he’s already in the area”
“Good good, is his stuff up in his room? Or in the laundry?” You ask, wanting to make sure Lemon feels welcome when he arrives. A couple years ago you both turned a spare room into his room so that whenever he visits (more often than not) he’d feel comfortable and at home.
“His room” he replies like he’s trying to remember.
A couple echoing knocks come from the wooden door, and Tan rushes to it- unlocking it. A booming voice follows with footsteps towards the kitchen.
“Lem! Hi, welcome welcome. Hope you’re hungry” you gush, walking around the island to give him a hug.
“It smells fucking banging in here” he compliments.
“Thank you. Your stuff is upstairs on your bed, it should be clean and folded”
“Ah you are a gem”
“Dinner is almost done, babe you do drinks, Lem you do cutlery and I’ll serve” you instruct.
“You’re the boss” Tangerine says, saluting you.
Walking to into the living room, handing them their bowls, before taking a seat on the sofa between the brothers.
“What we watching?” Lemon asks before taking a bite. “Woah that’s fucking good,” he says with a mouthful.
“Thank you”
“Before you ask Lem, we ain’t watching fucking Thomas” Tangerine pipes up.
“What about Gavin and Stacey?” Lem questions.
Your neck whips round to face Tan, both bursting into laughter.
“What? Did I spit on you or something?” He asks sounding a bit embarrassed.
“No no! Just we’ve been watching that all day” you comfort.
“Yeah, I can watch it again” Tangerine chirps in.
For the rest of the night, the three of you plus Mandy lounged around. Watching tv and playing board games until it was time to sleep.
All of you getting ready for the night, saying goodnight to Lemon before heading to bed.
Snuggling into Tan under the duvet, using him as a hot water bottle.
“Thank you for taking my mind off everything today my sweet” he softly hushes. 
“Anytime my love” you soothe.
“I’m fucking knackered. Goodnight Clementine, I love you” he whispers, turning around to tightly spoon you.
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Worlds apart
Telling his mate about his true nature didn't go as planned.
____________________
I felt terrified, standing in front of the sign. "Welcome to Santa Carla!" It said, in bright yellow and red letters. Pictures of the boardwalk, the rides, and the traintrack - things I hadn't seen in so long.
I wasn't terrified of going back to Santa Carla. In fact, I had been anxious to. I needed to get back, I needed to come home. I just didn't know if home wanted me back.
You see, about eight months ago, I met this boy. Well, he was a bit too old to be called a boy, but you get what I mean. He was this early twenty-something year old, with the prettiest eyes I'd ever seen. With stories, I could listen to for hours without getting bored. A sense of humour that matched mine. Looks that were to die for. I had met him the day I moved to Santa Carla, preparing for a new start after losing the last family I had left. Within two weeks, I had completely fallen for him, and lucky for me, he had also fallen for me.
David was everything. In such a short time, he became my safe haven, my home, my best friend and lover, and I couldn't imagine spending my life with anyone else. It scared me a little how quickly everything went, but he always reassured me that we wouldn't rush into things if I did not want to. Those six weeks were absolute heaven. I honestly believe that I have never been happier.
It was only when I spent the night at the cave, their home, that something shifted between David and me.
"I need to tell you something."
"Are you alright?"
"Sit down," he said, his voice more distant than I had ever heard before.
"David?"
"You know I love you, right?"
I nodded.
"I need to near you say it."
"I know. I love you too. David, what's going on?"
"I'm a vampire."
I was quiet for a moment before laughing. "Yeah, right. That's a good one."
"Love," he looked at me, "I am not lying."
And he wasn't. His eyes turned yellow, his face turned into a batlike shape, and his fangs seemed sharp enough to tear me in two.
"Y-you're not joking?"
"No."
"You're - you're a vampire? I- you kill people?"
"Yes."
"How long?"
"Almost eighty years."
My eyes grew wide as I felt panic wash over me. This wasn't real. This was just one big prank from the boys - there is no way that vampires were real. David wouldn't lie, not ever. He hated liars, so why-? I began to focus on my breathing, trying to calm myself down.
"Why didn't you kill me?"
"I couldn't. I could never hurt you."
"Why not?"
"You're my mate. We belong together."
And that's when I fully panicked. I got sick, I threw up, I whimpered and cried and avoided his touch out of fear. I didn't dare look at him, both scared that this was some sort of cruel joke and at the same time scared that this was real. That vampires were real.
"I- David, I- I love you, I really do, but this - how can this be real? I don't believe - if this is real, if you are speaking the truth..." I fell silent, not knowing what to say.
"I am not lying to you, love."
I nodded, tears in my eye. "I need time. I - I don't know if I can deal with this right now. Not without being unfair and mean and cold to you. Im scared, and I..." The first teardrop fell. I - I'm sorry."
David nodded, getting what I was hinting at. He reached for me, holding my hand before letting it go with a soft squeeze. After losing my family and not actively dealing with that, the news of my boyfriend being undead was the final drop in the already close to overflowing bucket.
"You need to take your time and space. Just-" he took a breath, "Please stay in touch."
I had nodded, and I had left him there. Six months ago now. In that time, I had taken my space, literally. I had been afraid still and had gone to Sweden - enjoying the days where the sun wouldn't set. It felt safe. Safe from vampires and monsters, and it allowed me to deal with things. Two weeks after I had left, I wrote my first letter. I had it delivered at the videostore, hoping that David would get it. And he did, because after a week I had a response from him.
In the letters I sent him, I told him where I was, what I had been up to. I asked questions about him being a vampire, and slowly but surely, I came to terms with it. Still, I felt rather confused. I got why he hadn't told me about it from the start, and at the same time, the lying also hurt. But, in the end, I dealt with my family passing, I dealt with my mixed feelings about him being a vampire, and I was ready to go back.
And now, six months later, I was ready to go back home. I realised I had been unfair to him, that I definitely hurt him - which was not what I had wanted, absolutely not, but back then, I had been certain that I needed the space - and I was terrified to see him again. What if he didn't want me anymore? Or what if he moved on? Honestly, if he had, I couldn't blame him. I had been the one to leave.
With a deep breath, I started the short walk to the boardwalk, spotting David when he left the videostore.
"Nothing?" I heard Dwayne ask.
"No. I shouldn't have let them go. I should have gone to bloody Sweden as soon as I knew they were there."
He stomped off to the beach, and I quickly followed. Seeing him now made me realise not only how much I had missed him but how much he had missed me as well. I walked after him, stopping quickly as David turned around angrily.
"Why are you following -" his expression softened, and disbelief flashed over his face. "You're here?"
"Hi," I whispered, not trusting my voice to let any louder noise escape.
David hugged me tightly, and I broke down - crying as I held onto him. "I'm sorry I left, I'm so sorry I was so stubborn. I missed you so much, I-" I gasped for breath, sinking down to the ground. David held me, and I saw some tears burning in his eyes.
"I thought you'd never come back. I was scared you wouldn't."
"I was scared you'd be angry," I said softly, looking at him. "I'm sorry for how I left."
"I'm sorry I scared you so bad."
"Can we start over?" I asked. "Just try to rebuild what we had? If - if you want me still, that is."
"Yes," David smiled, kissing my forehead softly. "Nice to meet you, love."
I smiled shyly. "I promise I won't ever run off to a place with no nighttime again."
"Next time, I'll just follow you. The burns will be a testament of my love."
I kissed him, softly and gently, smiling when he returned the kiss. Nothing could show him how much I regretted leaving, how much I had missed him - but being here felt right. Being with him felt right. I just hoped he felt the same.
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megalony · 8 months
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Locked In
This is my first Dalton Lambert imagine from the Insidious franchise, do let me know what you think. Comments and requests are much aprpeciated.
Taglist: @lunaticspoem@butlegendsneverdie@langdonzvoid@jennyggggrrr@rogmeddows@radiob-l-a-hblah@rogertaylorsbitontheside@chlobo6@rogertaylors-lipgloss@sj-thefan@omgitsearly@luckytrashgooprebel@scarsout@deaky-with-a-c@killer-queen-ofrhye@bluutac@vousmemanqueez-blog@jonesyaddiction@milanosaurus@httpfandxms@saint-hardy@7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls@mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@noonenuts@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread
Masterlist
Summary: Dalton, (Y/n) and Chris go to a frat party but when Dalton loses sight of (Y/n) he searches everywhere to find her and make sure she's okay.
Enjoy.
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The unique four knocks on the door broke Dalton out of his trance and made him feel like he had just woken up from a dream. He should have been adding some extra details to his latest painting but for the last twenty minutes or so, all he had been doing was staring blankly at the canvas. No more ideas were coming to mind, his thoughts had been wiped clean and if he tried too hard he would only ruin his artwork.
So he had taken to staring angrily at the painting, waiting for something to pop out at him or for his attention to dwindle so he could focus on something else.
But the person on the other side of the door would serve as a great distraction. He knew who it was before the door even opened. The rhythmic knock on the door told Dalton that it was (Y/n) and it was confirmed when she gingerly opened the door and peeked her head round, checking it was alright to come in.
(Y/n) only lived five doors down the hall. That was the excuse they both made when it came to late night chats, games and close encounters when the moon was high in the sky and it was time to call it a night but neither of them ever wanted to.
Dalton watched her tiptoe into his room and lean against the door once it was shut.
She looked lovely.
Somehow, Chris had managed to rope them both into going to a frat party despite knowing that Dalton wasn't the most outgoing of people and (Y/n) was more of a hybernated, quiet soul than a partying girl. (Y/n) had only agreed to go because Dalton was going and likewise, he only said yes because he didn't like the thought of (Y/n) going somewhere like that alone. Without him.
She was wearing highwaisted jeans, pointed flats and a thin, black lace shirt with blue and green butterflies sewn onto it. The shirt was seethrough, Dalton could clearly see her bra and the upper part of her stomach through her shirt. The sight alone made him gulp.
"Do I look okay?" (Y/n) pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and tightened her ponytail out of habit.
There was no way she would go to a frat party wearing a dress unless she had leggings on underneath. She wouldn't put it past some of the idiotic boys there to try lift or pull her dress if she wore one and she was too self-conscious to wear a skirt or shorts. This combination felt the safest while still looking somewhat appealing for a party.
Although the only person (Y/n) wanted to impress and catch the eye of was standing right in front of her.
"Great, you look great."
(Y/n) watched Dalton stand up from his desk chair but he didn't seem to know what to do with himself. One hand tucked into the back pocket of his jeans and he scratched the back of his neck with the other, ruffling the part of his hair that was still loose. Most of his hair was up in a small bun and (Y/n) always caved when he had his hair up like that. His hair like that was a particular attraction that (Y/n) liked to sketch when Dalton wasn't paying attention.
All they needed was Chris to come down and then they were ready.
"Do you have a plaster?"
Her question caught Dalton off guard and the half-smile he had slowly curved into a frown and he quickly walked over, meeting (Y/n) halfway in the middle of his room. He stood a little closer than usual, almost too close until there was barely any space between them.
Their chests were an inch away from touching but he could feel the lace of her shirt and his fingers itched at his sides to reach out and touch her.
Being this close to her made Dalton's heart race but it also meant that he had to look down on her due to the height difference.
"Why, what've you done?" The concern in his voice made (Y/n)'s stomach curdle with adrenaline and a shiver passed down her spine. She could feel his hands hovering over her hips, unsure whether to actually touch her or not as he waited patiently for her to tell him what she'd done.
"Just a small incident with a knife,"
Dalton watched as (Y/n) held out her left hand towards him which he took gently in both his hands and pulled away the wad of tissue to reveal a small gash down the side of her thumb. Thankfully it didn't look too deep but it was clear the wound had bled a lot.
In a flash, Dalton retreated and (Y/n) missed his touch and closeness until he was back with a triumphant smile and a plaster in hand. She stayed silent but her eyes couldn't look away from Dalton's chest that was so close she was breathing into his shirt and could see his collar bone poking through.
It felt good like sparks were igniting in her fingers when Dalton smeared the blood away from her cut before he taped the plaster tightly over it to seal the wound. She thought he was going to drop her hand but after a heartbeat, and then another, he stayed close but silent, running his fingertips over the back of her hand.
Then, before he could think or stop himself, he leaned down and kissed her hand. He wasn't sure why he did, maybe it was because that was what his family used to do, kiss a wound when it was patched up.
His lips stayed hovering over her hand but he looked up through his lashes, catching (Y/n)'s gaze, unable to look away until a carnal desire shot through his chest to reach out and kiss her properly.
Something about (Y/n) just drew Dalton in, attracted him like he'd never felt around anyone else before. He wanted to be close, he always felt the need to reach out and hold her hand or caress the small of her back. He wanted to be near her, guard her, keep her behind him when he could see her getting anxious or freezing over with dread. Dalton was used to the feeling of (Y/n)'s hands gripping the back of his shirt whenever he had took up a protective stance in front of her and when she had pressed her temple into his back between his shoulders he thought he was about to faint.
Their lips brushed.
Dalton wasn't sure whether he had leaned forward and took the leap or if (Y/n) had kissed him but it didn't matter who moved first. What mattered was he now knew what it felt like to kiss her deep, plump lips. They were wet and soft and inviting and he wanted to devour them whole.
He let go of her hands to hold her hips and pull her as close as he could get her until their chests were moulded together. His fingertips dug into her jeans, squeezing her flesh and a groan vibrated through his lips and against (Y/n)'s when he felt her fingertips pulling at his hair.
A knock at the door broke them apart and for a split second, (Y/n) buried her face into Dalton's shoulder and gripped his shoulder when she felt his hands tighten on her hips. Their moment, something they had been waiting to happen for weeks, now it was ruined.
(Y/n) turned on her heels to face the door just as Chris peeked her head round and a bright smile glimmered on her face.
She could feel Dalton's hand move to rest on the small of her back and a small membrane of space came between them so Chris wouldn't get suspicious or nosey into what had just unfolded between them.
"Are we ready?"
"I think so."
It didn't take them long to reach the frat house where the party was being held, they could practically hear the music the moment they left the dorms. And (Y/n) started to regret agreeing to this as soon as they reached the house.
Apprehension dwelled in her stomach and spread throughout her blood until her steps started to slow and she was about to turn around and head back home. She knew Dalton could sense of even feel her waryness because she felt his hand slip into hers and hold tight as they walked up to the front door that was wide open but at the same time, uninviting.
"Stay close," His words were whispered in the crook of (Y/n)'s ear and it made her shiver and a bubble of adrenaline coursed through her stomach.
She wouldn't be venturing far on her own tonight, (Y/n) was already regretting saying yes to coming here in the first place. There was no way she would leave either Dalton or Chris right now, not when she didn't feel at ease here.
The three of them drifted into the kitchen and Chris was first to grab a drink from the large bowl on the table but one look passed between Dalton and (Y/n) that instantly said no. They didn't know what had been put in that punch, anything could have spiked it and they didn't want to take the risk. Both of them decided on a canned drink from the table instead.
"We're not staying long, are we?" (Y/n) whispered the words to Dalton rather than Chris because she knew Chris would argue. She would only leave if the party was well and truly boring or something happened, she wouldn't want to leave just because (Y/n) was uneasy.
"Not if I can help it."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Chris come on, this isn't fun." Tipping his head back against the wall, Dalton scanned his eyes around the room before he looked back at Chris.
They had been up here long enough now, it was time to stop snooping and go back down to the rest of the party before something happened. Anyone could walk up here and catch them in the act of scouting through a stranger's room. It was wrong and it was weird, no one would want people to look through their stuff when they weren't invited to do so.
The more pressing thought on Dalton's mind though, was the fact that he had been away from (Y/n) for too long. She didn't want to come scouting upstairs, even Dalton didn't want to but Chris was adamant someone was snooping with her for 'fun' and (Y/n) said she would be fine downstairs. She had found a seat near where people were dancing and she could sit and people watch and daydream until the pair of them got back to her.
He promised he wouldn't be long and now Dalton just wanted to get (Y/n) and go back to the dorms.
"Aren't you enjoying yourself?"
"Not particularly, no. I'm heading back down." Dalton dragged his fingers through the loose hair at the back of his neck before he pushed off the wall.
"Suit yourself,"
Dalton needed no more than that to leave the room and head back towards the stairs. He knew Chris could handle herself, she would be fine scouting round and when she was bored she would come back down stairs and find him and (Y/n). He didn't feel or think he had to feel as worried about Chris as he did about (Y/n).
He bypassed people on the stairs, shrinking close to the wall to get out of the way and get down both flights of stairs. This party was boring, the voices, music and screeches were too loud and people were too close, too drunk and too irritating.
A slither of fear shot up Dalton's spine when he reached the bottom of the stairs and walked towards the main room of the house.
(Y/n) wasn't where he left her.
Part of him expected her to move. He knew she wouldn't be sitting in the exact same spot he left her but at the same time, he wished she was. It would be easier if she was still near the sofa where she had been before so he could grab her and drag her away and text Chris later to say they had left.
Now he needed to find where she was and make sure she was alright because it was about time they left.
He weaved in and out of the bodies dancing in the back room, being careful not to bump into anyone or accidentally put his hands on someone to get around them. He didn't want to be dragged into a dance with any of the people here who seemed past the point of being drunk.
The unease Dalton felt just kept increasing the further he moved when he couldn't see (Y/n) anywhere in sight. He walked through the almost empty kitchen and back round towards the stairs to no avail.
There was no sight of her lacy butterfly shirt or the black bra that was so visible to the eye or her crimped hair up in a high ponytail. Dalton couldn't see her anywhere, she wasn't crammed into a corner trying to become invisible or sat out the way with a drink or stood chatting to anyone.
Where was she?
Maybe she had gone upstairs to look for him and Chris. That seemed logical, Dalton had swept the ground floor and couldn't see her anywhere and he knew if she saw him she would have called out and made her way over to him.
So he went back up the stairs and stopped on the first floor where he had just been with Chris, peering through the bodies to try and find the one person who always stood out to him.
Surely (Y/n) wouldn't be in one of the rooms up here? Not unless someone had enticed her or made her follow them into a room. Nevertheless, Dalton tried to open a few doors, most of which were locked, and he peered into the rooms that were open to search for (Y/n).
He knew she wouldn't have gone home without either him or Chris and she would have texted him if she was that panicked and was ready to go. She wouldn't go on her own.
"Come on," He muttered under his breath as he scanned the rooms, avoiding Chris who he knew was in the last room at the end of the hall. He didn't want her to panic or come searching with him, not yet. Not until he was sure he had searched every inch of the house and still couldn't find (Y/n).
Anger radiated through Dalton's bones as he headed up to the second floor. Why couldn't he find her? She better be okay because if she wasn't…
A frown pulled at his lips and his brows furrowed when he walked onto the landing of the second floor.
Why were people crowding round one of the rooms?
Something drew Dalton closer to the few students who were hovering in a circle around one of the doors but as he got closer, it felt like claws were scratching the back of his neck and digging under his skin. One or two people were laughing while the others were just, watching, frozen with curiosity and confusion. But what got Dalton's back up was the noise that got louder the closer he got to the room. He reached his arms out and pushed through the people until he was close enough to register what it was.
It was (Y/n).
Dalton knew that voice, he heard it in the few dreams he had when he didn't go wandering the halls of the dorm. He heard that voice when his nightmares plagued him and her voice drew him back into the real world.
But her voice was usually a lulling melody, so far away and quiet that it almost didn't sound real. This voice was shrill, it was broken and loud and desperate in a way that he hated.
"Open the door! L-let me out; let me out!"
"Move!"
With a harsh shove, Dalton pushed someone out of his way so he could stand in front of the door which for some reason, he was sure led to a bathroom.
His hand curled around the handle but it wouldn't open. Someone had locked her in there. (Y/n). His (Y/n), locked in there, screaming for help that no one was bothering to give because they would rather watch the spectacle than get involved and make it stop.
Rage bubbled up inside him like he'd never felt before and before he could process what he was doing, Dalton leaned back and raised his leg up. He slammed the heel of his shoe into the door a total of three times before the wood splintered and the lock broke free.
Dalton barely pushed the door open before a familiar frame burst towards him at full pelt. (Y/n) barelled into him and knocked him down to the floor in front of the crowd in one swoop.
(Y/n) couldn't open her eyes, they were glued shut from fear and her body was shaking, petrified. She didn't know what to do, didn't know how to move or where to go or what to do. She recognised the voice on the other side of the door demanding people move and the moment the door was open, she fled. She saw the familiar face, lined with worry and rage and pelted into him, crashing on top of Dalton and they collided down to the floor.
Her arms cocooned around his chest just before he hit the floor and she could feel all the wind being knocked out of his system but she couldn't find the will to care. (Y/n) buried her face in his shirt and curled up against his chest, laying awkwardly between his legs until she felt those familiar broad hands spreading out on her back and his arms pressing into her sides, safely caging her to him.
For a few seconds, Dalton tried to find the ability to breathe and he shook his head to clear his vision which had turned to stars for a few seconds. When he managed to look down at (Y/n), all he could see was a shaking form laid on top of him, clinging to him like he was her lifeline.
With little effort, Dalton slowly pushed up until he was sitting upright which gave (Y/n) a better opportunity to curl into him and he didn't think twice before he pressed his chin on top of her head.
"Who locked her in there?" Dalton looked round the many faces crowding round, some of whom started to turn away and leave now the commotion had died down. He wanted to know who had done that to her, he wanted to see who thought it would be funny to lock (Y/n) in a tiny bathroom like that and listen to her cry and beg to be let out. "Who the fuck did that?!"
When no one answered, he could have quite happily got up and started throwing punches until someone told him what happened, but he didn't. He couldn't, not when (Y/n) was still in his arms like this.
Tightening his arms around her, he slowly stood up and pulled (Y/n) up with him, making sure to keep his arms tight around her waist so she knew he wasn't about to let her go or leave her alone.
"Come on, we're going."
(Y/n) felt like her legs had turned to jelly but when Dalton guided her towards the stairs and started walking, she went along easily. She could feel him shaking with anger, even as he took out his phone and whispered that he was letting Chris know they were leaving.
The walk back was quiet but it wasn't uneasy.
(Y/n) relished in the fact that Dalton hadn't let her go yet, he didn't dare let go of her. He had both his arms around her back and shoulders, his chin on top of her head and his upper body was twisted to the right to curl around her properly. From the height difference, (Y/n) had her head just beneath his shoulder, pressed into his shirt so she could breathe in his scent and cologne and her eyes were tightly closed. She let him guide her from the house and down the street, back towards their dorms while her arms stayed bound to his slim waist.
"What happened?" Dalton's voice was quiet and tentative when they got back to their dorm block and he only spoke because he felt (Y/n) turn her head to see where they were. She had her cheek pressed into his chest instead but her hold was still crushing but comforting around him.
"I tried to find you two… someone locked the door, I thought I saw something, I just panicked I guess."
He knew of her fear of small spaces just like (Y/n) knew of his fear of the dark.
The bathroom was so small (Y/n) couldn't see how anyone could comfortably stay in there for very long. When the door locked something ignited in her and no one would let her out. Then the light started flickering and for a few seconds, she could have sworn someone else was in that cramped room with her but when Dalton broke the door, no one else was there. Her panicked imagination must have gotten the better of her.
"Can, can I stay in your room tonight?" Her roommate was out late tonight and (Y/n) didn't want to be alone. She didn't fancy lying in bed, panicking and waiting for her roommate to come home so she could settle and not wake up in fright when the door opened.
And Dalton still didn't have a roommate since Chris got reassigned upstairs, he had the room to himself and a spare bed in the corner just screaming out for attention.
"Sure," He couldn't hide the smile from his face as they walked up the stairs. It was strange having the room to himself, sometimes it was good, when he had nightmares or when it was early in the morning and he couldn't sleep, he was glad no one was there with him. He could stay up drawing or painting or sketching or lay with his nightlight and not have anyone complaining.
But other times, he got too lonely and his own company could be frightening. Someone there in the dark would be good.
Dalton didn't want to take his arms away from (Y/n) when they walked into his room, it didn't feel right somehow to let her go even though he knew he needed to so they could go and sit down.
He tangled his fingers in the hair at the back of his head before he moved to sit down on his bed, unsure what to do or how to act or what to say now. But he didn't have to say anything. As he leaned back against the wall, (Y/n) took him by surprise and stood between his legs, staring at him like she was waiting for a sign, for him to encourage her or tell her to move away.
He dropped his hands before suddenly reaching out to hold her hips, hoping that was encouragement enough to tell her to carry on and do whatever she was thinking about. He could have cried in happiness when (Y/n) slowly crawled onto his lap and sat down on his legs, placing her knees on either side of his hips and looping her arms around the back of his neck. It allowed him to tighten his hands on her hips and tug her closer like he did earlier in the night, keeping her chest flush against his.
"Thank you for getting me out of there,"
"I'd do anything for you."
(Y/n) brushed her fingers against the back of his neck, feeling a shiver creep up beneath his skin before she leaned to capture his lips with hers.
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beefboyandbabygirl · 10 months
Text
Judas in the Window (18+)
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pairing: priest(apprentice)!chan x fem!collegestudent!reader
genre: ANGST ANGST and smut (mdni), childhood best friends to..?
description: you return home from college, after not seeing your old town for three years. your childhood best friend has been waiting for you.
warnings: no. genuinely so sad. religious guilt, blasphemy ig, slutshaming, degradation (f. receiving), praise (f. receiving), desperation, fingering (f. receiving), humiliation, unprotected sex (do not do this shit), brief breeding kink, mentions of past unhappiness, reader has beef with her old self fr, alcohol consumption, pet names (darling, baby, some more i dont recall), LOTS of biblical references, i warned you this is incredibly sad and wether it's a good ending is certainly debatable, reader has both her parents (if u dont, same, just imagine the dad as adam sandler and the mom as gwendoline christie), the dad is the best character x
quotes from my proofreader: "i have a new pair of panties at the ready", "im horny and angry, some say hangry", "AAAAAA"
wordcount: 8.3k
a/n: it is 2:30 am. my proofreader is asleep and i might go crazy if i dont post this now, so if there are any mistakes in the last part i am sorry, ill fix it later lmao
Your room hasn’t changed a bit.
You’re not sure why the sight knocks the wind out of you. You suppose you’d thought your parents might do something with it - maybe give your dad a “man cave” or whatever other pained, heteronormative solution to hating each other. But it’s the same exact thing. Your bed, horrible orange wood, pink princess sheets, and your desk right beside you where you stand in the doorway, all cluttered with glitter pens and marker sets and a small mirror. 
“Isn’t this great, honey?” your mom squeals, old hands squeezing your shoulders. It takes you a second to reply. You’re not even sure you want to step inside the room. “Yeah, yeah, it’s great, mom.” 
“I’m getting dinner ready, you just settle yourself in!” she says, practically vibrating at your presence. She’s so happy, it jabs at your stomach with guilt, that you can’t even bring yourself to enter. You watch her disappear down the stairs, making a funny face when she catches your eye. You half-smile tiredly. Then you’re looking at it again.
It’s like a totally closed off time capsule. Your fingers play with the doorframe, looking at the stains in the carpet, that you vividly remember creating as a clumsy child. You see the stickers on your closet-door, and the faint outline of the stickers you’d taken down. You see toys, whose names you remember, you see terrible drawings over your bed, hung with glitter tape, and you see yourself. The you that you were certain you’d stuck in the dirt and buried. The one you’d worked over-over-overtime to never see again. She was somehow alive and well in this room. A part of you roamed with a horde of anxiety, birthed by the thought that once you entered, you and her would fuse together, and all the flaws you’d had would be reignited, and you would be miserable again.
“You not going in, champ?” you jump at your father’s voice behind you. You turn to see him exiting your parents’ bedroom, taking heavy, loggy steps towards the staircase. You shake your head: “No, I am, it’s just..” you pause and turn back to the room, letting out a heavy sigh. “It’s weird.” 
Your father pauses. He has his reading glasses pushed all the way down to the tip of his nose, so he leans his head back and squints to study you. “Well- well- well, why don’t you just try out for a bit, champ, and if you don’t like it, Uh, well, we’ll situate you on the couch. How’s- how’s that sound?” 
You smile softly. “Sure.” 
“Alright, champ,” he pats your back and finally starts his descent down the stairs. 
You nod to yourself and exhale deeply, face now turned back to the super menacing not-at-all-menacing room before you. Your fears are deeply irrational. You wouldn’t just revert back to your old self. Once you’re half believing it, you finally break the barrier, and take a step inside. 
It’s not so bad after all. Everything is very still. Dust kicked up from your presence slows down around you. You’re standing under the overhead lamp, and it’s not that bad. Not so bad. You drop your duffel bag and sit down on your bed. 
You feel a lot bigger, sitting with bent knees in the plush duvet. You recognize that you can’t be that much bigger than when you last sat here, 18 years old, heading off to college in the big city. And this was the kind of town where neighbors a dozen houses over came to see you off, waving at you with big smiles on their faces, an american flag hoisted up to the blue sky. You remember the grins stretched on their faces, and how you’d been panicked to start the ignition on the car. They’d looked like they were made of wax.
Movement flashes in your peripheral. You turn your head, brushing hair out of the way. The movement is coming from the crack in the curtains. Like Moses parting the red sea, your fingers delicately brush the flimsy fabrics away. You know exactly what - who - you’re about to see. Your heart presses, red and wet, into your throat. 
Chan.
He’s there in the window directly across from yours. You almost don’t recognize him at first. He’s shirtless, pacing around and picking things off the floor, and, God, he’d gotten so big. His arms are so shapely and firm and his stomach is toned and when he turns his back to you, you see how it ripples with muscle, and your mouth is drooping open in shock. 
This is Chan, you try to remember (memories flit of him in his dad’s baseball caps, him on the playground, or on the sandy paths that fade out from the roads on the outskirts of town), but grounding yourself in the memories of him as a kid only serves to hurt you. No, you decide, eyeing his naked torso through the glass, better remember him like this. Like an adult who has faults and wrongs, not an innocent child that you abandon in your haste to grow up. 
He’s looking at you. Suddenly, he’s fucking looking at you. For a moment it seems like he’s confused, maybe fighting with the danger of recognizing you as a real, actual person in the window. Then his eyes are softened and he’s hunched over the paneled window, face split in half as he stares back at you. He used to fit so easily in the frame of that window - now you watch his shoulders press against the framework, unable to squeeze in. 
Your cheeks are burning when you squeeze your eyes shut and smile apologetically. Your childhood best friend who you hadn’t seen in three years had just caught you staring at his fucking abs through his window. You fear he’ll take offense, especially considering how you’d left things off with him, but when you open your eyes, he’s grinning softly and shaking his head. 
He walks away from the small window, and you take this as your cue to leave as well. You fall back on the bed and groan pathetically, body jittery with embarrassment. 
“Y/n, sweetheart! Dinner now!” your mom caws from the floor beneath you and you feel 16 again. This was what you didn’t want. All the power you had accumulated was slipping through your fingers by the minute. 
It’s just five days, you remind yourself. Just five, measly days.
“Coming, mom!”  _____________________________
The fucking bell tower is going. Over and over again and it shouldn’t be this loud, you’re not that close to the church, but it is. 
You lie flat on your back in the smoldering dark, completely still. It’s so loud it feels like it’s coming from inside your head. Like the curved, rusted sides of it are bashing against your skull. You don’t understand how anyone could sleep through this. You don’t understand how Chan could stay here all these years. Maybe that’s just because you couldn’t see yourself here.
You don’t want to think about Chan anymore, but for whatever reason - you can’t decide if it was seeing him (so manly) so suddenly, or if it’s the ever-ringing bell in the distance, like a marker of the apocalypse - he won’t leave your mind tonight. Part of you understood that what had happened with you and Chan was natural, and not particularly anyone’s fault. So why did you still carry the heavy burden of guilt? Guilt that pinched at your nerve endings like the delicate tunes in a children’s music box.
You and Chan had met as children in church. It didn’t take long for you to be best friends. You’d sit next to each other on the neatly lined benches during sermon, then you’d tumble in the grass outside, and then you’d go to his house and play until dinner, after which you’d see each other again, talking from window to window. You spent very nearly every moment with him.
Then you grew apart.
It was a slow death. Seeing each other became a sort of horrific reminder that it was ending, no longer bound by church or friendship, but a mutual understanding. There’d be a sort of solemn silence whenever you locked eyes. Is this the last time? You’d wonder, and the longer it went on, the more you started to wish that it was.
And then it was. 
It was your fault. You were 13 and suddenly you were wearing makeup and your dresses were getting shorter, and you wished you were much older than you were. You started forgetting the principles they’d taught you in church. Or maybe you’d never really learnt it, only tolerated it for Chan. But years passed and by the time you were sixteen, you were being kissed and groped at parties and you were having sex in cars and smearing your lipstick on the rims of shot glasses. 
And Chan was.. Well, Chan. Chan was a skinny, virgin christian. And you liked him, but suddenly there wasn’t much to talk about. From one day to the next, all discussable topics evaporated in your hand, and talking to Chan became a stumbling, bumbling mess. 
After that you were just…. Gone. 18 years old disappearing down the dirt roads in the 2009 Toyota Tacoma, that you’d gotten for your sweet sixteen. Chan was standing on the roadside that day, but he wasn’t sure you saw him. Your wheels kicked up dust and that was all you left behind. A cloud of sand for him to grab at, looking lost in between your tire tracks. At that moment it felt like those last years were two seconds. You just slipped right out of his hands. 
Lying in bed and your heart is so heavy. Maybe it isn’t Chan, you conclude. Maybe it’s what he represented. The face of the church; the face of goodness, of purity; the face of the life you deselected. 
The cry of the bell tower becomes a song in the night. You fall asleep in the devil’s hour. _____________________________
The following day you’re reexploring. The air is dry and the sun beating down on your shoulders. You’re walking through the suburbs and then later the small town square made up of mostly parking lots. You feel peregrine, but trudging through on the pavement, it becomes clear you’re the only one who feels this way. 
Every citizen, every single one of them - in polos, in flower-print dresses, in sandals, in sunglasses - stops you to welcome you back home. They’re shaking your shoulders and they recognize you and can tell you your name and your age, and they say that it’s good you found your way back. Every interaction leaves you more depressed than the last. You’re ducking your head, crumpled up like an unsent love letter. 
Your steps are heavy, your own sandals dragging into the uneven tiles of the square. Then you’re lifting your head from the ground, and your feet have betrayed you. 
You’re standing in the opening to another street of storefronts, and 5 rows of neatly planted trees down, the church sprouts from the earth like a stake. 
It’s not just any small town church. A few steps lead up to a plateau, supported by large, white beams. They may not be Roman, but they’re there, and they’re made of smooth concrete. The building itself is made of red brick, although the color varies and looks dappled. Each side of the church has two stained glass windows, which you remember from your childhood. The door, huge and oaken, ends in a point right beneath a round window, and the bell tower shoots up, a mighty cross at its peak. 
You’re left a little breathless at it. You don’t remember it being so menacing. But there’s also something beautiful about it. How it looks at you like it’ll kill you. And how blunt it is about it. You’re blinking at it and wondering how you got here. It’s as if something’s possessed you, because despite knowing better, you begin to take calm steps towards it, eyes transfixed and soulless. 
You’re walking into the courtyard, gravel underfoot, and then you’re traversing up the steps, fingers barely brushing over the railing. Idling forward, you’re opening the door. 
“And when Mary birthed the-” 
Crrrrreeeeeeeaaaaaaaaak!
Every head snaps towards you, as you’re cracking the door open, and the trance lifts from you. Oh, shit. Your gaze grazes over the stacked benches, smiling apologetically and bopping your head.
You clear your throat. “I’m-” 
You lock eyes with the priest, whose service you just interrupted, where he’s standing before the crowd, bible in hand.
It’s Chan. 
“I’m sorry,” you squeak, voice now much meeker, and you don’t even know what to do, so you just step inside and sit down on the nearest bench. Slowly (and with low scoffs) the sea of heads turn around. One pair of eyes don’t leave you though. Chan studies you for several seconds longer, searching for something in your eyes, but you’re looking away. You just want him to continue. He does.
This is crazy, you think, and you can hardly believe you’re hearing his voice say those words, and it’s him in the clerical shirt. You supposed it made sense. You supposed you understood. But actually you didn’t, not at all. Not when he was supposed to live and change and evolve and here he is years later, dedicating his life to the one and only thing he knows! 
You’re tuning out the rest of his talk, vaguely aware of how his eyes flit over to you a little too frequently. Soon enough you’re absently clasping your hands together in a prayer and then people are lining up to thank Chan for his stellar service. 
You watch them from your seat, debating whether or not to leave without talking to him. Leaving wasn’t a bad idea. You were only gonna be in town for a week more, surely, you could avoid him until then. 
But you know you won’t do that. You want to talk to Chan. You want to feel his hand in your own. Partially you felt like maybe you could save him from just being a decoration to this hellscape for the rest of his life. You’re not sure you could go on living your life, when you know he’s just back here - still here. 
So there you are, planted in the line and hoping to save him from some dull future, and he’s shaking hands and smiling, but you can see how he eyes you, coming up on the line. 
“Thank you, Chan,” you smile warmly, and his hand is grabbing yours and it’s so soft and so big. He’s smiling too. Then you’re coughing and correcting yourself: “Uh- Father. Chan.” 
He laughs at your sputtering, clapping your hand between his two: “Oh, thank you, sister.” Emphasizing with pursed lips and wide eyes. You laugh along a little, but it’s strained. 
His smile fades slowly, and his face relaxes. He wants to say more. His fingers are still pulling your hand to his, and you just keep shaking it, because if you stop, it’ll be weird. Officially. 
“Oh, do you two know each other?” A bobbed woman from behind you in line is purring, unfamiliar hand on your back, and she doesn’t wait for you to answer before she’s talking again: “So, how do you know each other?” 
“Childhood. Friends,” Chan stammers, almost looking at you for confirmation, and you’re nodding along when the woman “ah’s” and “ooh’s”. “Oh, that’s wonderful, you guys!” And then you’re listening to her talk about some trailer down in Cassandra, and how her brother is fixing it up with his old friend, but there’s water damage in the lining of the room, and it’ll mold if they’re not careful, and it’s such useless information, you’re wondering how you’ll ever forget it. 
“Mrs. Lark, uh, I think my,” he looks at you, lips pursed, “my friend here needs to go, so..” 
Mrs. Lark gasps, embarrassed: “Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right, I’m babbling,” and usually Chan would reassure her that she wasn’t, but he has more urgent matters on his hands. “Good day, Mrs. Lark!” he says and sends her off with a bright smile. There’s a few more people in line and Chan sighs a little. 
“Can you-” he’s a little sheepish, suddenly self conscious about the clergy shirt that grips his neck, “Can you wait? Here? Just until I’m done-” 
“Yeah,” you say. He smiles gratefully. 
Chatter continues behind you with a slight echo in the large room. You wait by one of the stained glass windows, arms around yourself as you stare up at it. Each and every window was a different biblical figure, made up of small shards of colored glass. You always found it strange, looking back, how your small town church had this grand artwork. The eyes of the window peer down at you.
“Judas,” Chan comments, planting himself beside you. His voice echoes slightly in the now empty church. The whole place is both too big and too small for the both of you. “It’s an interesting choice.” 
“What?” 
“Why you chose this window over any other,” Chan breathes, eyes darting down to you, and he’s looking at you very intensely. Then, it dissipates: “I’m also drawn to this one.” 
A pause.
“I wonder why they’d make this,” you quip, feeling small beside him. “I think whoever made this wanted all sides of Jesus’ story illustrated,” Chan says. You shrug. “If it were me, I wouldn’t.” 
Chan tilts his head to the side and looks at you again. Your cheeks burn, so you smile a little cheekily. “Was that not the right thing to say?” 
Chan’s smile is gentle and bemused - almost adoring. “There’s nothing you can say in here that is wrong.” 
“I don’t think that’s true,” you laugh and Chan follows along. “Oh, you don’t?” You’re both laughing together, glee filling the crevices of the holy place, while Judas eyes you from the window. Your laughter dies down again, and when the silence returns, your heart clenches nervously. There’s a beat. 
“You keep busy?” you ask and the two of you are now facing each other. He sighs and nods, looking around. “Yeah, yeah, I got a.. Like a church get-together thing in, like, two days. I’ll be.. Preaching."
“Preaching,” you repeat, smile a little too tight. You wish you could say he didn’t notice. “Big Mr. Priest..” 
He laughs: “Technically I’m a priest apprentice,” he says, arms crossing over his chest. You roll your eyes. “So humble.” 
“What about you? Keep busy?” 
“Yeah, college,” you sigh. “You done?” he asks and you shake your head. “I wish.” 
His expression softens until he’s frowning. You want to squirm under his gaze, only because he looks so sincere and worried and you haven’t seen each other in three years. “You look tired.” 
“That’s not-” you begin, covering the slight ache in your heart with a laugh, “I just- Couldn’t sleep last night.”
“I thought living in the big city had you sleeping like a rock when you got to our quiet town,” he teases with a half-smile.
You shake your head, looking upwards at the ceiling. “It was that bell tower, just ringing, all night.” You shrug. Chan’s brows furrow and he looks up as well, as if he’d be able to see it through the tile roof. 
“The…” he trails off, sounding lost, “The bell tower doesn’t ring at nig-” 
Beep! Beep!
“Shit- sorry!” you curse, when your phone goes off loudly. Chan stands still studying you, while you squint at your phone. “I think- I think I gotta go.” 
“Uh, yeah, sure,” he coughs, index finger rubbing over his taut knuckles. You’re pushing your phone into your back pocket again, when he reaches an arm out to you. “Uh-” he pulls back self-consciously, “Would you want to-.. Maybe, come to dinner at my place? Tomorrow?” 
You’re a little taken aback, looking at him with a softly open mouth for a moment. “Uh,” you fight back a wide smile, “Yeah, sure. I’d- I’d like that.” 
“Great,” Chan smiles too and nods. “Just- just at the house right next door, or?-”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s that one. Still,” Chan blushes breathlessly. You chuckle awkwardly. “Okay.” 
“Okay. See you then.”  _____________________________
You’re not sure why the prospect of having dinner with Chan has you so nervous. And it is just a dinner, you remind yourself, as you’re picking out your dress, just two friends catching up. After some 45 minute debate you pick out a pretty sundress.
You’d like to think there’s more to it than just the fact that Chan is suddenly very pretty and muscular. Maybe it’s the chance to make a wrong right. Maybe it’s to find out who this boy is, that was a key part of your life for so many years. Maybe you think you can change him.
Either way you’re just waiting for it all day, ignoring your dad trying to lure you out with trick shots from your garage. “HIYA!” he screams, throwing ping pong balls at your window all afternoon.
At 6:30 PM you’re standing at his door and hoping you don’t look too dolled up. His house also looks mostly identical to your memory of it. There’s something off about it though, and you study it momentarily, only to realize the front garden has overgrown. The grass comes up jagged and sharp, and the bushes bulge over the fence gate, brushing you when you waddle inside. You click the doorbell, wait a few seconds, and then begin to suspect that it didn’t work. Then you knock and you hear him fumbling around inside: “Coming!” 
He opens the door (with some struggle), and then you’re standing before each other. He’s so domestic, in a striped, brown sweater and dark blue jeans, and curly hair is framing his face like a crown. 
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
He gives you a once over, smiling shyly: “You look great.” 
“Thank you,” you bow a little, “you too.” 
Then he’s letting you inside and you’re kicking off your shoes haphazardly, while he fusses back to the kitchen. “I made bolognese, if you don’t mind!” he calls and when you enter into the living space, he’s stirring a pan vigorously. You giggle a little, smile falling at the sight of a cross on the wall behind you. “Uh, yeah, of course.” 
Slurping tomato-sauced pasta and drinking a half-expensive wine that Chan had bought, you two laugh together. You mostly talk about when you were kids, then he’s talking about joining the church and you’re talking about college. 
“Is it hard? Out there?” Chan slurs a little, both of you tipsy and warm from the wine, having moved to the couch after eating. Now, full and face burning hot, you’re looking at each other differently. Chan’s got one arm on the couch rest, the other swirling the wine in his glass. He’s smirking a little and you hate how hot he is.
“It’s.. Exciting,” you counter, a little confused at his tone. He's close enough to radiate warmth onto you, when his eyes dip down to your lips for a second. “Yeah. You like exciting,” he drinks down the rest of his wine and sets the glass on the couch table. The moon, that’s been slowly traversing the star-speckled sky, gives the glass a faint halo. Chan basks in the moonlight, half lit and half shadowed. 
“I do. I do like exciting,” you giggle dumbly, still unsure where he’s steering the conversation. Chan smiles adoringly, because there you are sitting all blushing and warm in a sundress on his couch. The warmth disappears from his eyes then. 
“Was it exciting to watch me undress?” 
Oh.
Shit. 
You almost spit out a half-drunken sip of wine, gulping it down painfully and shaking your head. You set the glass down. “Chan! I’m-” you’re scrambling, “I’m really, really sorry. I- I was just- It wasn’t about your body, I was thinking about-” 
“Shut up.” 
Your mouth falls agape at his tone, offended and caught off guard. He’s still beside you, eyes much sharper than you remember, much colder. “Stop treating me like I’m still a kid.” 
“Well, you haven’t changed much, Chan,” you scoff. 
“Yeah, that’s why you were looking at me through your fucking window,” he scoffs as well, “because I haven’t changed.” 
You sit in quiet disbelief, trying to stay mad when his face is so pretty and so close to yours, and his jaw is clenched and his cheeks are flushed from the wine. You’re deciding whether to spit back or diffuse the situation. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m sorry.” 
The hand that was previously holding his glass lands on your knee. He leans in even further and you smell the sour air of wine on his breath. You shudder under his touch when he whispers: “I want you to be honest with me.” 
You’re looking up at him with wide eyes, heart beating in your chest like nails being knocked into wood. “Tell me what you want from Father Chan,” he muses, smirking slightly, while his thumb brushes back and forth on your knee. 
You’re completely out of breath and squeezing your thighs together, as slick begins to build up in your panties. “Come on,” he encourages, “Let it out. Tell Channie what you want.” 
“I want,” you’re shaking in humiliation, gaze cast onto the floor, “I want you to touch me.” 
“Come again?” he teases, grinning.
“Please touch me, Chan.” 
“There you go,” he mutters and finally gives in, hand brushing the skirt of your dress up your thighs, until your white, cotton panties are visible to him. The sight of you is so pornographic, he groans and dips his head into your neck. “Spread your legs for me, baby.” 
And you do, one of them drooping over his legs, while the other bends on the couch beside you. You’re already so worked up, because Chan is so beautiful and you never, ever thought you’d experience him like this. “Shh, shh, calm down, pretty girl,” he kisses your temple, as his fingers brush over your clothed core.
“Baby,” he tuts disapprovingly, “you’ve soaked through your panties.” 
You can only whine as his fingertips ghost along your dripping slit, and he’s nosing into your cheek like a big puppy. “‘M sorry,” you hiccup, and he grins and kisses your lips tenderly. “So polite for me.” 
He finally dips his hand into your panties, fingers rubbing circles into your pussy. You’re mewling and thrashing into his chest, basking in the sound of his strangled moan, when you thrash the leg in his lap and brush over his hard cock. 
His fingers move lower to dance along your slit and you grab his wrist strenuously. He hums a little. “Gonna put my fingers in your pussy and my tongue in your mouth now,” he’s mumbling and you can’t tell if he’s telling you or himself, but either way he does as promised, two fingers plunging into your sopping wet heat, while he dips his tongue in your hot mouth.
You're moaning into his lips. He’s kissing you so sloppily, spit spilling down both of your chins, and noses rubbing together, breathing scorching air into each other. His fingers are pumping in and out of you, then curling into that sweet spongy spot inside you. 
“Fuck!” you cry when he pulls away breathlessly, “so, so, so good. Chan- Chan, fuck!”
Your orgasm is building up in your stomach, with a pleasure that is simultaneously torturous. He’s looking at you so intensely, you feel like you might unravel under his gaze. “Fuck, Channie.”
“Yeah? You feel good?” he pauses his words, still curling his fingers in and out of you. His next words are somewhat uneasy: “Is this better than those other guys?” 
“Huh?” you mumble, chest arching and his mouth is watering at how inviting it is. “Back then,” he says, and it finally clicks what he’s talking about. 
“Pussy so good no wonder they all wanted a piece of you, hm? Such a slut,” he’s rambling now, fingers plunging in and out of you impossibly fast, while his other hand splays over your stomach, thumb tapping your clit. You cry out in ecstasy, unable to form coherent words to respond with.
“But you’re my slut, right?” His voice is raspy and right next to your ear. The thumb tapping your clit begins to rub circles into it. “Y/n,” he’s suddenly very serious, “say you’re my slut.” 
“I’m-” your voice crack in humiliation, cheeks fiery and eyes squeezed shut, “I’m your slut!” 
“That’s right,” he pants, trying to stop his hips from bucking into your calf. “And my slut is gonna cum on my fucking fingers right now.” 
Your orgasm feels otherworldly - maybe godly - and your whole body shakes in his hold, chest bouncing in his face and moans melodic in his living room. Chan works you through it, finally pulling his fingers out when your hands weakly push at his own.
You’re sighing heavily with hair messy and teased, slumped back on his couch. “Holy shit,” you say, grinning from ear to ear, completely dazed. Chan is watching you with a proud smirk and a tent the size of Texas in his pants. 
A thought strikes you then, and your grin is fading and your brows are furrowing. “Wait- Wait, Chan? Where are your parents?” you ask suddenly, sitting up and straight and pulling your dress down hastily. You snap your head around self-consciously. 
“Relax! Relax!” he laughs, “They don’t live here anymore, I bought the house from them, like, six months ago.” 
Your jaw drops. You wait just a second, hoping to catch a cheeky glint in his eyes, that might tell you he’s joking. You find nothing but blackness.
“You bought the house?” 
Chan looks at you quizzically, shrugging. “Yeah, I mean, they wanted to move, you know, see new things and I.. I just. Didn’t.” 
You can hardly fucking believe your ears.
“Chan!” you cry, frustration blooming in your chest and pounding in your head. “Why did you buy the fucking house? You’re gonna spend the rest of your life paying off the fucking mortgage, and you’re never gonna get out of here!” you shout, flailing your arms at his absurdity.
Chan narrows his eyes at you. “Sorry, city girl, we don’t all wanna pack up and live in a closet space for three years-” 
“Wha- Chan, this is not about me! How can you just.. Surrender to this place?” you shout and suddenly he’s raising his voice too. “Surrender?” he repeats, spitting it back at you.
“Yeah! Jesus, even your fucking parents wanted to leave, Chan. But you’re just- You’re gonna live out the rest of your life in this shithole and be some sort of- of priest?!” 
“I can’t believe you right now,” he stands up from the couch, and you follow suit. “In what world do you have the morality to come in here and tell me what I’m doing wrong?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you scoff, crossing your arms. 
Your voices are echoing in the empty house, wine glasses and sauced plates standing idly on the tables nearby. Your silhouettes are confined to the large living room window, standing on either side of the moon. 
“You know what that means, Y/n,” he laughs bitterly. “No, please, tell me,” you invite him challengingly, wondering (or perhaps fearing) whether or not he’d actually go there. He prods at his cheek with his tongue, and hesitates.
“You were a fucking slut, Y/n.” His voice is quieter, maybe ashamed. Tears sting at your eyes, when you look at him incredulously. How could you think you knew this man? How could you think there was anything left to salvage? 
“Fuck you, Chan,” you spit, spinning around before the tears can fall. He says nothing, just stands alone in his living room while you dash out his door, hands wrapping around himself. 
Exiting his house into the cool, summer air, you realize one thing. The bell tower had been the call of the apocalypse.  _____________________________
You were the walls of Jericho that night, crying and tumbling in your childhood sheets, muffling your cries in the fear that he’d hear through his creaked open window. What was this pain, you couldn’t decide. Was it how he stayed steadfast or how you metamorphosed, dying only to return once again? 
In the morning, you’re dull and gray. You’re drinking coffee out of your dad’s old tourist shop mug from a visit to Niagara Falls, sitting at the dining table with puffy eyes. Your mom eyes you worriedly from the counter, leaning into your dad to whisper not-so-discreetly. 
“Sweetheart, you wanna go with us to church today? They’re having this whole event, the kids’ choir will be there!” she suggests gently and you just want to shrug off all her affection. 
“No,” you deadpan. Your mom gives your father a look. He sighs. 
“Alright, champ, that’s- that’s your choice,” he nods, mustache scrunching up when he pouts. You sigh, feeling like an asshole. “Sorry, I just-” 
“Don’t apologize, sweetheart, you just rest!” your mom shushes you, scrambling around the kitchen, ever in the hunt for some lost appliance. “All that college must wear you out, you should rest while you can, hm?” 
They’re gone by noon. You sit in the shadowed corner of your bed, avoiding the strip of light that dances across your room from the crack in the curtain. 
You’re bored, scrolling on your phone, cheek puffed up against your pillow, when it slips out of your hands and hits the floor with a loud bump. You groan, feeling like the whole world is against you today, and throw your arm off the bed to grab at it on the floor. 
It’s halfway under the bed, and when your fingers finally remark the smooth surface, they brush against something else. It’s hard and it feels dirty. You lift your head to look and tug it out.
It’s your diary. 
Phone long forgotten, you lift it carefully, like an old relic, and push open the faded pink cover. You feel like you’re about to snap in half, when your eyes survey the graphite-smudged pages of your horrible, horrible handwriting. The pages emanate a mysterious air that has you leaning back in your seat.
You’re skimming through angst entries, that has you cringing and wanting to put it down, before you freeze suddenly, inhaling sharply at the scribbled out words before you.
‘3. august 2016
God, I miss Chan.’
The words come with the promise of stinging tears in your eyes.
“Fuck you,” you whisper angrily at the page, because you’re crying again, and you close the book and hold onto yourself so tightly that it hurts. “Fuck that. Fuck this.” 
It’s perhaps the worst feeling you’ve ever felt. It’s anger, it’s sadness, it’s humiliation, it’s confusion. How did it end like this, you think. It would be so much easier if you were kids again. If he was that dorky kid from your church, who wore his father’s baseball caps and had chubby little hands when he prayed. You can do it better, you think miserably, if you get another chance. But you don’t. 
For about fifteen minutes, you curl into yourself and wait for the feeling to go away. It doesn’t. The heavy weight of realization pools in your stomach when you realize you might carry this with you for the rest of your life if you don’t do something. It doesn’t have to end like this.
Suddenly you’re light as a feather, grabbing your jacket and your keys and sprinting out the door and down the street. The cross atop the spire watches you run to it, awaiting you ominously.  _____________________________
You’re disheveled and pulled apart when you arrive at the gathering, and for once the townspeople look at you like you’re out of place. You’re late, you know, because people are taking their leave, scattering and dissolving towards the town square, and the entertainment (the kids’ choir), all robed in white, are marching away together. 
You’re panting, stumbling further into the church garden, jumping at the sound of grills being closed and rolled away onto the pavement. 
“Y/n?” Chan can hardly believe his eyes, when he sees you standing between a bed of lilies. You turn around and see him, melting a little at how tired and sad he looks. “I can’t believe you came,” he whispers, a little sparkle of hope in his gaze. You smile fondly, “Me neither.” 
Chan moves to embrace you, but freezes when he suddenly remembers where you are. “Uh, I can’t, I have to-” he stammers, scrambling for a solution, for something better than turning you away, when you’re here, close enough for him to hold. He looks around, gaze following the churchgoers as they pass through the gates, before he’s bopping his head down to whisper to you again: “Go into the church. I’ll be with you in a second.” 
You walk through that heavy, wooden door, and when it closes behind you the scrambling of metal and people and footsteps and crying children is gone. With the door, you’re sealed in here, with whatever fate follows.
All the light in the church is filtering through the stained glass windows, and once again you find yourself drawn to him. Judas. 
Part of you would expect such an artwork to depict Judas as greedy and grim, as glutinous and gloomy; that he would be hunched over with a pouch of shillings, giggling at his evildoing. But the Judas in the window is so.. Sad. 
He’s blue and gray and his eyebrows are upturned and for the life of you, you can’t figure out how the unknown artist must have managed to portray such despair in glass. You stand in the middle of his reflection on the floor, all blue and gray yourself, and you’re not sure it’s really because of the light.
That’s all the church inhabits at that moment. You and Judas, and your shallow breaths, and the stirring of dust in the air. There’s nothing holy in there with you. Just you and him.
You hear the door open to your right. You know it’s Chan, somehow you can just feel it. He must sense something in the air, because he says nothing, just walks up to stand beside you, and only then do you speak again.
“I always felt a bit like Judas,” you muster a breath.
Chan pauses and you can feel him looking at you. “Me too.” 
You furrow your brows, and finally look up at him, and there he is in his clerical shirt and his matching pants, his right cheek glowing bright blue. The whole room is so heavy, you lean against the bench behind you. 
“That’s not.. That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”
Chan doesn’t ask you to elaborate. He understands. “God made it that way,” he’s nodding with a pained expression on his face, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself. You laugh a little and hate how much love you feel, when Chan half-smiles at the sound.
“God.. Yeah,” you half-gesture to the sky and Chan giggles. Then you’re both quieting down again. “I can’t tell if it was you or God I turned my back on,” you say and you’re looking at Judas again, and how one, jagged hand holds onto his chest.
“Maybe it was both,” Chan says and there’s this unreadable expression on his face. You’re laughing again, cheeks apple-round. “I’m pretty sure it’s blasphemous to compare yourself to God.” 
“Yeah?” he laughs, “I think so too.” You’re looking at him again when he’s gulping hard and the joy drains from his face. A small frown curve his lips. “I’m sorry about yesterday, you know.” You look away.
“Me too,” you say. Chan can’t help the way his heart leaps when, without sparing him a glance, you grab his hand in yours and squeeze it. He squeezes back.
He gasps painfully and when you turn to him again, he’s choking back tears, face turning red. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out. “I just wish… Fuck, I mean, we’re too different, aren’t we?” 
You nod. “We are.” 
“When are you leaving?” 
You smile disingenuously, hoping it’ll cheer him up. It doesn’t.
“Tomorrow.” 
Chan is crying, there’s no denying it now, no chalking it up to sniffles. Tears, turning yellow from the sun behind Judas’ back, trail down his cheeks and he wipes them aggressively, but they just keep coming. Deep, despaired moans bounce off the ceiling and walls of the church.
“Can I-?” Chan begins, unable to form words between his heart-rattling sobs. “I just- I need to-” 
“Yes,” you say, and there’s not a single doubt in your mind, that this is what you both want, as you take a step forward and pull his lips into yours. 
Chan’s lips taste like every color of Judas, of blue, of yellow, of gray, of green. Salt hits your tongue when his tears trail down to where you’re connected, and he’s still crying into the kiss, hands finding your waist and clutching so, so hard. 
“Please don’t cry,” you whisper in between kisses, “you’re gonna make me cry.” 
“I’m sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t stop. He’s too caught up in memorizing the way your body feels under his hands, the way you’re moving against him, the way you’re pulling him by the collar of his clerical shirt, and how your nose feels shoved into his. 
His warm hands slide your shirt upwards, burning against your newly exposed skin. You pull away only to tug it over your head. Chan whimpers when he sees your chest, cupped by your bra and he pulls you into his chest to unhook the back, head looming over your shoulder. Ear pressed to his neck, you can feel the way it contracts, when he hiccups. 
As soon as he’s done, straps sliding gently down your arms, you’re pouncing on each other again, lips meeting rhythmically in the blued sunlight. Blindly, you’re unbuttoning his clerical shirt, fingers shaking against his chest. His hands clasp over yours soothingly, urging you to slow down. 
The whole ordeal is strangely silent, even Chan has stopped crying now, and the only sounds filling the church are the brush of fabric and your muffled moans into each other’s mouths. You’re whining though, when his shirt finally pushes off his shoulders and his torso is right in front of you and under your hands. 
You whimper at the sight alone, running your hands over his arms and over his chest down to his abs. Chan smirks at you. “I knew you liked it,” he mumbles to himself, almost childishly. 
This comment slows you down, as you’re pulling back to laugh, and you’re both shirtless in front of each other, hearts huge and glowing. Chan smiles at you adoringly while you laugh, face scrunched up and eyes crescents. 
“You can’t say that when I’m trying to fuck you,” you say finally, hair a mess on your head and lips pursed to keep yourself from laughing again. Chan loves your dumb face. He takes your hands in his and rubs the palms with his thumbs. “I know.” 
“Can I-?”
“Yes,” you whisper, agreeing before he can even get it out. Chan nods and holds you, gently guiding you onto the floor, where your entire body is marbled by the light hitting the glass. Chan stands over you for a moment. 
“You’re just gonna stare at me?” you joke, but your arms are sneaking their way up your torso. “Yeah,” Chan responds, but he’s already kneeling down in front of you, moving your arms away. 
“You are so beautiful,” he says it as if it almost pains him, but he’s straddling you and fumbling with your jean-buttons, beginning the tedious task of peeling them off your legs. You want to say something snarky, but he has you breathless and blushing, all you can muster is a meek: “Thank you.” 
He looks up from his work on your jeans at that, smiling at you fondly. 
You kick your jeans off your legs, while he begins to undo the buckle of his own pants, shoving them down his legs at the first opportunity. You’re both almost naked, you in your panties and him in his boxers, and you’re wondering why he’s showing no signs of moving them off you, dick hard and scorching fucking hot against your clothed core. Then he plants his arms on either side of your head, and rolls his hips into yours.
The moan you let out is coming from deep in your fucking soul. Only something godly could pull that out, you decide, sopping fucking wet from the star-like heat it has against you. “You sound so pretty,” he whimpers and does it again. Then again and again and again, and you’re arching your back and the both of you are moaning and groaning, filling the church with humidity. 
“Chan,” you muster, sounding on the verge of tears. His head is lowered onto your breasts, panting hard into the impossibly soft skin. “I-Inside. Now.” 
Chan wants to say something sexy, but he’s so desperate for you, that all he can manage is: “I agree.” 
He’s scrambling wildly to tear his boxers off and you do the same, lifting your hips to remove your drenched panties from your core. When you’re left bare, he lets out a choked moan, because immediately your hole clenching and gushing slick onto the tiled floor. The church floor, no less. 
“So fucking beautiful, and mine. Belongs to me,” he babbles, eyes wounded, but fingers spreading your folds open, as he lowers his head to remark on them. You mewl, fingers clawing at his shoulders. “Miss you,” you squall and he looks up at your face again. “Okay,” he responds, body moving back up to your face. Then he mutters against your lips: “Miss you too.” 
He’s kissing you again, so warm and wet in your mouth and humming into you. You claw at his back and whine wildly, when his hand steers his dick through your folds, lubricating itself in your plentiful wetness. 
He pulls away and you chase after him with sorrowful eyes. “I need to see your face when I push in,” he explains very sincerely, and you somehow understand that, yes, he needs to see it. You nod.
Then he’s pushing into you. He bursts through your gates, all thick and veiny and totally raw against the walls of your pussy. He’s slow, studying your face tenderly for any signs of discomfort, even when he grimaces from the euphoric feeling. And God, your face is so perfect, all scrunched up and twisted in pleasure, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut. He will remember it forever.
He’s rocking in and out of you, and it’s slow, and it’s love, and it’s mature, and you’re moaning simultaneously, foreheads pressed together, as he fucks you into the floor. 
“Are you close, darling?” he pants against your cheek and you nod, because you are. Because it feels like your body has been working its way up to this final point, and every other milestone has just been a hillpeak on the way to a mountain. “Yes, yes, yes, I am.” 
“Good, so good for me,” he’s speeding up just a little bit, working the two of you closer and gaining leverage from his bruising grip on your hips. Your hand slides up his neck, from where he’s nuzzled into the side of your nose, and you whisper breathlessly in his ear: “Please cum inside, please, please.” 
And Chan’s head spins at that, thrusting so hard you’re entire body jerks. You, all filled with his kids, all soft and big stomached. The thought has his thrusts - now quite swift - becoming sloppy and has him spurting cum. You come at the feeling of him spurting inside you, spluttering you full of white seed, so much that it’s spilling out at the base of his cock. 
You’re both stilling, bodies expanding eagerly for air, and he’s still so close to you, still inside you, still buried in your hair, nose huffing breaths into your ear. The church is so painfully quiet, you begin to hear your own heartbeat. This was it. This was the narrow end. There was no other way. 
Lying your head on the tile and tilting it, so your eyes dance over the floor beneath you, you realize that Judas is no longer the artwork, no longer the masterpiece: It’s you and Chan on the floor, arching into each other and bathed in his light. To an unknowing outsider, the expressions you carry would also seem misplaced, just like Judas had to you. But you both know, still clinging onto each other like angels that flutter from the sky and into hell, that it was because of the end you had ensured for each other.
“I love you.” 
Chan whispers the words into your neck, voice thick. You realize he’s crying again, because you feel burning hot tears dribble down your neck, and his shoulders are shaking. You curl your arms around him.
“I know. I’m sorry. I love you too.” 
347 notes · View notes
avenging-fandoms · 1 year
Note
IM HERE B.
can you imagine rafe's face when he finally gets the response from you caving into him?
he'd pick up his phone, seeing the text from you.
"your place or mine?" he'd smirk, thinking he's got you wrapped around his finger.
"how about mine? i'll pick you up so no one suspects anything?"
"fine, but don't make me wait too long"
"alright, on my way"
he'd be in his car INSTANTLY, since you sent him your address already.
you started to get ready since your house was only a short distance to his. you were contemplating whether or not to wear cute lingerie since its rafe fucking cameron. you tried to keep your cool but then you heard his car pull up, your memories of last friday are back in your mind and you're down the stairs and out the door. you told you mom you were going out to a party so she didn't suspect anything.
rafe was just sitting in his jeep, with the radio down low but you could still hear his music, he was looking down at his phone but when he saw you, he smiled instantly, which was odd, even for him.
"hi princess, miss me?" he'd look at you, still smiling at you.
"i could never miss you, rafe" you'd joke, placing your bag down at your feet.
he'd look at you, before reversing out of your driveway. the drive was silent, but not too long before you arrived at tannyhill.
"no one's home, so we can enjoy ourselves" rafe would break the silence, smirking at you, before turning off the ignition and hopping out of the car. you'd also hop out, staring at the gorgeous house in front of you.
"what have i gotten myself into?" you'd question yourself, already feeling flustered at the situation.
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part one part two part three <- (you are here) part four
series playlist
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"Why?! What the fuck are you doing?" You paced your room, phone in hands as you wished you could unsend a message.
Rafe: How about my place. So I don't park my very recognizable Jeep outside your house where people I know live in the neighborhood and risk getting caught.
Yn: fine. but if you make me wait more than an hour i'm blocking you.
Rafe: See you soon, princess.
You screamed into your pillow. You stood up and headed to your closet, pulling out a tennis skirt and a shirt that showed your boobs perfectly. Your eyes move to your drawer where your lingerie pieces sat. You opened the drawer and looked over the different materials and colors, quickly closing it with your hip.
Rafe had to earn those.
You decided on an outfit, sitting on your bed with your leg crossed over the other as you tried to calm your nerves, but all you thought about was his big hands all over your body. Your phone dung that he was here and you roll your eyes, exhaling quickly before heading out of your room.
"Where are you going all cute?" Your mom asks and you smile, adjusting your purse on your shoulder.
"A party with Ava, It's a tennis theme I guess? I don't know, you know the people she knows" Your mom laughs and tells you to be safe, and you close the door behind you.
There he was, Rafe Cameron, in your driveway. His elbow leaned on his window, his face illuminated by his phone. His music wasn't loud, but you could still faintly understand some words. You took a couple steps down and his head popped up, a smile on his face.
He didn't get out, just unlocked the door. "Princess.. how much did you miss me?" He locked his phone, looking at you quickly before shifting the gear to reverse, foot on the brake.
"Oh, more than anything in the world, Rafe Cameron" You reply sarcastically, Rafe looking you up and down as you bend over to put your bag in between your feet. He reverses out of your driveway, and you inhale sharply as you watch his hand as he turns the wheel, his palm flat on it with his veins popping and ring on full display.
The car ride was quiet. Not that uncomfortable silence that makes you want to tuck and roll on the freeway, but the comfortable silence where you're both in your own thoughts and you're comfortable with one another.
You were always in awe of Tannyhill. Rafe put the car in park, unbuckling his seatbelt. "No one's home, so we can enjoy the whole place to ourselves" Rafe lost the quiet game and you nod, grabbing your bag as he shuts off the ignition and you stand behind him. "Ready?"
He holds out his hand. High five? No, then he'd just get you an Uber. You grabbed his hand and he smiled, taking you into the mansion. Everywhere you looked, you saw a visual of you and Rafe on top of it.
"What have I gotten myself into?"
"Want anything to drink, princess?" Rafe asks and you shake your head, grabbing his shirt and bringing him down to kiss you. "Where?"
"Anywhere, Rafe, just fuck me"
He was wrapped around your finger already, and he was fucked.
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thrasheraxe · 6 months
Text
mustaine x trans masc reader
req:3 dave ask who cheered!! im not a dave main but i tried my best
the prompt i was given waaaas
“late 80s dave and a groupie have a quickie in the dressing room between megadeth’s main set and the encore”
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between the loud cheers of the audience outside and the bumbling about of drunkards in the dressing room, you were not even sure if you should have come here. megadeth were huge and it was a miracle you had even got into the after party.
the crowd cheering for an encore didn’t go unnoticed by you, you sigh and sink back into the couch you’d taken residence in for the last two hours.
swiftly interrupted by dave bashing his way in through the door, weaving around the drunkards in an adrenaline fuelled frenzy. looking for the first person he could get his hands on and use for his own desires.
groupies. unaffectionately called by others but to him, objects. objects of his possession that he could get anything he wanted from. he’d even taken to making a mental list of his conquests but noticing you, the small meek figure slumped on the couch like it was gonna consume you at any moment. it intrigued him.
“you.”
he said it so simply, with force. a cocky grin splayed across his face, he had no time to waste, grabbing you by the arm and leading you into the room over, conveniently empty.
without a word, somehow you’re lifted and pushed down onto a table, not a sound indicating whether you were for or against this.
“hello sweetheart, haven’t seen you around before. just gonna use you while i have a few minutes.”
you look at him dazed, blood running with adrenaline but you decided to make this a game. it was your first time in a situation like this and you wanted the control. to see your mighty idol crumble before your eyes.
“no.”
“excuse me? what did you say?” he chuckled and raised a brow, eager hands reaching for the buttons on your jeans. you make no attempt to stop him but just look at him, not displaying any discernible emotion, unlike the usual groupie who would practically beg to be in your position.
“no. i’m okay thanks”
he laughed and shook his head, looking down at you with intensity as if your protest was fuelling the fire further.
“you’re a funny one, but don’t lie to me now. this is what you’re here for no? to get me off, to make your favourite musician feel good?”
he slides down your jeans, taking his time to run his fingers down your thighs tenderly squeezing at them.
“im quite alright thank you, i don’t give out to those who don’t ask.” your voice steady, a softness to it but not in a way he’d seen before. he was impressed.
“awww come on pretty, don’t act like that you know you want it.”
he hooks his finger around the middle of your underwear pushing it aside and baring all of you. the slick in between your folds dripping down, betraying what was coming out of your mouth.
“i-“
“knew it, look at that pretty pussy, dripping just for me. i’ll be honest i don’t have a lot of time, so are you gonna help me out or not?” his face curved into a devilish smile. pulling himself out and prepping with a few strokes, his throbbing cock almost pointing at you.
“beg for it.” your voice confident but your body squirming slightly.
“the fuck did you just say to me?”
“i said, beg for it. surely you know how to ask nicely?”
he broke out in laughter and pulled your underwear down completely. ripping them off your ankles and chucking them to the side. shaking his head as if it was completely preposterous what you were asking.
“oh you want me to beg for it do you? you want me to get on my knees? tsk. i had you pinned down for a difficult one but i thought you would’ve caved a lot sooner.”
he leaned down and whispered into your ear
“but ill give you what you want, alright? and then heres whats gonna happen, im going to fuck the shit out of you, so hard you’ll never forget how i feel. absolutely ruin you for anyone else, all in a few minutes. and you’re going to take it like a good boy.”
he tilts his head and bites at your neck harshly, sucking the tender skin there, drawing the blood to the surface and marking you deeply. he leans back up and looks down at you with a smirk, almost laughing at your whimpering state.
doe eyed, you look up at him, goosebumps on your skin and hair raised as his words have its effect on you. you keep your poker face, but every time he touched you sounds spilled out as if you weren’t in control of your own body.
he trails his hands down you patiently, groping at your chest, then your hips, a little firmer there and then finally your thighs. swiftly, to your surprise, he buries two fingers deep inside you. he leans down again, lips trailing from your neck to ear before whispering
“please baby, let me fuck you, wanna cum in that pretty pussy so bad…so bad…fuck… you’re so hot. wanna fuck you till you can’t walk, i need it so fucking bad.”
embarrassingly that all it took for you to be gripping his hair and begging him to fuck you. whining and grabbing st his shoulders.
“fuuuuuck, so fucking needy aren’t you? ‘m gonna fuck you so hard, thats what you want hm? bet you’ve been thinking about this all day, praying id choose you. pathetic.”
before you even have a chance to process what he was saying he slips his fingers out of you, lining up and frantically thrusting inside. without a care for your need to adjust, relentlessly chasing his own high.
the burn was overwhelmingly good, slicked enough to take it but you weren’t quite prepared for the actuality. his deep grunts and growls piercing your eardrums as he held you down by one hip and the other groping you wherever he could reach. your chest, your other hip pushing you further, slamming his own against you.
the table underneath you shaking with his strength and the filthy sounds of the mess at where you joined would surely be heard by passing partygoers. your own sounds growing louder as he thrusted impossibly deep, hitting right at the sweet spot.
“yeahh taking my fat cock so good, letting it split you open and just letting me use you as i please. so pretty like this. fuck.”
his movements become more rapid and desperate as you whine, clawing at his back and scratching deep marks down it, something he’d remember you by.
“d-dave…i-i..”
“thats right pretty boy, cum on me, make a mess all over this dick. let me feel it while i fill you” he growled in your ear, rutting his hips faster, so close to his own breaking point.
you gasp as you feel the sensation build in your stomach, fuzziness travelling down your thighs and up to your head as you moan loudly, calling his name over and over and over again.
you squeeze your thighs around him in a desperate attempt to pull him closer somehow as if it could even be possible. tipping over your edge and cumming hard making an utter mess.
he’s not far behind and as he feels you clench down on him, he lets out a growl that could only be described as heavenly as he let himself go. his fingers digging into your hips as he came hard, filling you up and even in the aftershock of it all he was still just fucking his cum into you, making sure you felt every last part.
he pulled out of you, smirking and pulling his jeans back up, hearing the crowd still chanting for encore as you were sat there half naked and completely fucked out, thighs still shaking.
he raises his brow and shakes his head before speaking in a cocky tone.
“you better hope i don’t see you again, cause i won’t be so nice next time.”
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hearts4namra · 1 year
Text
angst/comfort. idk why the end is spaced out like that but i cant fix it soo.. also this is an extremeeely old draft so im sorry if its bad :’)
"shit.." you caved onto one knee, blood pooling onto the ground from the cracks between the knife wound. you thought he had died, but earth 2’s yoru managed to lodge his whole knife straight through your ankle, the sharp end coming out the other side. your brain buzzed as you could barely feel the pain through all the adrenaline. you noticed yourself moving slower, dragging your now useless leg on the ground. there was two of jett's knives lodged in your shoulder, who was put down by you before she could retrieve them. along with an upsetting array of bullet wounds in different parts.
you leaned forward behind some cover and propped yourself against it. safe enough away from the site to not be hit by the spike, or be found by any copies. you tucked yourself into the corner of a showers and waited. pulling one leg to your chest since the other hurt too bad.
"(name), i can't see your location on site. where are you?" you moved slowly and sluggishly, putting a finger to your earpiece to activate the system. "i'm down a-site. just a stab wound, needed to stop and keep pressure on it." you lied through your teeth, holding your bloody side as you sucked a breath through your teeth. "i'll be on my way when this is taken care of, y/n." cypher assured, as sage volunteered to follow after him during clean up. you weakly smiled and waited patiently for your friends. barely keeping it together as your friends carried. you sleepily laid your head against the wall, half lidded eyes so tired but still fighting to stay open. in the distance you could vaguely hear the spike go off, as well as the click of a camera. you smiled 'cypher's cam must be here.'
aamir, true to his word left as soon as the mission ended for a showers. sage staying behind to help before following him later.
"my dear, are you alright?" cypher asked as he leaned down to cup your face, he felt himself freeze in terror for a moment. your face was paler than usual, there was a streak of blood under your nose as well as red bubbling from your lips, head leaning against the wall in exhaustion from fighting the urge to sleep. one leg straight against the floor with a knife still currently in it. two knives in your arm and a bullet wound in your stomach, other arm, and upper thigh. "oh no, please" he muttered weakly as he fell unto his knees and grabbed your face. your eyes were empty and distant, but when they landed on him they filled with warmth. you smiled at him, and for once he resented that smile. he never wanted to see blood pour from your face as you weakly tensed your muscles to smile for him. he was 12 different emotions right now, but the strongest one was fear. he gently tucked his arms under your knees and supported your upper half by your shoulders, forcefully wrapping your arm around his neck, to which you got the hint and held on tighter, breathing in deep despite the sharp aching in your lungs as he pulled you close to him. you didnt hear much after that, sometimes noise would filter through but other times it was just silent. cypher frantically called for sage to meet him halfway and started to carry you back to b site, she used her healing orb on you and then everyone moved to the dropship. then sage worked on the injuries her power couldn't heal. by the time you all landed back on base, she had removed all the knives and bullets and completely bandaged everything, she gave you one last healing orb before waking you up and sending you off. cypher was the first to greet you, silently taking hold of your arm and dragging you back to his room. when you got there, he ripped the mask off his face as if it had been suffocating him and grabbed you so gently by your face. you stared up at him with red cheeks as he examined your every feature, almost as if checking to make sure sage did everything right. he couldn't fight the tears surfacing in his eyes as you saw them and grabbed his face too. "oh, no, no. aamir, don't cry. it's alright." you reassured as you brushed your thumbs over his cheeks in the most tender way possible. his brows furrowed almost angrily. "why didn't you tell anyone when it happened." you smiled sadly and opened your mouth to explain but he let go of your face and wrapped his arms around your stomach and buried his face into your shoulder. tears flowing freely down his face as you gently stroked his hair. "they needed your eyes." you answered shortly, "and so did you, little bird." you frowned as his grip on you tightened ever so slightly. "you have to understand. i can't let this happen again. i need to protect you. please just promise no matter what, to let me help you." you blinked and smiled warmly, with a twinge of guilt.
"in our line of work, its hard to promise things like that." you trailed off, grabbing his hand gently and moving it so you could lock pinkies with him. "but for you, aamir, i will try."
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2dmenenthusiast · 8 months
Text
Last Night on Earth Pt. 8
(Ethan Winters x Gn!Reader)
bye this part took a million years to write and im sorry!!! There's also no Ethan in this chapter since this covers the Not a Hero DLC, but he will be back in the next one or the one after! I hope you all enjoy it even though I'm not super satisfied with this chapter hah
Alsoo quick note for chris's characterization, im sort of switching it up a bit? They made chris super rigid in re7 and re8, which is understandable considering all he's been through and all that, but I want him to keep a bit of his personality from re5 and vendetta. So if it switches up a lot, thats why!
Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8 Pt. 9
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"Just so you know, if the mine collapses on us and we get trapped, I'm not giving you permission to eat me."
Chris sighed as you put your headgear on, switching to the nightvision to make sure it worked and promptly blinding yourself.
"Hopefully it won't have to come to that. You were debriefed, correct?"
You gave him a thumbs up while turning your rifle over, closely examining it. The weapon felt heavy and familiar in your hand.
"Lost contact with the first team, Lucas, the Connections. I pay attention."
Chris didn't seem amused at all. Just raising his eyebrows before diverting his attention forward.
"Just follow my lead and keep an eye out."
"Right. And if we end up weaponless and cornered I can defend us with the stick up your ass."
He huffed, and you straightened your shoulders as the elevator came to a stop, and you stepped back into the mine. You were immediately flooded with the not so far away memories of Eveline worming her way into your brain as the caves had collapsed around you and Ethan. The long claws of the monster that had slashed through your back, and apparently killed you. Your chest felt tight, shallow breaths clouding your mask as an overwhelming anxiousness clouded over you.
That’s right.
You died down here.
Chris’s hand landed on your shoulder.
“Hey. Are you alright?”
You gulped and quickly nodded, pushing down every instinct to run and silencing all of your screaming thoughts. Your breathing calmed, and you locked eyes with the Captain.
“I’m fine. Can we get this show on the road?”
He just gave you a look and walked ahead. You took that as your que to follow. You weren’t surprised to see a couple molded monsters still brambling around. Just because Evie was dead didn’t mean the mold wasn’t still alive. From what you’ve read, you knew she didn’t necessarily control it, she was more of a conduit.
You were quick to react when one stumbled around the corner, your feet stepping into a trained and remembered stance while your arms raised. Two silenced bullets took the monster’s head off. Chris said nothing.
Both of you worked as a team to take out any creatures you saw, and you were like a well oiled machine. Chris would go left while you went right, watched your six while you went ahead. Ethan was a good fighter for a man who’d been thrown into a situation he’d never been in before. But everytime you came across one of those things, a twinge of fear would spike through you before you had to force it down and push forward.
Now? You felt strong. Confident. Chris was a well trained soldier, one you could hopefully put your full trust in. And working with him reminded you of how damn good you used to be at your job. It gave you a sense of pride.
Of course, you deflated a bit when a molded came out of nowhere, and Chris absolutely annihilated it with a single punch to its head. He had barely even made a grunt of effort when its head squashed like a moldy grape on impact, and you were glad he couldn’t see your face through the mask, otherwise he’d see your jaw currently touching the floor. When he moved ahead without another word— like it was completely normal— and realized you weren’t moving, he stopped and turned to face you.
“What?”
“Christ, you punch fuckin’ boulders for a living?”
He cleared his throat.
“Uh—”
You moved past before he could properly answer, knowing you wouldn’t be surprised if the answer was yes.
Imagine if that was part of your drills.
“Alright, maggots! Give me twenty boulder punches!”
The mental image made you snicker, and you ignored the curious tilt of Chris’s head. When you heard a cough in the distance, it made you freeze. Chris silently pointed forward, his gun raised, and you followed him up a set of metal stairs and into a familiar room. You instantly recognized the grimy tubs and the smashed computer on the floor from when you found out Lucas was working with The Connections, and the memory made you clench your teeth. You held so much anger for that slimy bastard that it made your chest hurt.
What was different about the room, though, were the two soldiers clad in the exact same gear you both wore laying on the floor. One awake and clearly injured, while the other one lay prone. You assumed he was probably killed by one of the creatures lurking down here. Chris immediately moved to help, while you stood back.
“We’re gettin’ you outta here.”
The soldier shook his head. “Leave me. It’s too late,” he strained, and his head moved back to expose the explosive wrapped around his neck.
Shit.
“Chris—”
“We’re all walking out of here, alright?”
“I got news for you.” The body you thought was dead sat up and slapped something around Chris’s wrist, and you immediately recognized the voice. “That’s not gonna happen!”
Your gun was aimed at his head before you could even think about it, and so was the Captain’s, but Lucas quickly threatened to blow him up if he even tried anything. You wanted to scream, curse him to hell and blow his fucking brains out. But, you kept your cool with a shuddered breath. He couldn’t see your face under the mask. It was possible he didn’t know it was you.
He took off his head gear, and when he cast his gaze towards you, you almost froze.
“You. Get over here. Or I uh, might get a little trigger happy with this switch, here.”
His thumb hovered over the button to the detonator, and you hesitantly made your way forward. Securing a similar bomb over your wrist, you stumbled away from him before he could do anything else. Not like he needed to be close to you to kill you now. One push of a button, and you both were both done for.
How funny. You spent what felt like an eternity tonight barely making it out of this hellhole by the skin of your teeth, only to throw yourself back in. But, it was your choice. And you’d be damned if you let Lucas get away.
“Now you can try and take that off all you want, but I’d advise against. My hand might slip and uh… boom!”
Chris shouted his name while he pressed on the detonator, and the soldier’s head exploded in a visceral mess. The force knocked Chris on his back, and everything screamed in you to react. To do something. But you were scared to even move, not knowing what Lucas would do if you did, and too afraid to find out.
“Now here’s the deal. Y’all don’t follow me, and I won’t have to bounce your heads off the ceiling. The same goes for your other little soldier friends, too. Adios, muchachos.”
Lucas laughed, and as soon as he stepped out the door, particles and gas began filling up the room. Another one of your brother’s sick tricks. You grabbed Chris’s arm and helped him to his feet, while a female voice spoke through your earpiece.
“I’m picking up airborne spores. It’s the E-type mutamycete. Your mask will switch automatically to rebreather mode. Make sure you’re keeping an eye on your oxygen tank.”
“Thank you, beautiful, disembodied voice.”
You and Chris rushed through room after room to get away from the gas, the woman warning you whenever your tank got too low. It was like a race against the clock, the longer you spent in the infected air, the closer you were to infection and maybe death. Once you were finally free of the contamination, you let out a deep breath and noticed that Chris wasn't even phased. Of course, he's got a couple decades on you. He's probably been doing this almost as long as you've been alive.
"You should head back and get that bomb on your arm deactivated," the voice said.
"Absolutely not," you interrupted. Chris just gave you a look. "There's no time, we're not letting him get away."
He sighed, but didn't protest. "They’re right. We can't let him get a head start."
"Understood. Just be careful."
When she got off coms, Chris cleared his throat. "You're calling the shots now, I take it?"
"What? Can't give up control?"
He let out a huff that bordered on a chuckle, and wordlessly continued forward. You wished you could get a read on the man. He had obviously seen and experienced things you couldn’t imagine, working for an organization that dealt with dangerous bioweapons on the daily. If this was the man he is now, you’d like to imagine who he was before he was exposed to such a harsh life.
The further you got into the mine, the more you ran into those creatures and were exposed to contaminated air. You were surprised Lucas didn’t lay more traps for you along the way, but you guessed he didn’t need to when the sweet promise of death was currently strapped to your arm.
Finally, you walked into a larger room with abandoned mining equipment scattered everywhere, along with some type of control system in the middle. There was a clown face painted on it, a big red button making up its nose, and there were three metal shutters— two on your left and one on your right. Blue, red, green.
“What color you feelin’?”
“What?”
You pointed to each door. “Green. Red. Blue. Which one?”
Chris sighed. “Red, I guess.”
You gave a thumbs up and started towards the door, when Chris placed a hand on your shoulder.
“Stay behind me, okay?”
“Aw, look who wants to protect me.”
“Yes. From yourself.”
The shutter rose, and whatever humorous air lingered around you was immediately weighed down by the seriousness that suddenly radiated off of Chris, and you knew it was time to get serious, too. You immediately realized why he was deemed Captain. He oozed authority. Every move and action was purposeful and swift. Not to mention he was an absolute brute. He could probably wrap his arm around your head and crush it like a grape with his bicep.
Soon, you came across a gated cell door, and one of Umbrella’s men was locked behind it. His arms were trapped on either side of him in one of Lucas’s machines, and his clothes were covered in blood.. You could only imagine what horrible things he had planned for him.
“Hey, you alright in there?”
The man lazily lifted his head, letting out a pained groan.
“Redfield?”
“We’re gonna find the key and get you out, okay? Don’t worry.”
You hoped Chris was right. That you could save some of these men. But knowing your brother, you had a strong feeling that you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t voice that, though.
Taking an elevator up into another large area of the mine, an eerie feeling immediately shot through you, and you wondered if Chris felt it too. You also wondered how the fuck you were supposed to find a damn key in this place!
“Chris, I don’t—”
He quickly shushed you, and you paused. He shushed you?!
You opened your mouth to say something else, but stopped your own thoughts from spewing out when he pointed to a green crate. Dismembered mannequins sat inside, and an arm was taped upright with a single key dangling from the hand.
Oh.
Well now you just felt stupid.
Your arm reached out to grab it, but before your fingers even grazed the key, the crate was raised up high in the air and out of your reach. You dropped your hand to your side with a defeated sigh.
Of course.
“Fuckin’ asshole.”
“We have to find some way to get it down.”
He wandered off, you assumed to find the controls to bring the crate back down, and you shook your head. You solved enough of Lucas’s puzzles for the rest of your lifetime. You weren’t about to participate in any more when the solution was much simpler.
“Nope. Fuck this.”
Raising your pistol, you aimed carefully and pulled the trigger, watching the bullet hit the mannequin hand at lightning speed before the key fell out of the crate and into your open palm. You turned to Chris, who stood silently, and dangled the key from your finger. For your own satisfaction, you imagined his face was currently slack-jawed in awe.
The loud thumping behind you mixed with the ground shaking under your feet cut your celebration short, and you turned to see a large, smoking figure brambling towards you.
“Oh, fuck.”
This thing was way bigger than any other creature you had dealt with, smoke emanating from its white skin as it only seemed to get bigger with every step it took towards you. You both attempted to shoot at it, but you were immediately met with a message in the top left corner of your mask.
“HIGH REGENERATION TARGET UNAFFECTED.”
“Oh, that’s just awesome!”
As the thing got closer to Chris, you grabbed his wrist in a death grip and yanked him out of its path.
“We gotta run!”
The idea of running away didn’t seem to compute with him for a moment, but he had no choice as you were dragging him away and towards the elevator. You practically leaped inside and slammed your hand down on the button, slumping against the metal wall in relief once the doors slid closed and you began descending
“Your guys can take care of that thing. Holy shit.”
He wordlessly put his hand out towards you, and it didn’t click until you suddenly remembered that you went through all that for a stupid key. You placed it in his hand, and he didn’t hesitate to move forward once the elevator doors opened. The man was still in the same place you left him, (Of course he was. Not like he could just walk out of there.) and Chris quickly unlocked the door. You carefully examined the room as you went forward, making sure there weren’t any traps waiting for you to trip on, while Chris went to console his comrade. You didn’t like this. It felt too easy.
“Everything’s alright now,” Chris said.
The man shook his head. “That’s just what he wants you to think. I’m just the bait. And you both fell for it.”
Couldn’t have told us that sooner?
As soon as he finished speaking, the room began to fill with contaminated air, and Chris muttered a curse to himself. You noticed this strain was stronger than it was previously, your oxygen going down by the millisecond.
“Take my filter. Hurry!”
“But you’ll die!” 
The soldier shook his head. “I’m dead anyway.” 
He said it like he accepted it a long time ago, and you were hit with the familiarity of it. It was only hours ago you felt that way, too.
It was almost too quick to catch, but a spinning blade zoomed forward and began descending towards the man’s head. Chris screamed Lucas's name in protest and shot at his crude invention, but it was no use. So, you stood, and watched in horror as this man met an inevitable, painful death.
The blades sliced through his neck, and his head hit the floor with a disgusting thud as blood spewed onto the ground. You’ve watched plenty of people die, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen it done so horrifically. The sight made you nauseous. You couldn’t imagine how Chris was feeling.
You realized then not only was this a trap for you and Chris, it was also a sick show of control. Even if Chris wouldn’t die from Lucas’s gadgets, he still wanted the satisfaction of putting the man through hell by making him watch his comrades die. And that sickened you the most.
Does he ever talk about this stuff? Does he confide in anyone about what he’s seen? You hoped he did. After seeing what he has, you wondered if he ever slept. You couldn’t most nights after you went on leave, even less when your whole life and family was flipped upside down. You began to think about how similar you were. He dealt with bioweapons for a living, and you lived under the constant watch of one for three years. He probably had plenty of stories. Could probably tell you things you couldn’t even imagine.
You felt sorry for him.
Bending down, he took the high grade filter off the mask— since he clearly wouldn’t need it anymore— and held it out towards you. Your eyes widened.
“Are you serious? I can’t take it. You need it!”
He shook his head. “I’m not letting a civilian die!”
“And I’m not letting you die! This is not a negotiation!”
He said your name through gritted teeth, but as you watched your oxygen get lower and lower, nearing zero, you snatched it out of his hand and attached it to his mask before he could move away, the piece fitting in with a satisfying ‘click’.
“Are you insane?!”
You don’t know why you did it. Why you constantly felt the need to put the lives of people you barely knew in front of your own, but you never regretted it. Even if it meant your own death. You watched as your oxygen finally hit zero, and you swallowed thickly, ready to choke on your weak attempts to breathe.
But nothing happened.
You blinked in surprise. Why do you feel perfectly fine?
You imagined Chris was just as surprised by your lack of struggling to breathe, and you proceeded to lift your hands towards your mask. He snatched your hand..
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Just let me try somethin’, okay?”
He continued to protest, but you didn’t listen, the seal of your mask coming undone as you lifted it off your head and took a breath.
Nothing. Not even a cough.
“What the hell…” Chris muttered.
“Come on, there’s no time to talk about it right now. We gotta get out of here before your oxygen runs out.”
He nodded and followed you until you were back in the main area of the cave, but your mind was still reeling. Why weren’t you affected by the contagion? Was Lucas tricking you? No, that didn’t seem right. The goal was to kill you, not scare you. So what did that leave?
Were you…? No. There’s no way you were immune.
You didn’t realize Chris was speaking until he tapped your shoulder, and you blinked out of your zoned out state.
“Huh?”
“Can you explain what happened back there? Why didn’t you mention you were immune to the virus?”
You stuttered for a response. “I-I… I don’t know what happened. You’re about as clueless as me.”
Your coms came to life with the sound of a familiar female voice.
“It could be due to your prolonged exposure to the E series, your body naturally created the antibodies needed to fight the virus on its own.”
You shook your head. “That’s insane. That’s…”
You thought back to when Ethan said you died, how you came back and felt better. Then back to when you got the vaccine, and how you didn’t feel any effect. You must’ve already been cured when you woke up. Still, that didn’t explain the miraculous healing of your injuries.
“We don’t have time to dwell on it now. Keep your headgear on, though. We don’t want Lucas finding out that it’s you.”
You nodded and placed your helmet back on, while Chris muttered what he’d do to your brother when he found him.
“Just remember we need him alive, Chris,” the woman said.
You grit your teeth, trying not to let your emotions spill out. You knew that’s what Umbrella wanted, to get information out of him. But like hell you were letting him walk out of here alive. And you didn’t care who you pissed off by killing him.
Doing a quick ammo check, you and Chris decided the green shutter door was next on your list, doom settling deep in your gut as the door slowly screeched open. You were met with a short set of stairs leading through a narrow pathway, and resigned yourself to standing behind Chris. There was no way you'd be able to walk next to him in here.
The layout was almost like a maze, walking down one path only to turn and walk through an identical one. You felt like you needed a map to navigate this place. Of course, more contaminated air was blowing through the vents, but with your newfound immunity, you didn't worry about it much.
In the distance, from what you could see through the thick fogginess of the air, smoke began rising from the wall as mold seemed to congeal together to form a tall, monstrous creature. The smoke reminded you of the big guy you ran into earlier, and when you tried to shoot at it, the same message in your mask popped up.
"Shit, it's regenerating too fast. Normal bullets aren't gonna cut it!”
"I'm open to suggestions," Chris said.
Your brows rose in surprise. He did have a sense of humor! A very dry one, but still there.
Your coms buzzed to life. "You'll need RAMRODS to stop it from regenerating lost tissue. You have to fall back."
You frantically looked back and forth, the monster beginning to trap you into a corner, before you grabbed Chris's arm.
"This way!"
You had no idea where you were going, but anywhere was better than near that thing. You took down the hall and turned the corner, repeating the same thing over and over until you were sufficiently far away. You took a breath, and hoped to fuck you'd get out of this soon.
"You keep doing that."
You raised your head to look up at him. "Huh?"
"Pulling me out of danger. Like you need to protect me."
Your eyes slightly widened and you stuttered for an answer. "I-I mean… I was a soldier, you know."
He didn't say anything, just hummed to himself before walking on ahead. Faces flashed in your mind, and you squeezed your eyes shut as your grip tightened around your gun. Now wasn't the time.
You began to debate if you were lost as you went further into the mine, and you prayed to fuck that Chris knew his way back. 
“Did you know that was gonna happen?”
Your steps slightly faltered. “What do you mean?”
“Back there, when Lucas killed that man. Did you know he was going to die?”
The question made you pause, and you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat.
“Yes.”
He didn’t say any more, but you felt your answer was dissatisfying without an explanation.
“I grew up with that psycho, and I had to experience every sick trick he had once he was graced with Eveline’s influence. Once I saw that man, I… I knew he was doomed. I just didn’t want to say anything because even if I did, I knew you’d wanna try and save him anyway. I knew you wouldn’t just let him die without a fight.”
He didn’t speak for a moment, and you almost spoke again to try and fill the silence when he interrupted you.
“Would you have saved him? Even knowing all that, would you still have at least tried?”
You didn’t have to think about it as you nodded. “Of course.”
“Good. That’s all I need to know, then.”
The trip through the rest of the cave proved almost fruitless, minus the box of RAMRODS you found just chilling in a random room. You didn’t bother to question why they were down here in the first place, because at least now you had something that could deal with those high regen bastards. You were able to make your way back to the shutter entrance with little difficulty, only running into more of Lucas’s puzzles, as well as tiny little bug fuckers that you could only compare to something out of an old video game you used to play.
What was it? Half… Half something…
Whatever.
As soon as you went through the last shutter, you were immediately met with darkness. Your mask automatically kicked on the nightvision, and your sight was nothing but shades of green. When you tried to step forward, Chris put his hand on your shoulder.
“Wait.” He gestured towards the ground, pointing at the pressure plates.
Of course.
“Guess we gotta be extra careful.”
It didn’t take long to run into similar traps, including automatic gun turrets and fucking lasers. There was also a point where you and Chris had to shove around mining carts, your muscles straining whilst you used your legs as leverage to push them out of your way.
“God, this is fucking stupid.”
You gripped the handles of the last cart and shoved it forward, watching as the wooden wall beyond it gave away and revealed a hallway behind it with more lasers.
“He’s been watching too many spy movies, I swear.”
Crouching and stepping over the lasers, you opened the door at the end of the hall to reveal a room that was entirely filled with them.
“Yeah. Way too fuckin’ many.”
“Just try to focus on moving through them.”
Despite Chris’s words, that piece of logic was almost thrown out the window when he saw one of the missing soldiers lying in the middle of all the chaos.
“Marquez?”
You grabbed his arm before he could move. “Hold on there, big guy. Even if we get to him through all this mess, there’s no way Lucas is just gonna let us drag him out of there. We have to turn the lasers off.” You grinned to yourself and placed a hand on your hip. “I bet you're glad you brought me along, huh?”
“Something like that.”
“Fine, you stay here, and I'll shut them off.”
Chris shook his head. “Absolutely not. I’m not letting you—”
“Are you forgetting my background? I’m not just some helpless civilian you have to look after. Besides, I don’t need your burly shoulders bumping into every goddamn trap in here and setting something off.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Burly?”
“Have you looked in the mirror?”
You heard a distant cough, and were quickly reminded of where you were. Right. Injured soldier, needed saving, blah blah blah. Holstering your weapon, you were careful and precise with every move you made, being sure not to make any sudden movements. Fuck getting this far only to die by damn lasers.
You made it to the man with ease, avoiding touching him, but asking him to give you a sign that he was okay. He gave you a thumbs up, and you relayed it to Chris who stood across the room watching you like a hawk. Finally able to stand up straight, you walked over to the control switch and pulled it down, the lasers disappearing right after. You heard Chris let out a relieved sigh before walking over to the man and helping him to his feet.
“Hey, you still with us?
Marquez nodded. “Yeah, thanks. I was beginning to think we’d be left behind.”
“Please, he’s too stubborn for that,” you chimed in, earning a look.
Once he was standing on his own two feet, he began limping to the exit, and you and Chris remained close behind.
“Lucas is a fucking psycho. Not sure what’s worse— him or those things.”
“Definitely him,” you said.
Chris hummed. “Let’s just focus on getting you out of here.”
Beyond the door he took you through was a smaller room with a ladder leading upwards, telling you that this was the way out. As soon as the words came out of his mouth, the bomb that you both failed to notice on his neck came to life, a red light blinking furiously.
“Fuck! Get this thing off me!”
He was tugging and scratching at the bomb, desperateness and fear clear in his voice. And once again, there was nothing you could do but watch him die. His head exploded, blood spewing from the base of his neck as his limp body fell to the floor. Chris just stood there, looking at the lifeless form of his comrade, before both of your masks projected the image of your brother.
“Now, I don’t know about you, Christopher, but—” he stopped, eyes widening a bit before a sick smile spread across his face.
Shit.
“Ohohoho! Now this I did not expect. My dear ol’ sibling is working with Redfield.” He clicked his tongue. “How fun. I would’ve prepared somethin’ a bit more grand if I knew you were gonna be coming.”
Your eyes narrowed and your jaw clenched, but Chris wouldn’t let Lucas change the topic.
“Three of my men are dead because of you, Lucas. This ends, and it ends now.”
“I don’t think so. It’s about to be four— no, five dead soldiers in a minute,” he laughed, and his image faded to static.
It was only then that a timer appeared in your interface, counting down from ten minutes as the bomb on yours and Chris’s arms began blinking with the same red light. Panic settled deep in your stomach, and you heard Chris speak into his earpiece.
“Okay, we got a situation here.”
“We’re on it, Chris,” the woman said. “Head back to the central cavern and wait for further instructions.”
“Don’t let me down.”
“Ah, yes. I love waiting while my arm is about to be blown to smithereens.”
You did as the woman said and made your way back, running into creatures along the way that only seemed to be there to waste your time. Every time you looked at the timer, it only seemed to be going down faster, and almost a whole minute had gone by since you first looked.
Nine minutes. We got nine minutes. That’s plenty of time. Plenty of time to get this stupid fucking thing off of me!
“Alright, good news.”
Oh, hallelujah.
A couple images popped up on your screen. “Our video logs from the first unit show canisters of liquid nitrogen nearby. You might be able to deactivate the bombs by freezing them.”
She let you know that the canisters were behind the red shutter, and you wasted less than no time rushing through it. You knew it probably wasn’t smart to be going through the area so hastily, and that you should remain calm, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to. But when you looked at Chris, he was as cool as a cucumber. Like this was a normal Tuesday afternoon for him. You’d be jealous if you weren’t so focused on the death trap currently strapped to you.  
When a molded creature stepped in your way, grit your teeth and put three bullets in its oversized head, pushing its body to the side whilst it fell forward. When it landed and squirmed and your feet, you stomped your boot right onto its mushy skull, goo and viscera spraying the ground.
“Get the fuck outta my way!”
Chris grabbed your arm and tugged your forward, and as this section of the cave began to look more familiar, your eyes slowly widened. This is where that big fucker was that you had to run away from earlier. He was nowhere in sight now, but you didn’t bank on him not showing up eventually. You were never that lucky.
“The liquid nitrogen is just beyond that room.”
An anxious feeling crawled through your stomach and up your throat, and you looked at the timer again. Less than seven minutes. Okay, not bad. But, as soon as you tried to go beyond the room like the woman in your ear said, a stack of blue crates fell directly in front of you, effectively blocking your path. Words were crudely spray painted on them, and you almost broke a few teeth from how hard your jaw was clenching.
“EAT SHIT AND DIE!”
You heard something grotesque forming behind you, and didn’t even want to look. Instead, Chris looked for you.
“Well. That’s lovely.”
With an infuriated growl, you grabbed the AR that was strapped to your back and let bullets spray from the creature's middle and up to its head. If Lucas was going to kill you, he certainly had to try a lot harder than this!
You tried flanking the creature, but the area proved to be too small and too crowded for it to work effectively. It was full guerilla mode, and you gave it everything you got. There wasn’t a single bullet wasted, pumping everything into its rubbery form. The more you hurt it, the more the creature seemed visibly affected. Parts of its body began to split open, pouring blood and other viscous liquids that you didn’t want to hazard a guess as to what they were.
Fucking disgusting!
You were soon at its back, its eyes set on Chris, and fear spiked through you. The more he backed up, the closer it got, and he was going to be trapped in a corner soon if you didn’t think of something fast. You looked around, picking up an oversized rock out of one of the mining carts, and aimed at its giant head.
“Hey, ugly!”
The stone hit with a disgusting “thwack,” clattering to the ground as the monster stopped moving. Its feet stomped against the ground whilst it turned towards you, and let out a visible huff.
“Oh, shit.”
Chris desperately shouted your name as it barrelled towards you, swiping its hand against your side and sending your body slamming into a pile of stones. The glass of your head gear shattered on impact, oxygen hissing through the opening, and you gasped for air when white hot pain surged through you. You found it difficult to even breathe. With a pained grunt, you propped yourself up on one hand and gave a thumbs up.
“I’m okay! Just kill the bastard!”
He didn’t need to be told twice, leading it a sufficient distance away from you as he shot RAMROD bullets into its thick head. While you were concerned about how much time was remaining, you found yourself more concerned about the man fighting in front of you. You knew you probably didn’t need to worry, but you couldn’t help the deep-seated feeling from bubbling up inside you. And despite the pain you felt, you wouldn’t just sit and let him take care of the rest of this mess either.
Struggling to your feet, you took a shaky breath and resumed your attack on the creature, but were stunned into stillness when Chris landed an uppercut to the thing and sent it flying through the air.
Is he Captain America or something?!
Its fat limbs flailed, struggling to roll onto its stomach to get up. It didn’t make it that far before its skin began bubbling under the surface, and it exploded into mushy bits.
“Target down, Chris. Now find that nitrogen!”
She sounded as desperate as you felt.
Rushing up to the Captain, you both worked to push one of the crates over, your salvation just beyond it. Chris didn’t even give you the opportunity to let him go first, grabbing your hand in his instead and plunging both of the bombs into the liquid nitrogen. You could feel how cold it was through the thick fabric of your glove,and you flexed your fingers to make sure you could still feel them.
“That did the trick.”
“Take it off before it thaws and restarts!” she urged.
You gripped the bomb and yanked it off your wrist, throwing it across the room as the light began blinking again. It exploded as soon as it hit the opposite wall, and Chris’s own bomb followed suit. An immense weight was immediately lifted off your shoulders, and you placed your hands on your knees with a deep sigh.
“Thank fuck.”
“Hey.” Chris put a hand on your shoulder, prompting you to stand up straight and look up at him. “You okay?”
You nodded, lifting your hands to take off what remained of your mask. You didn’t notice it until now, but the pain in your side had slowly faded away, and when you pressed your hand against your ribs, you felt nothing but a dull ache.
What is happening to you?
“You ready for this?”
You locked eyes with the tinted glass of his mask and smirked, huffing out a quiet chuckle.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment for the past three years. I’m more than ready.”
Chris nodded, hand clapping against your shoulder.
“Alright. Let’s get this fucker.”
tagged: @taytaylvr @xdarkcreaturex
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david-powers-simp · 10 months
Text
Quiet night in 🌙
David x gn reader
A/n: Ok this is a self-indulgent fic. I wrote this 100% for myself, so the writing is shit. but I felt like you guys might enjoy reading it, so here we go. There is little to no plot here it's just fluff, honestly. David picks the reader up from her shitty retail job, then they both enjoy a nice night in. Nothing much other than that. So I hope you peeps enjoy.
Warnings: none really just fluff and some cussing. the other boys do make a short appearance. Also this is not proofread, so there that as well.
" im so done with this shit." You say as you step outside, leaving your job. You worked the night shift at a general store in santa carla. It wasn't the worst job, but it was still pretty shitty.
You start to walk down to the boardwalk, one of your favorite places to frequent. The night breeze was warm and comforting as it engulfed you. You heard the sounds of people laughing, carnival music, and what sounds like metal jingling coming from behind you.
You immediately know what that sound is and who it's coming from. But you decide to play along. You start to walk faster, and just as you suspect, you hear the pair of boots from behind you speed up. You know this could go on for hours. So you start slowly down, and sure enough, so does the mystic figure. However, you feel a presence coming closer accompanied by two strong arms wrapping around your waist.
You turn around to greet your handsome stalker. He's exactly who you expected. It's david.
" Hi sugar, you look like you could use a ride." He says as he takes a cigarette from behind his ear and lights it.
" You know I always do. " You say as you take his leather clad hand.
You two had been together for a while now. But time didn't matter any moment spent with david was pure bliss.
David turned on his heels to go back to where he parked his bike. It was a normal occurrence for david to pick you up after work he liked seeing you any chance he got. The familiar sound of david's spurs start jingling as he walks. He takes a few puffs of his cigarette. The walk is nice and quiet until david asks.
" how was work?"
" it was alright, I few customers were assholes but all in all, it was not the worst." You shrug.
He tosses his cigarette butt to the ground.
"Mhm, you could always quit so you don't have to deal with dumb asses." He suggests.
" Maybe I will." You tell him. " but I don't know then how would I afford anything? I need money."
" Do what I do. Steal anything you need or want." David tells you.
You laugh. " I would get caught in a heartbeat, but thank you for the confidence you have in me."
" I'll teach you if you want." He offers.
You both come to a stop when david approaches his bike. He takes his keys out of his pocket, gets on the bike, and starts the engine. You use his shoulders to stabilize yourself. You swing your leg over the bike, then you wrap your arms around davids waist. In anticipation of him starting to drive.
" You ready, baby?" He asks, revving the engine.
" Absolutely, go fast, my love." You instruct.
" As you wish." That was the last thing he said before speeding down the boardwalk. Going as fast as he can to take you both back home.
The ride was wild. Very exhilarating. Just what you needed after a long night at work. You can hear david laugh as he navigates the winding path to the cave. He always loved a challenge, especially ones he knew he'd succeed at.
It's not long before you both arrive at the cave. You hop off the bike and david follows. You both step inside the cave. It's oddly quiet. Most of the time, you would hear either paul blasting his boom box , Marko talking with his pigeons, or dwayne reading to laddie. Suprising, you heard utter silence. The boys must have gone out.
" Did the boys go out?" You ask.
" I asked them to. So we could have the place to ourselves, I knew you would want quiet after work." David replies while grabbing his lighter and lighting a torch on fire to toss in one of the metal drums to illuminate the cave. He then walks over to one of the couches and flops down.
You smile at his reply before going over and sitting next to him. David snakes an arm around you, pulling you into his lap. David was always affection, but he definitely was when it was just you and him. Sure, he still was the strong silence type, but he always made sure you knew how much he loved you.
" You are very sweet, you know that." You tell him while playing with his hair something he only let you do. Anyone else to touch his hair has lost a hand.
David smiles his sly smile. " Am I? Most humans think im terrifying. "
" That's because most humans you interact with, you eat. But i find you quite dazzling. " You reply with a giggle.
" I fucking love you. " he mumbles into your neck. " I know I don't tell you enough, but I do love you very much." Since the two of you met, David has struggled to voice his love for you, not that he doesn't love you because he does. He loves you more than anything. However, david was never taught how to voice his emotions whatsoever that being said, and he struggles with telling you he loves you, but he always makes sure he holds you or touches you so you know how much he cares and how much he needs you.
You can't help but grin. " I love you too, baby. I always will." You say as you grab his hands to interlock your fingers together. " I like nights like this."
" Me too, doll. We should do it more often." David says, leaving kisses on your jawline.
You rub his shoulder. Anyway, to show him that you adore him . Your fingers travel up his neck and to his chin to pull him to face you. David, let's you move him as you wish. He looks at you with his mesmerizing blue eye. He knows what you want, so why keep waiting. David leans in and kisses you. It's soft and sweet he's gentle with you. He knows how to please you, and he prides him to make sure he does. He moves you closer to him so he can deepen the kiss.
" ew what the fuck david you kicked us out so you could bone that's disgusting man."
You both are rudely interrupted by paul's comment. David pulls away from you, huffing at his brother.
" Paul, you are a cockblock. I hope you know that." You say sitting on davids lap.
" What are you doing her paul?" David asks visibly annoyed.
" Well, we wreaked havoc on the boardwalk for a while, but laddie is tired, so we came back to put him to sleep. Just then, dwayne entered with a sleepy laddie in his arms. Dwayne just nodded towards your direction before walking to laddie's bed to lay him down. Marko walked in next.
" See paul, I told you we should have just waited and came back in another hour." Marko stated, acting serious.
" You did not! Your the one who dared me to come back earlier!" Paul shouted back at Marko.
David groaned in frustration. " Well it was nice while it fucking lasted."
" it really was baby well have to do it more often." You say lightly laughing at your vampire lover's expression.
" Maybe next time we can actually have a quiet night in." David sassed. While you lay on his chest, tucking your arms into his sides. As he places his hands on your back. The rest of the night was filled with laughter and chaos from the boy and grumbles from david, but you wouldn't have it any other way you had a family even if that family was a little crazy sometimes.
Well my peeps there you have it. I hope you enjoyed it I definitely enjoyed writing it I feel like it's kinda all over the place but idk really I think it's decent enough. So until next time my besties take care and drink your water. 🩷💫
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Note
Ok so I had to write down my requests in my notes so I wouldn't forget them bc like I said I have the memory of a humming bird.
Could you pretty please do some morning after headcanons with our dear doctor Ian? possibly the reader taking care of them like making breakfast and maybe even reader saying sorry for being a bit rough the night before
ooh interesting sure no problem~
°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○°•○
Its Time To Wake Up
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You woke up to the sound of birds chirping loudly by the window you were facing you crack one eye open drowsily looking around for a moment. You saw the sunlight was inside the room and you smiled tiredly.
You shifted lightly and realized there was a curled up body beside you radiating a nice welcoming heat. While looking down at them you recall the events of last night and you smile more.
You noticed they had the faintest smile on their face. That must be a good sign then and you lean down slowly and gently moved some hair out of their face. You watched Ian's chest move up and down evenly, their neck was visible and you admired how their otherwise flawless skin was marred by dark love bites you had left last night.
While watching them sleep you was admiring their hair fluffy and messy in a cute way. If you was being honest during the times when you and Ian was dating you made it your mission to play with their hair taking in how their dark roots blend into thier blonde ends.
Of course this made you recall Ian's sex hair you recall the moans of them calling your name gripping your shoulders oddly feeling the same sensation when they scratched you there.
You love them so much and on impulse leaned down and kissed them softly on the cheek. Ian felt the gentle touch on their skin and shifted a bit removing their arm from your naked torso to rub their eyes lightly "morning y/n" thier voice was thick with sleep and they leaned closer to rest their face against your neck kissing you their lightly and remaining like that.
You chuckle lightly bringing your hand up to their hair to play with it "morning love" you said lovingly. "Mm you know i love you right" Ian muffled cutely against your neck.
You felt the vibration against your neck smiling more and nod "of course i do love but i think i may love you more then you love me"
Ian protest immediately shaking their head back and forth their lips and nose grazing your neck repeatedly. "Thats an error" they muffled cutely.
You giggle lightly "okay agree to disagree then" after a long pause you hear Ian speak once more "mmm love im hungry" you laugh. "Alright but lets bathe first then ill cook what you like." You said sitting up and slipping out of bed.
You watched Ian get out of bed wincing having various love bites and nail scratches on their back as well. What can you say you wanted to Ian to be on top before you took over and it was a very good choice.
You was a little rough though going around quickly and held them "I'm sorry if i was rough with you love" Ian blushes and looked at you "its okay love just sore but i wont forgive you if you dont feed me"
You laughed helping them bathe first gently washing their back, and gently washing their hair and rinsing it out smiling. Once you both took a bath and may have had a little make out session you both dried and you dried Ian's hair watching it become fluffy and perfect once more.
You both was sitting in the kitchen eating a simple Pancakes, bacon, eggs making sure everything was perfect. Making coffee the way they like and watched them eat and talk about their work with you grown to enjoy because they had such a passion for it.
"Let me wash the dishes love" Ian would say and grab the empty plates and washed them while doing so you would hold them close making sway to the music you decided to play on Bluetooth Ian giggles and flashes that beautifully handsome smile and you almost caved.
"I love you so so much" Ian said
"I love you to"
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Taglist: @justaproudslytherpuff, @sherazyjade, @the-masked-scorpio, @sugakookieswithacupoftae16, @happilydangerousworld, @harlekin6
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deepspacedukat · 2 months
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I’m glad you’re doing alright! And it’s all good I know how hectic life can be. And Aw I saw your post about Gary Graham, he was a great actor, im going to miss him. I’m glad you had a great holiday I did too! So did cinder 😂 I got into sewing and I made her a tent, a few little beds, and a Guinea pig sized pillow. She is a very happy Guinea pig and it’s been almost a year, nock on wood, since Cinder’s last upper respiratory infection which she had when we adopted her at about 9 weeks old so she might finally be in remission.
(This next part is fish talk so you can skip if you want)
I also ended up adopting two blind cave tetras, two of my guppies and an older platty had died a while back turns out one guppies had a deformed spine that got worse as she got older and the second one started having swim bladder issues about the same time so being from the same litter I wonder if she also had a malformity. So long story short after saying for months that I wasn’t going to get more fish I had seen these two blind cave tetras, three times in the span of a month in a brightly lit tank with no cover at the store and between them getting picked on by unsuitable tank mates (no peaceful fish should be in with cichlids) and chased off from the food they were trying to eat, I caved (pun intended) and bought them. It’s been a week now and they have settled in. One Mexican blind cave fish has tiny undersized grey eyes and the other one has no eyes just the filled in shading of where eyes and sockets would be. Also turns out these fish (I looked it up) have developed a form of verbal communication in that they make clicking noises and a study done said different schools from different caverns develop school specific accents. I also added a log cave for them and more shade providing decorations like plants and water lilies in one side of the tank and have a black screen dimming the overhead light though the cave fish seem to like to swim in open water with the plattys and guppies and the corydoras use the cave more than these guys do. I tried feeding the cave fish at night when I feed the nocturnal corydora catfish but the cavefish seem to have decided they prefer to eat during the day when I feed the plattys and guppies so to make it easier on them I now feed them against the front wall and got the fish used to me tapping the water on that wall three times to say ‘food’ now the blind tetras are the first ones there every morning.
(I’ll have to upload pictures in the next ask since this one said I had too long of a message for pictures 😂😅 whoops)
We'll all miss him, definitely. He played a damn good Vulcan. 💙
Thank you so much for the update about your fluffy (and scaly) babies!!! I love them very much! I'm so glad Cinder is good now!
And awww, the fishiesssss!!! I'm so happy to hear you have some new adopted fish bb's!!! Also, THEY CAN TALK??? That's amazing!! I mean, I know it's their own clicky language, but DAMN. Thems is some smart fish!!! 👀
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freakattack · 3 months
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Im not done yet but move it thoughts so far (SPOILERS)
I hate this but i'm getting this out of the way right now because i am NOT pointing out every time this happens, but i cannot believe how much unintentional deviantart type shit is in this?? Obviously it's all goofy cartoon gags so it's innocuous in intent but with so many in quick succession it feels like we're checking off boxes here. Kids, there's nothing more cool than drawing characters you like, but if an anonymous stranger ever randomly approaches you asking you to draw "what if ashley was giant haha", THAT'S NO GOOD
One other thing before i get into the individual stages that i thought was weird even back when they released the trailers for this, and i'm being a little fun police about this, is fhat i dont like the implication that this ancient civilization was colonized and converted into a tourist trap. I don't know how i would have fixed this but seeing it all laid out like that is like oh, this feels sucky.
WARIO: I like the callback to smooves in his stage and also that he gets both in and out of trouble by being a massive dick. The new voice......it's gonnna have to grow on me
MONA: Was a little disappointed that she was looking for mermaids instead of like barnacles or something but it's fine, mermaids can be for everyone. Joe is a fucking maniac but i respect him.
THE CRYGORS: really fucking cute. I love the pose mike does when you win. Also, the retroactive cave drawings of each of them are super funny
ORBULON:
W
H
A
4.T!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
OK first of all, i know i said that i wasnt gonna bring this up again but i really really hate the orbulon weight gain thing. Do you know how many of that exact image i have been accosted by before this game was even announced just by googling his name?? TOO MANY. And now all of them are REAL. I feel betrayed.
now that that's out of the way. WHAT!!!!!
I don't know how to feel about the oinker being alive. I'm at a loss. On one hand, it upends everything we know about the oinker. On the other hand, i too have a soul bond with my car
I enjoyed being able to look inside orbulon's brain. I think that is all i ever wanted to do in a wario game.
One thing i think is highly consistent with his old characterization is that he WOULD instantly welcome people worshipping him like a god
THE ORBULON DAD REVEAL. It's like. See I thought we were going to meet him in person and it would be like a big lore thing but this is literally a joke. I'm ok with a joke. I'm ok with a gaff.
I really appreciated all of the slapstick. If orbulon doesn't eat shit on the concrete is it even worth it
This is in a later cutscene but i'm addressing it here, i simultaneously love and hate the fact that orbulon is depicted sleeping on a lounge chair slurping a drink because i literally drew him doing exactly that in the next camping episode. I'm very happy that we are all in agreement that that is a thing he can do. But mark my words i did it first so you gotta act surprised okay
OK one last thing but i really liked rhe chicken rap
ASHLEY: Just your standard garden variety ashley cutscene. Even on vacation red needs a vacation
THE REMIX BUS: this is my favorite cutscene in the game. Super funny, love the chaos as well as seeing each character fooling around and just hanging out, and mike's singing is melodious. This is the peace all true warriors strive for
CRICKET & MANTIS: I think i said "WHAT" out loud like five times during both of these cutscenes. WHAT!!!!!!!!!
KAT & ANA: Similarly, CRACTUS??!!!?! FROM WARIO LAND??!! I enjoy how many random throwbacks this game has. Also, nice to see the return of leo even though i didnt care about him that much. He's alright
JIMMY T: Beautiful as always. 10/10 no notes
Dribblenspitz: I think there is more raw emotion in dribble's "AW, NUTS" than the entire rest of the game. Love their cutscene
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Also love that REPORTER KEN is BACK and i guess he wears contacts now good for him. Love the traditional dribblenspitz sci fi shooter boss
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Coping, but everyone finds out what Lou's been doing to himself after the Gauntlet.
Op- I feel like I interpreted the other prompt wrong, XD, sorry.
OKAY, so this one will take place after the Gauntlet, got it XD
<><><><><>
Not safe. Not safe. Exposed. Exposed. Breathe. Just breathe, idiot. You're dying. Dying! Alert! Alert! Dying! No air! We need air! Why can't I breathe! This is it! Pain. Claw. Get out--Get out--Get out--Get out--
Lou twisted his head side to side, trying to pop his neck. Maybe that would get the thoughts to calm down. They were making him dizzy.
Run! Run! Hide! Not safe! I'm not safe! They know--They all know! My chest hurts--I can't breathe--heart racing--I must be dying. Oh, Doll, I'm dying! I can't breathe! I can't stop shaking! Why am I shaking?
Back pressed flush against the wall, knees drawn up close to his chest, elbows propped on top as he dug his fingers through his hair. A ruined tussle of hair that used to hold shape. Now, loose curls draped just above his shoulders. So much for the conditioner.
The hair was the last thing on his mind.
Someone will see me! Snap out of it! You're fine, idiot! You're oka--but I can't breathe! Oh, please, someone help I can't breathe! I need help! I can't speak! My throat feels tight! I'm choking! Choking! Can't breathe!
He rocked, body shaking too much to register if he was actually moving or not. He was too afraid to cry. He couldn't get in enough air to weep.
Something soft wrapped around him, and he accidentally let out the sob that had been trapped inside him. He bit his lip harshly, a seam coming undone. Legs pulled up closer and feet pointed inward, trying to cave in on himself more. Away from what this contact was.
Danger! Danger! You're trapped! Stuck! Stuck! No escape! Trapped! Trapped! Tra--
"It's okay," the voice was as soft as the hold. "You're okay."
Not okay! You're dying, idiot! STUPID. FOOL. IDIOT. WORTHLESS. FAILURE. PROTOTYPE. HELP. HELP. STUCK. TRAPPED. HELP. CAN'T BREATHE. HELP. HELP--
"...Help....Help," Lou whimpered through the cries.
"I hear ya," Ox shushed calmly. He swayed them into a gentle rock, "I gotcha, Buddy. Don't worry. I ain't gonna let go." Ox managed to tear Lou's hands away from his hair. It didn't take much to notice the bits of stuffing peaking out through rips in his felt. The marks looked intentional. "Aw, Lou," Ox gently rubbed the better portion of the arm. "What am I gonna do with ya?"
"What's going on?" The others finally found the whereabouts of the new mayor. Moxy's bright eyes immediately grew worried when she saw Lou. "Oh my doll, is he okay?" Her voice rose a few decibels.
Ox quickly hushed her, "He's fine. Don't make a big deal of it. You'll make it worse."
THERE'S MORE. THEY'RE HERE. THEY KNOW. EVERYONE KNOWS. WEAK. PATHETIC. SHAMEFUL. YOU'RE VULNERABLE. GET OUT NOW. NOW. NOW. NOW. GET OUT--
"Make it stop!" Lou was about to claw at his arms again, but Ox kept them firmly in his hands. "Go away! Get out! Get out!"
"You're okay, Bud, shh. It's alright."
Ugly Dog crept up toward the two, looking curiously at the blonde. "What, uh, what's wrong with 'im?"
"He's havin' a panic attack, just...just don't stress him out." Ox combed his fingers through the blonde strands, occasionally massaging the shoulders.
Moxy kneeled down in front of Lou, wanting so desperately to help in some way. She wouldn't know where to begin. Ox seemed prepared for the situation. "Has...he done this before?"
The bunny hesitated, "It was never this bad before. Maybe a little shakin' and heavy breathin', but he never made a mess of his arms before. He never hurt himself."
PEOPLE. PEOPLE. THEY'RE EVERYWHERE. AROUND YOU. NOT ENOUGH AIR. GET OUT. YOU'RE TRAPPED. OX IS HERE. OX. OX. PAIN. ALONE. OX.
"...Ox...Ox," Lou squeezed his eyes shut tighter as the name spilled off his cut lip.
The owner responded, "Yeah, I'm here, Bud. I gotcha. Can ya breathe?"
"No," Lou whimpered. "I...I can't," even his voice sounded breathless. "I-I'm dying--"
"You're okay, see? I'm right here. Deep breath in...deep breath out." Ox gave him an example to follow. "In...out."
Stuttering gasps of air came from the blonde, but he was breathing. A few deep breaths later and he took in a long inhale. Body ceased its shaking as he released. With that tension gone, a weight fell heavily on his body. His head went limp for a moment. Ox did well to cup his head in his paws. "There ya go. You're doin' great, Bud. Keep breathin'." He lifted Lou's face to meet his, watching Lou's eyelids flutter from the sudden exhaustion.
"...dying." His voice was weak. Quiet.
"You're okay. You ain't dyin'. All that panic wore ya out, that's all." He ran a thumb over the open seam on Lou's bottom lip. "We'll get ya fixed up, too." Another paw ran up the blonde's wounded arm. "Gosh, Lou, when'd ya start doin' this to yourself?"
The only response was a quiet moan. Lou's eyes closed, and his body went limp for another moment. Ox rested the dead weight against his chest. "Alright, never mind that for now. Let's just focus on gettin' ya back t' normal." Babo kneeled down to take some of the weight of the blonde from Ox. The bunny instinctively bristled, "Don't touch 'im." Babo stopped short, eyes wide. Blinking, Ox shifted his gaze back down to the form in his arms, "Sorry...Just...I've got 'im. Ya'll tell the other dolls I'll be a bit."
Moxy stood up slowly, "Do you need any help?"
Ox shook his head, "I got it, don't worry. This ain't the first time," he muttered the last bit under his breath. It was difficult at first -- having not carried the Pretty Doll in so long -- but Ox got Lou in a comfortable position in his arms.
The rest of the group watched the bunny hurry off as gently as possible.
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goremet-chef · 10 months
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HI i just got back from a like. 7 hour gaming session of the forest and SHITT MANN (RAMBLE)
we had a few goals, one was to put up spike walls for our upper base, n then another was to finish just small furniture things
the main one was to go to the caves and get the schematics cuz i wanted a glider. we GOT IT and it was all good and we made em but MANNN
my throat started to be like? TIGHT? feeling horribly paranoid and on edge for 7 hours straight will do that to you i guess
we went to the village for cloth and then fucking megan was there and i was like HM theres a PROBLEM leave now so we ran and listen
I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION that if you SLEPT they just despawned. my impression was incorrect ofc, when you sleep they just move a bit farther away
so.... we went back assuming she was gone and man! she was not gone! i pretty much made direct eye contact with her and my friend is so. SHE. the way like.. WHAT IF I DIDNT KNOWWWW
anytime i see somethin im like PROBLEM theres a problem theres an armsy, cowman, WHATEVER but no she has a sort of. freeze and then flee rresponse, so she saw megan and then saw it start to chase me and ran, said nothing which. GOOD THING I WAS PAYING ATTENTION.
i made some really interesting noises cuz i thought she was RIGHT on my tail like i kept hearing a weird whipping noise and i just thought it was over for me man. literally my friend was shocked cuz like.. IVE MADE SOME WEIRD NOISES WHEN IM SCARED ALRIGHT
being chased in horror games is one of my favorite like... TO ME thats the scariest thing i hate chases they mentally overwhelm me to the point where when im watching someone play a game and their getting chased, i have to pause the video every 3 seconds because i physically cant handle how stressed it makes me SKFJS
so... imagine that but its me and there is no pausing!!!!! horrible awful
we antagonized her a bit and lured her around cuz. for SCIENCE i needed to get close to this creature and hear how she sounded, so i know what to listen for
she despawned eventually which sucks cuz it was right when i was gonna call upon my monster hunter skills and kick her ass but no she vanished (scared obviously)
THAT WASNT THE END THO, no of course not.. so we built our house in the same exact spot markiplier and his friends built theres. it looks pretty similar too (rock walls, 3 doors, you get it) and last time we played, we branched upwards to the area above us. so we built proper walls and weve got 3 cabins up there for each of us and its cute its our little base with our other watch towers
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i hate it up there!!! actually despise it, cuz of how the trees are and the hill its hard to see incoming threats, and we tend to log up there for convenience so. ITS EVEN WORSE when im trying to track several things with my ears at once. gotta listen for deer so i dont get scared, gotta tune out my friends chainsaw (i never log with the chainsaw for this reason, i need my ears so bad when im playing horror/survival games KSJFS), gotta listen for THREATS and look too im reallllll paranoid. IT SUCKS
last time we played, we got wormed, i didnt even see it because i was just hanging out up top finishing our walls and this bitch said "WORM." and she had ALREADY ziplined down to our main house since the cabins werent done yet. i was HORRIFIED because i didnt hear a damn thing!!!! i know worm is quieter but.. when SHE notices something before i do, something has gone wrong KSFJSF so.. it spawned behind, i forgot we had a zipline and threw myself (successfully) down the mountain by habit and i saw little worm bits fall down behind me before i quit the game
THIS TIME, it spawned behind her, and right in front of me while we were going to place the tower for the gliders
literally just glooped up from the ground i didnt even realize what i was looking at at first?? and i was like ah! WORM and we left the game so fast (we dont want that smoke hush)
but we got paranoid because. last time it spawned, she saved and THEN left, so it despawned and that was our worm spawn of the month right
but this time we both just LEFT so i was worried maybe it didnt save the spawn and it would spawn again, yknow? so bottom image is us both hiding up in the towers cuz i was. GENUINELY AFRAID TO TOUCH THE FLOOR
i thought it would just. POP UP BEHIND ME. i think we got really unlucky. cuz i dont think its meant to spawn AT US yknow? like i dont think its programmed to spawn where we are on purpose, its jsut really unlucky that BOTH TIMES it was RIGHT UP HERE SKFJSFS
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thats why i hate it up here, its worm hell!!!!! fuck all that
its fine tho we did it, we made our gliders and flew around a bit it was fun
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it sucked cuz like... we needed cloth and her cloth things were kinda bugged? cuz they werent respawning for her so.. IT WAS ALL ON ME and i HATE going anywhere in the forest. limited visibility, too far from the water, its all bad man
and the last few times!!! once was a cowman, 2nd was megan twice!!!!!!! so i was so fucking reluctant to go grab them but the last time we went, we put on our paint, we were careful (also i told this mfer i said bestie i need you to be my eyes while im trying to look for cloth and she said okay o7 and i turned around and shes like all the way down the hill not looking for me 💀💀)
we went in and got everything and no one even showed up!!! man i was nervous tho kSKFJS so we go it, finished our gliders and flew
overall, horrible day! everytime i got scared like when i was being chased my heart wouldnt even just drop, it would SEIZE UP it legitimately HURT
only good part is i realized i wanted to recreate my cabin in sons of the forest cuz i could put on overhang over my patio like i wanted to (mine is the house with the red icon)
anyways im fucking exhausted and i need to destress so im gonna keep writing my story lmao
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