Disclaimer: my character's occupations have nothing to do with people who have them in real life! This is just for entertainment and to create innteresting stories! <3
"The reason I put you down here, Y/N, is because you're my family, someone I care very much about. I have to teach you a lesson to make sure that you donāt do anything dumb. Youāre a danger to yourself. You need me to take care of you, to teach you what is right and wrong. If only you didnāt do such stupid things I wouldnāt have to do these hurtful things. You know I love you. Say it back, Y/N. Say that you love me. Good girl/boy' ā Silas "in the basement"
Dr Kry
Doctor, manipulative, violent, cold, stoic, modest, kind of old fashioned personality wise. Gets what he wants and does what he likes. [Male]
"Deep down, I know you're scared of me. You can pretend as much as you want, but you forget that I'm a doctor. I can read your body language better than anyone else. And do you know what I can read? That you're absolutely terrified of me" ā Dr Kry "deja vu / welcome home"
King Edmund
King of a fantasy kingdom, lovesick, ruthless, selfish and entitled. He will burn down this world to get what he wants ā you. [Male] (platonic with males)
"Keep your eyes on me. There's only you and me in this world ā in our own world ā no one else. The guards, theyāre looking at you. Gawking even. Wishing that they had whatās mine. Pretty pathetic, donāt you think? To be jealous of me? As if they could ever be on my level. You must have hit your head or something with all the absurd questions youāre asking today. No one is on my level ā of course ā but youāre far, far better than any of the other people in this kingdom. Donāt try to insult yourself by saying that youāre like them ever again, Y/N. I donāt like that. Iām so fucking obsessed with you, Y/N. You make me crazy. I can never let you go. Youāre so perfect" ā Edmund "in our own world"
Jerry
Mafia right hand (wo)man, flirty, sexual, dirty minded, sarcastic, ruthless, tsundere. [Female]
āMy stupid, little boy/girl. You donāt know anything, do you? You need me to think for you, hm? Donāt worry, baby, I will make sure you never dare to do any of these stupid stuff again. Iāll break you until thereās not a single thought in your headā ā Jerry "Break you"
āY-You think Iām wasting my time with you? Please donāt say that! I really love you, Y/N ā¦ a lot. Much, much more than you could ever imagine. I-Iād bring down the moon for you! Iād give you every diamond in the world! Iād ā¦ Iād kill for you! Please donāt leave me. I-I donāt care what other people say! Iāve never been happier than when I met you! I want you. I donāt want anyone else. Please ā¦ please donāt let this end. You love me too, donāt you?
We donāt need other peopleās approval. We only need each other, right?ā ā Hedwig "I'd kill for you!"
Good Vibrations {jeff the killer} {eyeless jack} {ben drowned} - in which you own a vibrator
Sick Days - The Creepypasta guys are feeling a little under the weather. You, their lovely partner, spend the day taking care of them (whether they like it or not).
A Little R & R (Rest and Relaxation, Raw and Rough) - From breaking and entering, to scaring you half to death, the proxies have never been conventional lovers. So why would relaxing with you after a hard day at work be any different?
The Quiet Violence Of Wanting - Helplessness, guilt, remorse, and isolationāall unacceptable emotions when youāre a proxy. Youāve got blood on your hands, and purposeful or not, the cops donāt care. Their job is so take you in. Itās okay to need savingāespecially if itās from a pretty killer lady whoāll do anything to make you squeal.
Seven Minutes in Heaven {jeff the killer} {tim wright} {eyeless jack} - Slenderās gone, the mansion is empty, and everyone has pent up rage they need to let out through illegal substances. And what better way to settle a squabble than through a good old-fashioned party game?
headcannons
All headcannon/reaction posts under this tag!
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Creepypasta Men Twitter Links - Part 2
Creepypasta Men Twitter Links - Part 3
Creepypasta Women Twitter Links
Creepypasta Twitter Links - Multi Edition
reactions
Sitting on their lap
blurbs
{one} {two} {three} {four}
one-shots
Do You Think About Her? - Jeff liked to tease Toby about his lack of experience with women. So, when coming home from a mission with the two, you decide to tell Jeff off, spurring him into a jealous fit to see how far he can push you both.
Clean Knife, Bloody Blade - When you refuse to get out of bed due to terrible cramps, Jeff tries his best to coax you back. But when you cry and whine to him, the killer presses to resolve your problem, willing to do whatever he can to helpā¦
Three's A Crowd - Video games can be emotionally intense, especially when youāre butting heads with the two idiots yelling at each other. So when Jeff and Ben decide to break their tie in another way, you find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time: right in the middle.
It's Not The Same Without You - Words hurt. Alice knows what itās like to be the brunt of the joke. So, when an easy mission turns into a disaster that reopens old wounds, she spirals. Jeff doesnāt understand, worries he did something wrong, and seeks help from the only person he can think ofāBen. Wise words and a knock on the head are all Jeff needs to swoop Alice back into his arms and prove to her just how perfect she really isāin the language they both speak best.
Double-Edged - Itās not unnatural for brothers to fightāthatās just what they do. But when those fights turn to near-death squabbles and punches are thrown hard enough to break necks, somebody has to step in. Unfortunately, that somebody has to be you.
series
Coming Soon
headcannons
General - Basic, SFW, and NSFW head-cannons. My personal thoughts, feelings, and opinions about Jeff as a character.
blurbs
{one} {two} {three} {four}
one-shots
Just Relax - Youāre stressed. Jack knows how to fix that.
Restless - Your demon boyfriend is struggling with a wave of insomnia. Youāre willing to do whatever you can to help him relax.
A Hunterās Moon - Beneath late summer nights, Jack always found you. Human and monster, two different worlds separated by a picket fence. But when he didn't return, you set out to look for him. You find him in rut, in pain, in the ache of something like loveāand what kind of friend would you be if you refused him?
Monster Of Flesh, Eat Me Whole {part 1} {part 2} - Creating life is no easy feat, but sustaining it is a whole different realm. Youāre a widowed scientist calling on the power of the heavenās themselves to bring your love back to you. But the townspeople only see you as a witch, a monsterāand it only worsens when a very large shadow begins to follow you around, especially when he begins to eat the livestock.
series
On Unholy Terms {part 1} - Youāre an exorcist sent by the church to investigate a graveyard deemed to be unholy. After stumbling upon a ādemonā, your determination quickly falters.
headcannons
General - Basic, SFW, and NSFW head-cannons. My personal thoughts, feelings, and opinions about Jack as a character.
blurbs
{one} {two} {three}
one-shots
Do You Think About Her? - Jeff liked to tease Toby about his lack of experience with women. So when coming home from a mission with the two, you decide to tell Jeff off, spurring him into a jealous fit to see how far he can push you both.
Return The Favor - Stumbling in on your neighborās chopped-up body, an unlikely friendship forms between you and Toby. Striking a deal, you agree to help the killer and his friends, buying them the necessary prescriptions. But when one visit turns to multiple, Toby becomes curious, finding a not-so-subtle love note hidden away.
My Muse - What if the Creepypasta characters were real-life killers idolized the same way horror movie slashers were? Kids dressing up as Ghostface or Pennywise? More like kids decorated as Jeff the Killer or Slenderman! You chose to dress as your favorite mass murderer, Ticci Toby- and, oh, how he couldnāt get enough of it. He had never seen someone look so good in his goggles.
I Hate That Boy - You hate Toby Rogers. Hate. Heās immature, and whiny, and gets in your way more often than not. Proxies are meant to work together, but you two just donāt. Fights are prone to happen, but when your hands accidentally find his throat, Toby accidentally finds out that he likes it. You hate him. And he hates you. So why can he suddenly not jerk off without thinking about your hands on his neck? Why does he want you to do it again??
series
Refuge For Two {part 1} - You decide to spend the weekend at your familyās cabin during a snowstorm after a particularly stressful week. When you find an injured Toby, your need to care for him turns into his need for you.
You And Your Friends {part 1} {part 2} {part 3}- When your name appears in your late great-uncleās will, you sell your house and move out to the Estate. A victorian manor, an endless garden, and too many candles to keep up with now belong to youāand so do the groundskeepers that come with it. But behind all the intricate furniture and shiny tile, you find that all things have secretsāeven the handsome ones.
headcannons
General - Basic, SFW, and NSFW head-cannons. My personal thoughts, feelings, and opinions about Toby as a character.
blurbs
{one}
one-shots
Behind The Veils - Hiking to capture the perfect sunrise photo for your portfolio, you stumble upon a supposedly abandoned cabin, your curiosity driving you to investigate. When you're met with two very large and very aggressive masked men, they decide that they'll put you to good use.
Let Me Hear You - Walking the same path every day while listening to music is your routine. Humming along, Masky makes it his routine to follow you. Until you wander somewhere you shouldnātā¦
Outrun, Undone - Your body hurt, heaving and clawing to escape. They were catching up, laughter echoing through the dense trees as you ran, praying for your stamina to hold. But you knew you werenāt fast enough, and so did theyā¦
Numb Fingers - Returning from a mission, the proxies get caught in a bad storm, causing them to seek refuge in a dingy motel. Theyāre rain-soaked, irritable, andāeven betterāthereās only one bed. They agree to keep it civilā¦ until the storm knocks the power out, and you find yourself growing very cold.
series
Run Rabbit Run {chapter 1} {chapter 2} {chapter 3} {chapter 4}- When a cop with a knack for interrogation, a suspect who wonāt break, and a game of cat and mouse where the truth is buried beneath layers of lies all unfold in a dingy police station, all hell breaks loose. Can he keep the mask on, or will the cost of truth destroy them both? Either way, Masky decides youāre not getting out of this unscathed.
You And Your Friends {part 1} {part 2} {part 3} - When your name appears in your late great-uncleās will, you sell your house and move out to the Estate. A victorian manor, an endless garden, and too many candles to keep up with now belong to youāand so do the groundskeepers that come with it. But behind all the intricate furniture and shiny tile, you find that all things have secretsāeven the handsome ones.
headcannons
Coming Soon
blurbs
{one}
one-shots
Keep It Rolling - You and your friend decide to see if you can find ghosts in an abandoned asylum as you record the whole thing. When you run into Hoodie, he thinks itād be fun to record you instead.
Behind The Veils - Hiking to capture the perfect sunrise photo for your portfolio, you stumble upon a supposedly abandoned cabin, your curiosity driving you to investigate. When you're met with two very large and very aggressive masked men, they decide that they'll put you to good use.
Outrun, Undone - Your body hurt, heaving and clawing to escape. They were catching up, laughter echoing through the dense trees as you ran, praying for your stamina to hold. But you knew you werenāt fast enough, and so did theyā¦
Donāt Kiss The Messenger - Letters, codes, word of mouthācarrying information is your specialty. The Slenderwoods are vast and diverse, so an impartial messenger is necessary to keep the peace. Your job is easy, your tasks are simple, and being nosy has its perks. But when one resident has an affinity for buying you drinks and keeping you company, you find it very hard to stay impartial after all.
Numb Fingers - Returning from a mission, the proxies get caught in a bad storm, causing them to seek refuge in a dingy motel. Theyāre rain-soaked, irritable, andāeven betterāthereās only one bed. They agree to keep it civilā¦ until the storm knocks the power out, and you find yourself growing very cold.
series
You And Your Friends {part 1} {part 2} {part 3} - When your name appears in your late great-uncleās will, you sell your house and move out to the Estate. A victorian manor, an endless garden, and too many candles to keep up with now belong to youāand so do the groundskeepers that come with it. But behind all the intricate furniture and shiny tile, you find that all things have secretsāeven the handsome ones.
headcannons
Frat Boy Brian - fraternity brother headcannons (pre-mh)
blurbs
{one} {two}
one-shots
Whispers In The Woods - Prepped your whole life to complete a ritual to hand yourself over to a monster, you demand the reason why. When he gives you the answers, he demands your body.
Take It - Nightmarish visions drive you to seek out their sender, constant paranoia driving you mad. But when you find out he intends to make you work for him, he realizes you canāt be broken like the others. So he must take a moreā¦ intensive approach.
series
Coming Soon
headcannons
Coming Soon
blurbs
Coming Soon
one-shots
Three's A Crowd - Video games can be emotionally intense, especially when youāre butting heads with the two idiots yelling at each other. So when Jeff and Ben decide to break their tie in another way, you find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time: right in the middle.
series
Coming Soon
headcannons
Coming Soon
blurbs
Coming Soon
one-shots
Don't Close Your Eyes Yet - From the first moment he laid his eyes on you at the fairgrounds, Jack knew he needed you. So going about it the only way he knew how, he began to give you dreams of him, preparing you for the night he would eventually take you himself.
Itās Just Your Imagination - Having an imaginary friend is a very normal part of childhood. What isn't normal, though, is when that imaginary friend begins to show up in the corners of your vision, leaving you presents and an uneasy feeling. What happens when babysitting a little boy turns into fending off his protector? The worst part? He thinks you're very, very pretty.
series
Coming Soon
headcannons
Coming Soon
blurbs
Coming Soon
one-shots
Smoke And A Light - When you're forced to remain a resident of the Slendermansion, hearing tales of the outside world is riveting. So, when Clockwork brings back some souvenirs, you couldn't possibly pass them up.
series
Coming Soon
headcannons
Coming Soon
blurbs
{one}
one-shots
Better Than Him - Nina wanted nothing more than to impress Jeff. So, as her best friend, she sought your help on how to get his attention. But when a quick lesson on how to kiss turns intense quickly, you feel it's only right to prove to her she's worth more than him.
Pretty Girl - The bar was Ninaās scene, her favorite place to be with you by her side. But when some creep tries to extract revenge in the middle of a crowd, youāre both forced to do what you do best. But when confidence falters, you have to show just how worthless guys like that can be.
I donāt care how disgusting or fucked up a fic is. NO writer should EVER be harassed for writing taboo fics, especially when the warnings are properly tagged and you choose to go ahead and read them on your own free will.
youāre not morally superior for harassing real people for the sake of fictional characters and fictional stories. youāre just a bully.
be overly edgy . be fucked up . lie to strangers online . be a pervert . stand up about what you believe is right . be proud . be extraordinarily yourself .
Warnings: Typical yandere stuff, dark content, kidnapping, forced labor, implies violence, bad parenting, bank robbery, other illegal activites Dante, insecurity, bad Italian.
A/N: Not my best work, but I don't hate it. I've got a part two and three planned, and these boys are now open for requests. I didn't think to stress this, but this is a period piece for the eighties. This is loosely based off the crime family from goonies, the fratellis. Please let me know what you think in the comments, I'm... iffy on the work.
Loose floorboards creak overhead, casting dust down into the dark basement you've been dwelling in for what feels like years. In actuality, its only been about a week.
It was a simple case of wrong place, wrong time. You were cashing a check from your fathers business at a local bank, when the sound of yelling and a gunshot rang out through the room. Headlines had been made a few weeks ago, about two brothers bring sprung from the local prison by an unknown assistant. They were locked up for all sorts of things, but armed robbery and counterfeiting being the primary one. When they had broken into the bank, alongside a smaller masked figure, you hadn't known what to do.
Unfortunately, with your father running for the mayoral spot, you had been recognized from a local campaign ad and bagged.
That's how you ended uo in the custody of the Bianchi crime family. They were not nearly as impressive as they sounded, given its only a mother and her two sons.
Frankie Bianci was the enforcer, the meathead who originally dragged you towards there getaway vehicle with large, meaty hands and a firm chest. From the brief conversations you've overheard, he's certainly the muscle and not the brains.
Dante, his older brother, lacks the muscle but has the brains. A lanky man with a constant sarcastic sneer and thick coke bottle glasses, you much prefer dealing with Frankie. Dumb as he is, he's not mean, not like Frankie. It's clear he suffers from a bit of a complex, he's definetly not Mama Bianci's favorite. You suspect he enjoys taking his frustration out on you and Frankie.
Lastly, Mama Bianci, the worst of the three. A short, near elderly woman with a wicked soul. She's violent, cruel, and the true puppet master of this operation. You never thought you'd be grateful for the brothers, but you'd make them ocasionally attending to you over her any day.
It's clear from the floorboards that they're home, you don't know or care where they've been. All you know is your momentary peace is shattered.
"Frankie, careful with the bags, you lunk!" Dante's tell-tale high pitched voice squeals upstairs, followed by the sound of a 'smack'. "You'll crush the tomatos-" Another, much harder smack. "Don't hit your brother, you little bastard."
"-Ow! Ma! Shit-" Another smack. "And don't cuss around your mother." The sound of some weak apologies barely make it through the floorboards, before you hear footsteps. Luckily for you, they sound pretty heavy. Frankie.
You don't even look up from where your sat, wrist chained to the radiator. Frankie enters, his head full of taken care of curls bounding with him. He always reminds you he's 'the good looking bianci'.
"Hey, piccolina. We're home." He says, signature big dumb grin on his face. You get the sende despite your hostage situation, he seems to think that you have some sort of camaraderie. "Ma's making her famous gnocchi. It's real good, got a tomato sauce with some riccotta-"
"What do you want?" You ask, hoping your defeated tone might make him realize you don't feel like chatting.
"Hm?" He seems to genuinely pause to think. "Just wanna talk. I'm not really allowed in the kitchen when ma and Dante are cooking. I got butta' fingers." He jokes. You just grimace when he slides down the wall to sit on the dusty floor beside you. "I ever tell you we owned a restaurant? We did when I was little. We weren't clean or nothing, we still did some extortion, but the restaurants was decent to." You get the feeling this will be a long story.
"My dad ran the business back then, my ma was the chef. Frankie was a hostess." He snickers. "He says he was a host, but I always thought his apron made him look molto bella. Means 'very beautiful'." He seems to be cracking himself up, and not really caring that you aren't reacting. "I was the busboy, cause I could hold all the trays and plates." He flexes a bicep, trying to gauge your reaction. When you don't react, he just untenses and glances away awkwardly. "Uh- yeah. When my dad died, we sold the restaurant and went straight to crime. Which kinda sucks. I mean, I like busting heads, but- we were about to make a mint!"
"Like... money?" You can't help but ask. Seems like a really old term for him to use.
"Huh? No, a mint. Like one of the butta ones, little imprint with the restaurant name on it. Would've put em at the front, with all day toothpicks-"
You return to tuning him out, but despite yourself, his excitement at the idea of a diner mint is sort of amusing. Soon, an especially sour and slightly bruised Dante comes down, raise a brow.
"What's wrong with you?" He sneers, narrowing his eyes. "You getting friendly with the payday?"
"We're just talking, Dante. I was telling Piccolina here about the restaurant. Remember, we was gonna make a-"
"A mint, oh my god, I know. You and the fucking mint, Jesus christ!" Dante throws his hands up in exasperation, silencing the larger man. "Ugh, ma wants you, dinners almost ready, and she needs something from the high shelf."
"Can't you get it?" Frankie asks; just genuinely confused. His brothers pretty tall, despite his other more awkward features.
"Of course I can, you know how she gets. Mama wants her big, strong, baby boy. Go make yerself useful." Dante spits. Frankie just shrugs and gets up, back cracking a bit from sitting on such uncomfortable concrete. Part of him wonders if ma wouldn't let him move you.
"Alright, I'm going." He turns to you, brushing thick fingers over your locks. "Bye bye, piccolina. I'll bring you some dinner, huh? S' real good..." he coos, that same dumb grin. Dante makes a sound which emanates disgust.
You've begun to realize escape is hopeless. Frankie is the only one whose remotely kind to you, and despite yourself, you speak. "Bye, Frankie."
He lights up like a boy on christmas, looking at his brother to see if he heard too. Dante has already buried himself in his work, but Frankie just waves it off, bounding happily up the stairs. "Coming, ma!"
Dante isn't much for conversation, and for that you're glad. He just slinks back upstairs after getting the printer, the one they use for counterfeiting, working.
It's not long before you hear another argument break out. "Ma, there's no gnocchi left, s' all sauce. I barely got any, Frankie ate the whole pot."
"He needs it!" Her crackly voice makes you shiver. The few times you've been injured since you got here were all because of her. Though, you should consider yourself lucky, Frankie is her enforcer. You can't imagine being hit with his brick like fists. "He's a growing boy."
"Growing boy-" Dante gapes. "He's six two, ma! He grows anymore he won't fit in the van- ah!" The telltale, slightly wet sound of a sauce covered wooden spoon hitting flesh. You smile a bit. "Don't argue with your mutha!"
"Yeah, Dante. I gotta eat big to stay big." Frankie coos, and the gobbling sounds that follows emphasize his point. "Whatever, I'm eating downstairs, I'll take my sauce-soup to go." A chair skids and slams, as Dante slinks downstairs.
"Ey' meal ticket. Dinner." He drops a small saucer with about three gnocchi and some sauce at your feet. "Go on, eat it."
"Not hungry." You mumble. "I-I don't want anything from you." He pauses, then snatches the food back up.
"Fine, you uppity bitch. More for me, God knows I need it with that pig upstairs." He dumps your bowl into his. "That whiny nonsense may work with my brother, but I'm not here to make friends with you. You're lucky we feed you at all." He flops onto the worn couch, not even eating his hard earned food. Instead, he takes a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and starts to light up. The tv plays some sort of fishing show; maybe a documentary.
After a few minutes, he notices you looking. "Neva seen a guy smoke before?" He asks, jolting his head forward, then back, like a snake.
"It's gross. And it smells." You mumble. He rolls his eyes. "God, its not a hotel, sweetheart, you're chained to a radiator. Smoking should be the least of your worries. Takes the edge off. You think I'm bad now, you don't wanna see me without my nic." He pauses, then rolls his head over to you. The look in his eyes makes you shiver.
"In fact-" he takes the cigarette out of his mouth. "A few drags might make you less of a bitch." You try to press back against the radiator as he flips the cancer-stick around, nearing your lips. "Cmon, open up."
"Stop it- I don't wanna." You sniffle, trying to dodge the cigarette. "Knock it off, please."
"No- you wanted to comment, you gotta try it. 'Don't judge lest ye be judged'. Catholics, we take that seriously, you know?" He's like a cat whose finally caught a single mouse, cornered it. His free hand grabs your wrist, tight enough that you let out a hiss of pain. Unfortunately for you, he takes this opportunity to slide the foul tasting stick between your lips.
You gag, breathing in the smoke and immediately coughing, hacking. "Okay, that's your own fault, don't inhale." He laughs. The tears welling in your eyes remain, as you try to take another drag, hoping to get it over with. "T-there-" You cough. "Happy?"
He pauses, thinking, then shakes his head. "Nah. Smoke it all, don't be a baby. You might get a taste for it." Your lips barely clamp around the cigarette, weak and trying to inhale as little as possible. It never gets less unpleasant, but the slow inhales and exhales become more steady. It's not long till it's down to a butt, and he takes it away from your lips. "See? Now you can judge." He strolls back to the couch.
"I heard coughing, did you swallow another cigarette?" Frankie calls, poking his head down into the basement. When he sees your reddish, teary eyes and smudged lipstick; he knows what's happened. "Hey- hey! What's wrong with you, you got a screw loose?" He exclaims, kicking his smug brothers shin as he walks by. "Ma!"
"Here he goes- little snitch-"
"Ma! Dante's making the hostage smoke!" He yells.
"She like it?" His ma calls back. "Well- no-"
"Then good on him, let your brother do what he's gotta do. Being a hostage ain't pleasant, baby." She calls, clearly annoyed. "Now don't botha me, my soaps are on!"
Dante earns a glare from his younger brother, which only serves to fuel his satisfied grin. Frankie kneels down, and sees the empty saucer. "He take your food, piccolina?"
"She didn't want it, threw a fit. Besides, smoking helps with appetite." Dante breaks into a fit of laughter at his own joke. Frankie ignores him.
"S' okay, you gotta try Ma's cooking. Cmon, I saved you some from my plate, open up." He produces a worn Tupperware, and you reluctantly take the fork. The one cigarette has made you nauseous enough to want something, anything to settle your stomach. "There ya go, good huh! Dante actually makes the sauce, he's pretty good at it."
Dante perks up for a moment at the praise; only to frown when and roll his eyes when his brother makes a remark about him 'making a good housewife'.
The food is incredible, but it does little to tamper the fact that you're still chained up in a basement... to a radiator. Dante keeps watching the tv, ocasionally casting a glance over at you and getting annoyed with the way Frankie watches you with puppy dog eyes.
"Good huh?" Frankie asks.
"Yeah, good. Really good."
"See? Not all bad. The food is five star. You won't get this anywhere else. Not since the restaurant closed." You get the sense that's supposed to be a joke, and give him a pity smile.
Eventually, the evening winds down, and you try your best to slumber. Sometime, late in the night, you're awoken from the rough press of concrete against your arm, which you've been using as a pillow, to the sound of stuttering machinery.
"Shit-" a rough kick goes to the base of the printer, with an even more flustered than usual Dante standing to its side. "Damn machine."
"Dante, turn that damn machine down, I'm getting beauty sleep!" MamanBianci is always worse when shes sleepy. "And don't work in the dark, you'll ruin your eyes." Her voice trails off.
"Sorry, ma." Dante calls. The machine clangs as it tries to process a command, letting out a stuttering sound. Dante lights a candle, and then tries to focus on the machine. He chews at his nails, a frequent nervous habit of him. After another loud crash, he flinches, beginning to pace. "Damn machine-" he notices you staring.
"What are you staring at?" He snaps, and you flinch. "Did you break it?" You ask, wanting to prod back a bit for all he's done to you so far. "Can you fix it?"
"Of course I can!" He spits, momentarily enraged, before he clinches his fists, then relaxes them. "Fine. I'm fine. I can fix it." He starts to fiddle with it, mumbling to himself, before it jerks, then begins to print some suspiciously dollar bill looking sheets. He sighs, and stands. "Finally."
"I bet you got lucky." You mumble, and immediately feel an empty can hit your forehead. "Ow- shit, what was that for?" You're to angry to be scared right now, shocked. "Don't be a brat." He snaps, striding over to where you're cuffed. He shoves a slightly ink-stained fingers in your face, making you flinch back.
"You're lucky the only one who has time to deal with you is my bleeding heart brother, if it were me or ma, you wouldn't even have to hands left to cuff." He spits, making you pale. He's so close to you know, same dark curls and eyes as Frankie, but so much colder. Narrowed, angry. Yet, wounded. "You think your tough? Huh? Oh- pick on the skinny one, the little guy? You forget that you're still at our mercy?"
"I'm sorry! Sorry!" You sputter, curling in on yourself. "It's just- the can hurt. I got angry, didn't mean it."
He seems pleased at this, standing back up and nodding. "Yeah, yeah. I'm the one in charge here. I'm smarter than you, better than you. And I'm gonna continue to be till your daddy pays up and we can ship your ass off." He jolts forward again, making you flinch. He chuckles, going back to work.
It's suddenly overwhelming, messing with you. The situation your in, the cold concrete and the tight cuffs. The fear of being hurt more; or worse. Missing your family. Tears well again, as your lip wobbles. You begin to sniffle, trying to hug yourself as best you can with your limited movement.
After a few minutes of soft crying, there's a groan. "God, stop with the sniffling-" he spins in his chair to face you. "It's distracting. Are you that much of a baby? Can't handle being told to stop being a brat?"
You're too upset to even respond, rubbing at your eyes. "Sorry."
He winces, looking slightly pained, like a man on a plane with a screaming baby. "Its annoying just- make yourself useful. Come here and help me feed the paper through the machine. If you're gonna be up, you should help out."
To your suprise, he undoes the cuffs, but yanks you up by your collar, dragging you over to the machine. He shows you how to feed sheets through the opening, occasionally commenting on your technique.
Soon, another, pretty convincing sheet of bills is printed. "Impressive, I know." He chuckles.
"I guess." You mumble. "You didn't do it by yourself."
"Right, you held the paper. But I fixed the damn machine, and I usually run it by myself." He leans in. "You think that lunk could do this? He doesn't even like the machine, he's a baby about all the work it takes. All he knows is punching."
Everything is a dick measuring competition between the brothers. It seems like Dante can't make a comment about something he's proud of without trying to tear his brother down. To be fair, you've seen Frankie acting like a bully from a cheesy movie, hoarding his strength over his brother and stealing his glasses. You get the feeling things have always been this way.
"He's your family. You- should at least try and get along." You suggest, feeling awkward. This is the most Dante has ever spoken to you without getting distracted or fighting with Frankie.
"Wha- why do you care? You think I need advice on family matters from someone whose daddy hasn't even tried to get them back?" He sneers, shaking his head. He sets aside the sheet and has you start feeding another through the machine. "He's an idiot. All muscle, and he ain't right in the head. Telling me about morals, you're not the pope." He continues to ramble on, grumbling to himself angrily. You get the sense he's not interested in talking to you anymore.
When a few more sheets have gone through, he drags you back over to the corner, and puts your cuffs back on. "You weren't that bad. I mean- on the machine. Might make you work again, speeds it up." It's an order, but he's phrasing it like an offer. And invitation. "Rest up. I'm sure Frankie will wanna talk your ear off in the morning, and we'll have work to do."
He stands, hands in his pockets, and turns to the door.
"Dante?" You whisper, looking up. You hope, since you've been useful, he'll grant you a request. "Would you please put out the candle. I- i don't like things being lit when I can't put them out-"
"God, stop yapping. I'll do it, jesus." He snuffs the light. "You're as bad as that scaredy cat upstairs. Hush up, lay down." You close your eyes, and don't notice how he lingers at the door momentarily.
Back up in his bedroom, Frankie watching a shitty Italian soap with the captions on. Dante was always better at Italian than he was, but he still likes to watch the movies he grew up with. The chunky tv his ma let him bring upstairs is cheap and low quality, black and white, but he doesn't mind. On the screen, some handsome lothario is wooing a lady, a hand extended with a rose towards her. He smiles, as the man declares his love, for his 'piccolina'.
In his chest, he knows your a hostage, and that he's stood by while his Ma did horrible things to you. But, that's how she is, nothing can be done. What he can do, is act on how you make him feel. Every time he sees you sniffling away, or quiet, he feels like he's gotta check on your. Not to mention, you're so, so pretty. You listen to him, you don't nod along but ignore like ma, or tell him to fuck off like Dante. You sit and hang on his every word. He doesn't like to think about the fact you have no choice. Just... let him live in his delusion.
Across the hall, grunting and flipping onto his mattress, Dante is ready for bed after another long, complicated day with his shitty family. Sliding off his shirt, only his tank remains. When removing his jeans, he empties his pockets. Some change, from when Frankie insisted on using the claw machine at the store. A bottlecap from his soda, and... a cigarette butt. He stares, stares at the light stain of your lipstick around what remains of the scorched paper. His mind wanders back momentarily to the way you looked at him. Eyes full of tears, coughing, but still AT him. Only him, not his ma, or his brother, him.
The way you listened when he snapped at you to run the machine. Obedient. He was in charge, you needed him. Needed him to get your mind off the fear and anxiety, even if he was partly to blame.
He scoffs. He realizes how crazy it is, staring at a piece of trash and fantasizing about the girl chained up in downstairs. A business transaction, all this is. No need to get worked up over nothing. "Stupid." He grunts, tossing away the bottle cap. However... the cigarette butt doesn't go in the trash. As if on instinct, he lays it on his night stand.
Both brothers would rather ignore the feelings being stirred up, but they can't help but wonder if there's anyway you might be feeling the same. Dante has to force himself to stop pondering if Stockholm is real, and Frankie just tries to focus on the way the woman in the movie he acts. He's had girls, plenty. He's a ladies man. So... are you giving him signs? Is he just not noticing.
For once, you do sleep better than the brothers Bianci.
āare you listeningā no actually iām currently trying not to get wet at the thought of getting violently pounded into a mattress but feel free to go on
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