your boyfriend is nice, your boyfriend is sweet, but your boyfriend is also a serial killer. ārelax, itās just a dead body,ā he tells you like he hadnāt just hit a man on the head with a brick hard enough to crack his skull. well, at least he did it to defend you? or ā scaramouche kills people and you have the worldās biggest āi can fix himā complex. (modern au)
crack, comedy, a few people die but who cares, scara is soft for one person and one person only and thatās you, āi would kill for you, in fact, i have killed for you.ā āhoney, did you take your meds today?ā - scara and reader
You were never a fan of true crime documentaries, or horror movies, or gory shows, or anything that involved excessive blood spraying and lightless eyes staring into the camera.
So, it would stand to reason that at the first sign of your boyfriend being more than into those kinds of things, you wouldāve turned tail and ran as far away as you can, right?
Unfortunately, youāve always been blind to the color red.
ā¦Figurative red, that is, because the red seeping through your couch and the ones coated on your boyfriendās hands are definitely visible to you, bright and dripping and most definitely staining your pristine white rugs that you just bought last week. Ah, how are you going to explain that to the laundry lady?
āScara, honey, what did I say about killing other people?ā you ask, voice visibly strained.
He sneers at the face of the dead guy sitting haphazardly on your couch. āI didnāt like the way he was looking at you.ā
You sigh.
-
It wasnāt always like this, with the whole blood viscera happy-murder thing.
Your boyfriend, Scaramouche, had this odd habit of being so immersed in the news, a little smile lighting up his face (which youād thought was cute at the time and, well, you still do) whenever the reporter gets to the local murders that used to have you shaking in fear on your bed.
He was charming though. A little possessive, but that was a trait you also thought was quite endearingāand, if youāre being honest, you still do. Scaramouche had a vast collection of sharp knives, some small and practically harmless (or as harmless as a knife can be) and othersā¦ not so harmless. You didnāt question it because he often cooked for you, your brain chalking it up to him using those knives for it.
It wasnāt until you were walking home alone from university that you discovered his little hobby of, well, killing people who inconvenienced you and him. Mostly people who inconvenienced you though, which was disturbing but also flattering in a crazy sort of way.
āRelax, itās just a dead body,ā he told you like he hadnāt just hit a man on the head with a brick hard enough to crack his skull.
You were cowering on the alleyās wall, eyes wide and knees shaking as you watched your supposedly nice and caring boyfriend wipe away the blood on his hand like itās a normal occurrence. And when he grinned down at the body, something almost satisfied in his eyes, you realized that he was the cause for all the recent murders popping up in the city.
Now, the thing about this is that you should have run away screaming bloody murder, maybe call the cops or even do the sensible thing like break up with your boyfriend whoās apparently a psycho.
And you would have done it, if he just hadnāt been soā¦ soā¦
He turned to you with concern shining in his eyes, stepping over the corpse of the man whoād pointed a pocket knife at you and tried to rob you. With hands still slicked with blood, he cradled your face and pressed a kiss to your forehead. āItās a good thing you werenāt hurt.ā
ā¦sweet.
And as he pulled you away from the crime scene, dragging you home and running a hot bath for you both, asking you what you wanted for dinner like he hadnāt just murdered someone in front of you, you finally calmed down and saw the truth of the matter.
Yes, your boyfriend is quite possibly a serial killer, yes, you might just be making the worst decision of your life, and yes, youāre well aware this is because of all the wattpad bad boy stories you consumed when you were young, but youāll be damned if you let Scaramouche go. He was kind (at least, to you he is), he was charming (when he wanted to be), he was a great cook, he was good with kids and the elderly, he was smart, and finally, he would never cheat on you.
So, while there might be the unfortunate addition of him being a little too happy with the idea of killing someone (have, in fact, killed someone, multiple someones at that), he was also the perfect boyfriend you could ask for. He just needs a little guidance, is all.
The next day, he proudly showed you the severed hand of a man who once made you cry because he groped you.
ā¦Okay, a lot of guidance, but you can manage, youāve read tons of bad boy turns good after falling in love type of stories. How difficult can it be to have your murderous boyfriend change his ways?
-
Quite difficult, as it turns out.
A quick google on why people become murderers brought up a lot of questions and concerns for you, and while youāre well aware that google isnāt exactly the most reliable place when it comes to looking for advice, itās also the only place you can go to without getting arrested for assisted murderāeven though youāve never actually helped Scaramouche when he goes all ham crazy on the general populace.
You sit him down on your couch, which was now free of blood thanks to googleās advice and good olā handy-dandy hydrogen peroxide.
Like this, facing each other and holding his hands, it almost seems like an actual, legitimate therapy session, minus the whole licensed psychiatrist thing. But hey, youāve read tons of articles on the internet, so while you may be lacking in some aspects (namely, the fact that you donāt have any idea what youāre doing and arenāt qualified at all to be your crazy boyfriendās therapist), youāre confident you can just wing it.
āBaby,ā you start. Calling him endearments was an advice you picked up from reddit. A kind user named ballz3000 said that referring to them sweetly using innocent pet names can make them softer and calm their homicidal tendencies. āYou know I donāt like it when you bring home dead bodies.ā
According to another user named yn-yournuts, being open and communicating your feelings is the first step to establishing a healthy relationship and, consequently, a better mental state.
āIt wouldāve been difficult hiding the body at daytime,ā he grouches, but he still keeps a gentle hold on your hands, which is a good thing. Baby steps, you tell yourself, baby stepsāeven though those baby steps might as well be called snail steps, wait, snail slithers.
āThen you shouldāve waited until it was dark or midnight to kill him,ā comes your immediate responseāwait, damn it! Youāre supposed to encourage him to steer away from murder, not give him advice on how to do it better. Smiling, you attempt to salvage the situation, āBut, of course, it would be better to not kill anyone at all.ā
Itās too late. Heās already donning a contemplative look on his face that soon turns into a grin, leaning in and briefly slotting his lips against yours.
āThanks for the suggestion. Iāll be more careful next time, love,ā is all he says before getting up and abruptly ending your impromptu therapy session.
And admittedly, there must be something wrong with you too, because instead of being horrified at his words, you giggle to yourself.
This is the first time he called you love!
-
Alright, so operation therapy failed, itās now time to charge in like a boar. Straightforwardness is always good according to that one article you found in google made by Hugh G. Bawles.
The two of you were in bed, the lights already turned off, when you took a deep breath and began preparing what you were going to say to him to prevent any more innocent people being killed.
Scara, I donāt like it when you kill people.
Baby, donāt show me anymore dead body parts.
Why did you become a murderer?
Sometimes, I feel like weāre a normal couple, but then youāll suddenly go and casually bring me a bloody finger as a gift.
But instead of saying any of those, what comes out of your mouth is,
āDarling, I think youāre just confusing your constipation for homicidal urges.ā
In hindsight, maybe attempting to start a heart to heart talk in the middle of the night just before a morning class was a bad idea.
You wait a few seconds, then minutes, and when he showed no signs of responding, you turn your head only to find him with his eyes closed and sound asleep.
Fine, youāll just have to try again tomorrow.
-
You share exactly one class with Scaramouche and itās philosophy. Unfortunately, itās also the class with the worst professor known to mankind.
āAh, I got a low gradeā¦ā you mutter to yourself, looking down at your essay forlornly.
Your boyfriend takes one peak at your paper and immediately scowls. āYou spent an entire night writing that.ā He turns a glare to the professor currently ignorant of the murderer sitting in his class. āThat asshole shouldāve given you a perfect score. Maybe I should give him a little visit.ā
You calmly take his hand under the table and squeeze it, all too used to him casually alluding to killing other people. āDear, we talked about this. What do we do when weāre having homicidal thoughts?ā
He looks down the table, brows furrowed in a sulking manner. āDonāt do it.ā
You beam, proud at him for remembering the one thing you keep reminding him whenever he brings a dead body back to your house.
The blonde twins seated in front of you turn their head in horror after overhearing your conversation.
āWhat are you looking at?ā Scaramouche sneers at the same time you say, āWeāre roleplaying.ā
āRightā¦ā the long haired twin you distinctly remember was named Aether mumbles before he ushers his sister to ignore the two of you.
Oh well, at least you managed to stop one person from dying today. User tojiscrustysock on twitter always says you should take whatever victories you can, so youāll consider this a resounding success.
-
When you open the news next morning, the face of your professor is the first thing you see along with the words, found dead near his home.
You turn to your boyfriend sitting beside you, an innocent look on his face as you look at him with disappointment.
āMy hand slipped,ā is the flimsy excuse he settles for.
Sighing and utterly out of options, youāre forced to resort to the one thing you didnāt want to do. The worst possible option there is. If thereās going to a therapist and potentially getting arrested kind of worst, thereās this kind of worstāthe absolute worst of the worst.
Imagine if fatui Scaramouche ever got to encounter Albedo
The parallel and contrast between them is insaneāAlbedo yearning for the very thing that happened to āruinā Scaramoucheās life is *chefs kiss* (I also wanted to draw scaramouche letting everything out and crying and breaking down)
kiki i went to dennyās yesterday and i thought of us and our 2D boyfriends as i drank my shitty coffee <3
į“É“ Źį“É“į“
Jess, I started writing this after you wrote Bail Out and then got stuck and then accidentally published it unfinished and then quickly set it as private so I wouldn't lose it. I had to go digging, but I have finished it in lieu of this ask š¤
You and Reigen get arrested for fighting in a Denny's parking lot at 4 AM. After your friends graciously bail you both out, you somehow wind up back at fucking Denny's.
Implied f!reader but no pronouns mentioned. I headcanon this gag trope that Reigen talks about his job and Mob and Dimple and such, but every time his s/o comes around, they just so happen to leave or get drawn into some other ordeal. Takes place before the divine tree arc. I guess in some kind of way this could be considered a fluff piece.
"I can't believe they let us back in here," you grumble as you huddle yourself in the corner on the booth, trying to keep as far away from the intolerable blonde man sitting on the same side as you. Your friend/saving grace/one true shining beacon of hope that the world is a good place sits across from you next to her boyfriend, who is barely more tolerable than your own, but at least he hasn't gotten you arrested.
"Honey, we see someone pull a gun out in here at least once a week. Your little lovers quarrel in the parking lot ain't nothin'," the waitress says as she fills the coffee cups around the table, completely numb to the fuckery of overnight diner shifts.
"Did you happen to get this one punching him in the face on camera?" Your friend's boyfriend asks as he gestures towards you, earning him a jab to the ribs.
"Oh please, they're old news on Tokkipon," the waitress says before leaving the table. You cringe at the mention of the infamous account that posts submitted photo and video highlights of your prefecture's notorious trashy behavior. You hope she's right. It was less than 5 hours ago when you were hauled away in the back of a cop car, throwing over-exaggerated looks of disgust at Reigen who was making stupid taunting faces at you through the window of the separate patrol car he was in.
"Already at 300-thousand views!" The tall guy across from you exclaims with his phone in hand. Your friend sheepishly peeks the screen, though she at least tries to act disinterested for your sake.
"Hmmm," Reigen muses and you roll your eyes, knowing exactly how the gears of his mind work. "I could use this exposure to boost my brand."
You slap your hands on the table and groan.
"I have to pee. Move."
Though you don't give him the chance, climbing over him and purposely stomping on his leg as you exit the booth. You don't actually need the bathroom, just need to get away from him. Your friend quickly excuses herself to follow you - the law of women forbidding her from allowing you to travel to the bathroom alone. That, and she's eager to hear what went down. The only thing you had said when you called was, "I'm in jail. There's several wads of cash in my underwear drawer at home if you need it. Plan to bail for two."
"Are you okay?" She asks as soon as the swinging door closes behind you. You do a quick scan to make sure no one else is in the stalls before you rant.
"Well, I have assault and battery on my record now. I'm dogshit tired. I met some of the saddest, roughest women I've ever encountered in my life in the holding cell. And I don't think Reigen and I can recover from this. But, yeah. I think I'm more okay than most people would be," you say, honestly too exhausted to really feel much of anything except acceptance.
"He didn't fight you back? Did he?"
"Nah, there was a cop in the parking lot who saw the whole thing and came running over."
"Then why did Reigen get arrested too?"
"Well the cops were just gonna take me, but he kept saying things to piss me off. He was so irritating and persistent that they decided to take him in as well for interfering with their duties because he kept interrupting," you explain as you make your way over to one of the sinks. You catch your reflection, looking quite disheveled and you make your best attempt to smooth down your hair.
"What even got you two in it in the first place?"
You stay silent with your lips pressed into a tight line.
"Don't tell me-"
"It's the fucking broccoli!" You lament, voice bouncing off the tiled bathroom. At first you thought it was funny, like an inside joke between you and Reigen that he had anything to do with skyscraper vegetable incident. But between that, and the mysterious Mob that always seems to leave right before you come around, as well as some other fishy circumstances that he blames on spirits, you wonder if the jokes are just him playing you for a fool.
"How dumb does he think I am? I get that his job is all about bullshitting, but to think he can try and bullshit me too? Fuck him and all his stupid psychic bullshit and his stupid little imaginary friends. It's all made up! Everything! It just makes me think, what else could he be making up as well? Is he insane, or just an asshole? Or both? And yet he makes me feel like I'm insane and an asshole! Why do I even like him?"
"I mean, do you have any other explanation for the giant broccoli other than a psychic phenomenon?" Your friend tries to reason. Bless her heart.
"It's obviously a government experiment in trying to solve world hunger," you huff, feeling quite confident in your conclusion. You had scoured enough tinfoil forums to be convinced of the theory.
"It's a giant broccoli in the middle of our city! You can't come at it with logic like that! Just like you can't logic your way around being in love with him."
"You take that back!" You gasp, horrified despite the truth to all her points. "I only love you, not that weasel out there."
"Who? My weasel or yours?" She jokes, and you manage a chuckle at the burn to her own lover.
"You two are cute. Wish Reigen and I could be- could've been more like that," you sigh. In another life where you had a better temper and he knew how to be serious for one second, then maybe.
"Aw, don't talk like that! I'm sure you'll be okay after some mediocre pancakes and bacon," she assures you.
"Nothing like a Grand Slam to cover up my abuser status." It's only a half-joke that does little ease the weighty feeling in your chest. If Reigen had been the one who punched you, you certainly would not be sharing coffee and breakfast with him.
"Quit it! You're not a monster! His teeth aren't even loose!"
You accept it for now, too tired to make any argument against her. Your rough reflection seems to stare back at you with condescending pity, and you accept that too with another sigh. You exit the bathroom with your friend in tow, feeling a little weird and anxious about going back to the table and having to sit next to the man who you'll probably be seeing for the last time. However, something else makes you stop in your tracks when you catch sight of your table.
"What's wrong?" You friend asks as she peeks around your shoulder.
"They're," you feel your skin go cold, "getting along."
Your friend laughs and keeps walking, seemingly delighted at the sight of the two men excitedly showing each other their phone screens. You, on the other hand, can't find the joy in the budding friendship between her boyfriend and your....boyfriend, for now. Despite the headache forming behind your eyeballs, you make your way over. Reigen gets up to let you back in to your side of the booth. You can feel his eyes on you as you cast your sight down and to the side, ignoring the tightness in your chest at knowing his stare doesn't hold the harshness you deserve.
Thankfully, the food arrives as soon as you settle back in, distracting you and everyone else with it's bare minimum quality. You imagine it beats whatever they're serving in jail though, and you graciously eat up the overcooked eggs paired with undercooked hash browns. Though mid-chew, you see Reigen's hand come creeping over from the side and onto your plate to pilfer a piece of your bacon. Quickly, you snatch his wrist in your hand and whip your neck to glare at him.
"I swear, if you know what's good for-" You cut yourself off, finding yourself nearly snarling at him and everyone at the table staring at you in anticipation. It's the first time you're able to look him in the eye since you got out. He's looking at you with the same old beady black eyes, amused at your reaction. Something about it makes your face go hot and your heart feel like it's going to tear in two. Not wanting to cause another scene, you huff out your nose in defeat.
"Whatever, take it. They slice it too thin anyway," you grumble and let him go. This is probably the last time you'll be sitting with him like this, the least you can do is let him have some shitty break-up bacon. You can sense his eyes still on you when you go back to your eggs that had gone cold all too quick. He grunts and eats the bacon, though with less enthusiasm than he usually has for food.
The rest of the meal is fairly quiet save for your friend's boyfriend trying to break the mood by messing with her food and making awful puns. They really are cute, you think. As much as you try to suppress it, it makes you envious. You wonder if there was ever a time when you so carefree and relaxed in your feelings for Reigen. It hurts your head too much to think about.
You pay the bill as a small gesture of thanks to the other couple, though you insist you owe them quite a few more treats to some place a little more upscale. Perhaps a giftcard to a steakhouse since this is the first and last double date you'll be on for a while.
The back middle seat keeps you separated from Reigen during the ride to drop you off. You thought he'd feel meters and meters away, but he feels exactly 18 inches from your side, awkwardly distanced yet not far enough. The drive is mostly wordless, everyone in the vehicle quite tired from the wedge in their regular schedules, though Reigen gives directions to drop him off at his office. It's mere minutes away, just a few turns and one red light, and all too soon the car is stopped outside the familiar building.
He gets out, and you hesitate, unsure if you should get out too.
"What are you doing? Go!" The two in the front both encourage you as they squish together to look at you through the rearview mirror.
"I-" You stop whatever excuse you had and sigh as you unbuckle. "Fine. Going."
Before you close car door behind you, you poke your head back in and look at your friend. "If you ever get arrested for punching him," you gesture at the man in the passenger seat, "I won't bail you out because I'll also be in jail for punching him."
"Love you too," she says as her boyfriend gives you a wary smile. "Now go! I want to go back to sleep!"
Your heart thumps when you close the door for good and watch as they drive off. Reigen waits for you at the door to his office, leaning against the wall and lighting up a cigarette between his lips.
"I thought you were quitting," you say, finding the words easier than you thought you would.
"I think I deserve one," he retorts after exhaling the first drag. You hate it, mostly because you hate how good he looks doing it.
You sigh for the hundredth time this morning, closing your eyes and wringing your hands a bit as you prepare to say what you need to.
"I'm sorry."
"I forgive you."
His response is so fast that it feels anticlimactic. You had been dreading a painful, drawn out silence, but instead he just gives his forgiveness like it's nothing. But it's not nothing. Your heart squeezes, and finally the wear and exhaustion of this whole fiasco comes crashing down on you.
"I- I don't want to break up," you choke out in a wobbly voice, with big fat stinging tears welling up in your eyes that don't even need you to blink to spill over.
He drops the cigarette and pushes himself off the wall, rushing to grab you by the shoulders.
"Who said anything about breaking up?!" He asks, sounding a little frantic.
Your shoulders shake as you fight to hold back the sobs, eyes and teeth clenched in a futile attempt to keep you from completely coming apart.
"I hurt you! I-It's not right. I don't- I don't deserve you. You don't d-deserve that," you snivel, barely registering his hands on you. You can't bear to look at him, and hang your head low so the tears can hopefully fall on the ground instead of down your cheeks.
"We can talk about it at least. Besides, you have a ways to go before you can throw an effective Anti-Esper Punchā¢," he says, and you can't tell if he's teasing or being serious.
"Did you just say the tradem- Nevermind. This doesn't make sense. Nothing is making sense," you lament, taking a step forward and knocking your forehead on his shoulder. "I just wanna go to sleep and pretend nothing happened. But we can't do that. And I don't think I can trust you to be serious with me, and I can't trust myself not to be frustrated with you."
You don't expect him to move his arms around you and pull you into him. You're not the type of couple for such affection, especially here on the open sidewalk where people can see that there's obviously some kind of scene going on. But you're exhausted and you slump against him, squeezing your arms around his middle right back and let your tears soak his white button down that's far more wrinkly than usual. Part of you fears that this will be your last time holding him so close.
However, he speaks and brings you to a place that feels like home.
"I am serious with you. Why else would I get myself arrested?"
You finally look up at him, whipping your chin upwards so you can get a good scan of his face. Despite your eyes swelling, they open wide when you see nothing but earnest in his expression.
"Y-You mean-? On purpose?!" You stutter.
"Well, yeah. Getting arrested sucks. I wasn't gonna make you go through that by yourself," he says simply.
Your heart squeezes. More tears fall from your eyes as you wrap yourself all too tightly around him, crying into his neck, "Stupid! Idiot! I- I can't stand you! Absolute scum of the earth! Why would you- For stupid dumbass me!? You're so-!"
"You're welcome." You feel him laugh at you, one hand brushing at your back affectionately.
At this point, you don't even know if you can say what you really mean without drawing concern. Your throat constricts, but you still manage to croak out a strained, "Thank you."
His other hand comes to rest atop your head, smoothing over your hair. Maybe one day you'll be able to be more open with your feelings, but for now, you say what you can by refusing to let go of him.
"Let's go inside. I'll keep business closed today. Though, if there is a spiritual emergency, I might have to address it," he tells you and pats you on the head.
Slowly, you loosen your hold on him and sigh through your stuffy nose the best you can.
"Still on about spirits even after-?"
You shift your head from his neck, pulling back and opening your eyes. You're so worn that you must be half asleep already. Or maybe you're starting to hallucinate from the lack of sleep. You give your eyes a testing squeeze before popping them back open and blinking a few times to clarify your visions, but-
"Reigen," you say slowly, "there's some ugly green thing hanging around by your head."
"Oh, so now you can actually see me and you call me ugly?!"
Yeah, you're definitely losing it. Or you owe Reigen another apology.
can you do yandere risotto with the prompt, āYouāve gotten good at this, so itās time to try something new. ā or ā Iāll never let you leave me.ā thank you!!
Hiya anon! I hope you enjoy this prompt, I initially planned it to be shorter, but alas, I got carried away. As the title suggests, this writing is inspired by Dracula by Bram Stoker, thus it takes place in the late 19th century. I also was inspired by the myth surrounding Elizabeth of Bathory (you know that one where they said she bathed in human blood to keep herself youthful)! Now, enough rambling, please enjoy!!
āBlood bathā Yan! Risotto x female reader (Dracula AU)
9. I will never let you leave me
Summary: Your parents arrange a marriage between you and the strange, rich Count in order to overcome their financial burdens. What secret does the Count hold?Ā
!!!!! TW: toxic relationship, death of minor characters, blood, power imbalance, arranged marriage, images of predator and prey, Risotto is naked at some point, noncon touching, threats, religious (Catholic/Christian) terms are used, mentions of wanting to be dead, Ā MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY !!!!!
I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.
Word count: 3459
You were aware that your family was stuck in a financially precarious situation. Nonetheless, you would had never expected them to arrange a marriage between you and the mysterious rich Count who hardly showed his face to anyone. Living secluded in his rather big and dark mansion on the outskirts of the town, you only knew about him through rumours circulating at the market. āIāve heard the farmer girls that have vanished were last seen entering his houseā, you had once noticed the bakerās wife had gossiped to the fisherās betrothed, āHe must have a liking for young women. Though only God knows what heās doing to these poor souls!ā The latter had leaned in further, practically whispering ominously, but you still had managed to hear the conversation. āApparently, thatās what came to my ears, he tortures them until they die. Some bystanders have reported screams and blood coming from the mansion.ā Back then, you hadnāt given much thought to these kind of rumours. After all, it was a small city and people needed to talk about anyone and anything in order to not face their own miserable existence. You had assumed the Count ā who bore the strange name of Risotto Nero ā was simply an elderly, grumpy man that liked to remain in his solitary company, peaceful and unbothered.
That was why it hit you double hard when you first saw Risotto. Not only was he young, but also ravishingly beautiful. The white hair that was combed back complemented the harsh features of his stern face. Eery red irises surrounded by black sclera travelled down your smaller form, intimidating you thoroughly. His tall body was dressed up in a black, neatly tailored suit, accentuating his muscles. You averted your gaze from him, gulping visibly. Why could he possible have chosen you as his bride? You were a common woman who lived her life following her duties of taking care of the antiques shop your father owned. You couldnāt offer him anything of interest. And yet, here you were, standing in the entrance hall of his mansion. When youād interrogated your parents about the marriage arrangement, they had seemed to be too frightened to give you any valuable information. āOh, you see Y/Nā, your mother had nervously stammered, āCount Nero gave us his word to help us out of our financial obstacles if he could have your hand in marriage.ā āBut why me?ā You had kept going on, profoundly confused. āMy dear daughterā, your mother had sighed, exasperated by your nosey behaviour, ādonāt look a gift horse in the mouth. A match with a Count is certainly the best opportunity youāll ever get.ā Bashfully, you had trained your eyes on the floor. āYes mother, youāre right.ā You had replied meekly. āI was just curious, since the Count doesnāt usually go out and Iāve never seen him before. Plus, I have no noble title or beneficial properties, so I donāt know why I could be potentially useful to him.ā At your reaction, your mother had shot you a sympathetic look. āI cannot reveal you much Y/N, but be aware of him.ā She had suddenly said, her voice taking a very serious note. āThe Count has a lot of influence and power.ā Your mother had taken a little break to gather her thoughts before continuing her speech, āThough these arenāt the only things you need to be cautious of. I donāt know anything specific, but when I saw him, I felt this shiver going down my spine. Something about him isnāt natural.ā
Now that you were seeing the Count for the first time yourself, you could understand your motherās sentiment. He may be the most entrancing person youād ever met, but at the same time, Risotto radiated danger and darkness. His home reflected perfectly the broody and enigmatic atmosphere surrounding its owner: heavy, dark-wooded furniture adorned the place, the tapestry on the walls showed intricate black patterns, a big chandelier dangled of the ceiling, demonstrating his wealth. What peaked your interest the most was the fact that all the windows were covered with thick, dark curtains, letting no sunrays shine through them. The only light source illuminating currently the place was dozens and dozens of candles and some oil lamps. āThatās peculiarā, you mused. Ā You stood in awe as you took in the whole estate. Risotto curtly cleared his throat, snapping you out of your pondering. You curtsied politely to the Count, introducing yourself. Next to his elegant demeanour, you felt like a fish out of water. āPlease, follow me Miss Y/Nā, Risotto simply replied, not bothering to properly introduce himself back. āHow rudeā, you thought sourly. Though not daring to voice that thought, you just trailed behind the taller man. From behind, you could observe how effortlessly and graciously the Count even walked. āWhy would he bother to be with me? He could have any woman he desired.ā āFrom today on, this will be your homeā, Risotto broke the silence once youād reached what you assumed was the sitting room and were settled on a couch, āIāve already discussed the important matters with your parents. Youāre allowed to see them as long as youāre letting me know beforehand and arrive back here at the time I give you. You may also roam freely around the mansion. I offer you a separate room until our marriage, but if you wish, I can already share mine with you.ā You immediately felt your face heating up at his inappropriate suggestion and muttered a quiet āNo, thank youā. Risottoās expression remained stoic and unimpressed as he observed you with growing interest. āOh, I forgot to mention previously: under no circumstances youāre allowed to pull back any curtain from the windows as long as the sun shines. The same goes with leaving your bedroom at night. No matter if youāre hearing strange noises in the hall, you cannot leave your chambers until morningā, Risotto added to his speech. āWhat if I should break one of these rules?ā, you asked, genuinely curious. āLetās say the consequences wonāt be in your best interest.ā, the Count answered all while keeping a straight face. Your heart started pounding furiously in your chest at his words. Again, you were reminded of your motherās warning. The white-haired male continued staring at you intensely, his head slightly tilted as if he was listening to your heartbeat from the distance between you. Nevertheless, he remained silent. Sweat began accumulating in the back of your neck, the oppressive and haunting atmosphere of this place and its owner taking slowly a toll on you. How were you supposed to spend a lifetime with this man? Upon noticing your ragged breathing, Risotto eventually reacted by standing up and offering you his arm. āPlease, let me guide you through the rest of my estate. Iāll lead you to your chambers as well, I think it might be best for you to have some privacy.ā Hesitantly, you nodded and shakingly placed your arm on his. The touch of his skin on yours felt oddly cold, even through your clothing. āDo not worryā, the Count murmured almost inaudibly, āas long as you behave, no harm shall fall upon you.ā A shudder of terror travelled down your whole body. Even though the words were meant to comfort you, they only ended up intensifying the fear inside of you.
So the days blended into each other like spilt ink on a love letter. At this point, you felt incredibly bored and lonely, wondering why Risotto wanted to have a wife if he wasnāt even around to enjoy your presence. A sigh escaped your lips as you stared at your reflection in the mirror of your vanity table while making yourself ready for bed. During your stay at the mansion, you hadnāt Ā encountered yet these strange noises the Count referred to on your first day in his home. āMaybe he just invented this to scare meā, you pondered out loud. You wondered if you were right, but there was no way of telling, since he wouldnāt answer your questions anyway. Or maybe you had been always too tired to notice any noise (you must admit, these expensive Egyptian silk sheets made you sleep like a rock). With these thoughts, you climbed into your bed and closed your eyes, drifting into a slumber without realising you would soon find out the answer to your questions.
You awoke in the dead of the night, sweat drenching your nightgown, making it cling uncomfortably on your body. Desperately, you tried to flatten your agitated breath. āWhat a nightmareā, you uttered, still shaken. āI could have sworn Iāve really heard the cries of this woman.ā You lit up the oil lamp on your bedside table to take a look on the clock in your room. Three oāclock. Even though exhaustion overtook your senses, you werenāt able to return to sleep after that horrendous dream. Slowly, you climbed out of the bed, making your way to the roomās window. You pulled back the heavy curtain and opened it. Gladly, you inhaled the cool night air and basked in the pale moonlight. This action seemed to ease your nerves as your breath calmed down a bit. Right when you decided to go to bed again, a blood-curdling scream pierced through the silence inside the mansion. Immediately, goosebumps formed on your skin, fear manifesting itself in your body again. There was no doubt this was the same voice as of the woman in your nightmare! āSo I didnāt make this up.ā, you mumbled, frightened. What was going on? Before you even properly registered, your hand found its way to the handle of your roomās door, ready to push it down and exit your chambers. Hastily, you refrained your body from doing so, remembering Risottoās words. What kind of punishment could you face if you broke the rule? Would he scream at you? Beat you? Murder you? The horrible rumours of the women at the market resurfaced in your mind. No, you certainly didnāt want anything similar happening to you. But on the other hand, could you let another innocent woman die at his hands? Could you really continue living your life, knowing you didnāt even attempt to help her somehow? Feelings of guilt were already nibbling on your conscience, forcing you to bite nervously on your lower lip and to fidget with your fingers. No, you knew the answer was negative. Inhaling deeply, you mustered all your courage and pushed down the handle. With a little creak, the door went open. The hall was empty and dark. Grabbing the oil lamp from your bedside table, you tentatively entered the hallway.
For what felt like an eternity to you, you wandered through the huge house, hoping to find the source of the shouts. āMaybe it was just one of the maids that had hurt herselfā, you tried to rationalise the whole situation. Though deep inside, you already knew this was but a lie to comfort yourself. Already wanting to give up, you were about to return to your chambers as another scream disrupted the quiet night. But this time, you had no doubts that this was the voice of another woman, thus nullifying your previous theory about the servant. With a racing heart and bated breath, you headed unsurely to the direction where the sound came from. Thanks to your good orientation skills, you quickly found the infamous room. The door was left ajar, warm candlelight emitting from the gap. You heard a soft ripple and the loud thump of a body hitting the floor. āWas this a bathroom? Did someone fall out the bathtub?ā, you thought, worry flowing through your system. Hastily, you made your way to the door, finally entering the room. Though you were taking in consideration the possibility of a crime, you would have never expected to encounter a horrendous murder scene. Trembling like a leaf caught in a storm, you let the oil lamp fall out of your grasp, landing in a puddle of blood. Your quivering hand found its way to your mouth, covering your terrified expression, though your widened eyes still revealed the horror the sight in front of you sparked inside of you.
Yan Childe, Diluc, Kaeya & Zhongli / Darling Playing a Prank.
Warnings:Ā Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, dark (?) ish humor ??
Disclaimer: all the dumb shit darling says here is Not A Good April Foolās joke to make. prank responsibly. darling just gets a free pass bc theyāre stuck in an awful situation š
Childe:Ā
āHave you ever thought about getting divorced?āĀ
Your question breaks Childe from his previously content stupor of rubbing circles on your back. All things considered, it was a peaceful night, but youād been hit with a mischievous itch recently. There wasnāt much you had left to live for other than making Childe as miserable as he makes you.Ā
His face is a mere few inches from yours, a dangerous grin breaking out.Ā āI canāt say I have, no.āĀ
You readjust yourself on the bed and avert your gaze.Ā
āI just donāt think weāre that good for each other,ā you confess, ignoring the slight crackling in the air.Ā āWhat with how youāre a murderer and stuff. Iād say itās not you, itās me, but Iām ninety percent sure itās you.āĀ
Chide lets out a breathless laugh.Ā āI may know what today is, sweetie, but donāt push it.āĀ
He made a point to use the pet name you found the most degrading. Well, at least he was kind enough to warn you before you could further dig your own grave, not that youāre happy about it. It wouldāve been nice to get under his skin for once, rather than the other way around.
āI didnāt even get to the part I was looking forward to most,ā you grumble, turning on your side so that you no longer have to face him. Staring at the wall is way more preferable than that. Unfortunately, this gives him the perfect opportunity to slither his arms around your frame, pulling you closer to his chest. Much closer than and much tighter than necessary.
āMaybe next year. You have an open schedule every day, keep giving it some thought.ā
You crinkle your nose at the not-so-subtle mockery. āI hope you get stabbed tomorrow and bleed out.āĀ
āDonāt hope, give a crack at it yourself. Iāll even give you a five-second head start!āĀ
Diluc:Ā
Your frantic screams of Dilucās name had him bolting from his office at an unprecedented speed. Any exhaustion that was weighing him down is replaced with dread, his heavy footsteps echoing throughout the hallways while he runs to your master bedroom.Ā
Was it an intruder? The Fatui? Did you injure yourself? Are you okay? Are you dying?Ā
Claymore in his hand, he busts down your door, not even bothering to take the time to fiddle with the locks. His eyes dart around like a madman, immediately fixating on you. Youāre currently standing on the bed without any visible injuries. He next looks to the window, his Vision pulsating to life, ready to scorch whoever posed a threat to his beloved.Ā
Still nothing. The window is intact as is the rest of the room.Ā
Diluc stands there, completely and utterly dumbfounded, his eyebrows creasing together in confusion. He snaps his head to where you are, finding that youāre currently trying to stifle your laughter.Ā
āItās just a spider,ā you wheeze out, pointing to a spot on the wooden floor. There is indeed a little spider scuttling about, likely just as frazzled as Diluc from the loud noise, going around in circles.Ā
āAā¦ a spider?ā Diluc repeats, his words breathless. The stress he had just undergone was likely enough to make his hair turn gray, and youāre over there giggling like it was the funniest thing youād ever seen.Ā
He lets his claymore vanish from his grasp.Ā
āYouāre not getting dinner tonight,ā he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.Ā āI will have a maid bring parchment and ink later for you to write a detailed apology. I expect it to be complete and on my desk within the hour.āĀ
Diluc turns around on his heel, leaving you with the spider that spurred everything to begin with.Ā
Then he wonders if it might be poisonous.Ā
You wordlessly watch as he comes back, steps on it, and leaves with an overly dramatic huff.
Kaeya:Ā
āKaeya, I want a baby.āĀ
Kaeya stares at you. You stare at Kaeya. The paper in his hand is put down and smoothed out over his desk, which he then rests his elbows on. He closes his eye in deep thought, your sudden proclamation must have taken him off guard; just as you had hoped.Ā
āWell, isnāt that a little direct,ā he chuckles, something dark flashing over his face. Uh oh.Ā āYou tried biting my tongue off yesterday, sweetheart. Whatās with the sudden change of heart, hm? Is your loneliness starting to get to you?āĀ
Why couldnāt he be a normal man who would give you a surprised reaction. It wouldāve been infinitely more fun that way, but here he is, acting like heās none the wiser to your little charade. What a killjoy.Ā
Still, youāre not one to give up so easily.Ā āI guess I was hit with baby fever or something.āĀ
āWhat an unexpected development.ā Kaeyaās smile makes you shiver. If you were being honest with yourself, you shouldāve expected as much from a person like Kaeya.Ā
āWell, if thatās what my dearly beloved wants, then who am I to say no? Iāll pick one up while Iām out tomorrow.āĀ
And with that, he picks his letter back up, leaving you to slowly process the implications of his words. Realization hits you not but a second later, panic coming along with it. Why couldnāt he stop being an asshole and let you have fun for just a few minutes? Would it really hurt him so bad to give you that much?Ā
āUh, on second thought, maybe notāā
He tuts.Ā āDonāt worry your pretty little head over it. Iāll handle everything, Iām sure I can find one somewhere.āĀ
āI hate you so much,ā you groan into your hands.
āIf you say so.āĀ
Zhongli:Ā
āZhongli, thereās something thatās been on my mind lately.āĀ
The aforementioned man nods, signaling that you have his full attention, and brings a fine porcelain teacup to his lips.Ā
You take a deep breath, feigning a troubled expression.Ā āSo, it was really nice of you to give me this Geo Vision and all, butā¦ I recently decided to take a new path in life.āĀ
āAnd what path would that be?ā he inquires, raising an eyebrow.Ā
āIāve recently found myself enamored with Mondstadt and its culture. Itās unlike any of the other seven nations, fully unique and special,ā you begin your spiel, noting how his eye twitches. When he stays silent, you continue, āWhile pondering this, I came to an important conclusion.āĀ
āI want to dedicate myself wholly to Lord Barbatos.āĀ
Zhongli chokes on his tea. Youāve never seen him lose face, not until this exact moment, having spent millenniums under his thumb. He does regain himself with relative ease, but not without directing a stare at you that warns of oncoming danger.Ā
Itās not the brightest idea, yet youāre nothing if not dedicated to this farce, so you continue pouring excessive salt on the wound.Ā āI know youāre acquainted with the Anemo Archon. Would you put in a good word for me? Ah, Iād just love to have an Anemo Vision.āĀ
You clasp your hands together and sigh dreamingly.Ā
āRocks areā¦ fine, I suppose, but commanding the winds at your fingertips? What might, what awe-inspiring force! I can hardly fathom what itās like to serve such a commendable God.āĀ
Huh. Zhongliās heading for the door. Hold on. Is that the Vortex Vanquisher in his handsā¦?Ā
āWait, Zhongli, I was just kidding, donāt start another Archon warāā
Hello!! I love the aesthetic of your blog š³ is it alright if I ask for headcanons of La Squadra (If itās too much, Risotto, Prosciutto and Ghiaccio are fine!!) with a really head strong and stubborn S/o? Like on the outside they act like they think theyāre better than everyone, but really theyāre just a huge dork on the inside āŗļø
thank you very much!! and itās not too much at all :) iām not sure whether or not you wanted an s/o who was involved in the gang or not, so i did a mix of both! i hope that you like it!
Risotto, Prosciutto, and Ghiaccio With a Stubborn and Headstrong, but Dorky S/O
Risotto ā his somehow turned into more of a drabble than actual headcanons, woops! hope you donāt mind that it also became a little more hurt/comfort!!
Due to his position as the leader of the group, heās used to having to work with strong personalities as each of his subordinates stand out in their own ways, and heās appreciative of all of their strengths ā yours being no exception. He also makes it a priority to become familiar with his squad memberās weaknesses so that he is better able to assign them missions and implement training regimens to improve their skills.
As his partner, he has an extra watchful eye over you and is quick to point out mistakes and areas for improvement, but donāt misunderstand his blunt remarks as ones of distaste. He owes a debt of gratitude to your confidence and your tenacity as it has come to his aid on multiple occasions, but heās an extremely perceptive man and can pick up on little things about you that would usually go unnoticed by others. Heās a quiet, introverted man, and by nature a good listener. He picks up on little tells and mannerisms of yours and eventually pieces a few things together.
Itās after a particularly rough mission that he is able to prove his little hypothesis. Youād barely escaped with your life after the confrontation with your target went sour due to you pulling a risky move that was almost certain to end in failure; it was a complete deviation from the plan that Risotto had gone over with you. He was upset, and you were, too, as the target had gotten away, but instead of reacting in anger and immediately enacting some sort of punishment, he looked over at you from across his desk where you sat with a pout and glassy eyes, eking out an uncharacteristic apology instead of a snide remark or even an eyeroll.
Heāll still have to reprimand you for screwing up the job, but for now he was pleased to see a more vulnerable, honest side to you. āYou understand that what you did was wrong, donāt you cara/o?ā He looks over at you, torn between comforting you and scolding you.
Risotto is so glad to see you becoming more open and comfortable around him, but he doesnāt say much as he doesnāt want to scare you off. Instead, that evening, after youāve been informed of the oncoming dread that is the punishment of both paperwork duty and a boring stakeout mission, he holds you a little bit closer and tells you that he loves you, which is his way of telling you that itās okay to not be strong sometimes.
He knows that tomorrow you will bounce back to your usual self, dorky jokes and all, but for now, heās more than content to share this private moment with you and fall asleep with your head resting on his chest, lulling you both to sleep with his hand lazily rubbing your back.
Prosciutto
Dating a man in the mafia would be taxing on anyone, but if anyone could deal with, Prosciutto thought, it would be you ā his strong, cocky, dorky partner
His views are a little more traditional, and I can see him as someone who really likes the idea of caring for others and being a provider ā and heās more than happy and willing to provide that ā but at the end of the day, thereās nothing better than coming home to someone like you who isnāt afraid to challenge him and will speak their mind. He already has to pretty much babysit Pesci half the time heās at work, and the other men can act immature and really get on his nerves, so itās just nice to have someone he doesnāt have to put on airs around, and he finds your sassiness sexy
He worries about you, of course, but heās well aware that you are someone who can and will put up a fight and not let yourself be taken down without resistance. Also, he is a little more inclined to share certain aspects of his job with you, as he believes that you have the emotional capacity to handle some of the more grim details ā even though he still leaves the majority of it out for your sake. He likes that he doesnāt have to sugarcoat things with you, and itās good for him to have someone to talk to
Because of your stubbornness, it may be more difficult for you to apologize, but he wonāt hesitate to call you out and tell you that youāre in the wrong, and heās very calm and level-headed about doing so. When heās in the wrong however, he usually comes around and apologizes rather quickly, but he can be kind of petty about it. He does make it up to you though, always. One of the benefits of him being a little old-fashioned is that heās very keen on the idea of not going to bed angry
The more caring, nurturing side of him finds your dorkiness endearing, and whether or not its a television series or movie that youāre geeking out over, or even just a goofy joke, heās happy to indulge you and listen to what you have to say. Heās not always the most up-to-date on pop culture references or media, so he doesnāt always get what youāre talking about, but he loves you so it doesnāt really matter to him what youāre going on about (you could ramble about the history of something as inane as can openers and heād still say āthatās interesting, Amoreā) Heās a sucker for all things domestic, really
Ghiaccio
Now this relationship may be a little more turbulent then the others, as I can see the two of you being very loud, but itās very sweet in its own way
Heās a huge hothead, and with your stubborn demeanor the two of you will most definitely butt heads, but his outbursts are something that youāve come to expect and theyāre never filled with any real malice ā itās just the way that he is. The rest of the gang like to tease you both about being an old married couple, and you think itās cute, playfully tugging on his cheek while heās fuming and Formaggio and Illuso are cracking up in the corner
Ghiaccio will be the type of boyfriend to feed into your ego and because youāre his s/o, everything has to be perfect for you, for you deserve nothing less in his eyes. He can and will chew out the waiter if you so much as comment on your food being dry or too salty or just not up to par
As far as your dorkiness is concerned, Ghiaccio may not always understandĀ āwhat youāre going on about this timeā, but heāll still listen and try to indulge you with some commentary here and there, which will most likely come across to an unknown spectator as pure sass and displeasure, but you know better; the snark comes with the territory of dating the ice man -- and you love it
If he ever catches wind of someone making fun of you or even just making an offhand comment about you or something that you like to geek out over, then he has no qualms about going off on them
So first of all Iām obsessed with like pretty much all of these tracks and it was really hard to figure out like what I wanted to write first because I had thoughts for all of them. So unbelievable archives I canāt believe you have this just like laying around thatās ridiculous. These are unbelievable4. But anyway the first one that I was working something up for was uhhh the maple one. And I came up with this thing and its probably gonna obviously be sequencing differences like different lengths of different verses and whatever but, this is just like a rough uh thing.
(Maple music track begins playing. Taylor beings singing the original lyrics of cardigan.)
Vintage tee, brand new phone
High heels on cobblestones
When you are young they assume you know nothing
Sequin Smile black lipstick
Sensual Politics
When you are young they assume you know nothing
But I knew you
Dancing in your Leviās, Drunk under a street light,
I
I knew you
Hand under my sweatshirt
Baby kiss it better
I
And when I felt like I was an old cardigan
under someoneās bed
You put me on and said I was your favorite.
A friend to all is a friend to none.
Chase two girls, lose the one.
When you are young they assume you know nothing.
But I knew you
Livinā in a gold age, sneak into my bird cage
I
I knew you
laughinā like a damn fool
breaking every damn rule
I
And when I felt like I was an old cardigan
under someoneās bed
You put me on and said I was your favorite.
(Taylor stops singing and begins to speak. Music continues playing) And then, I have like this, thereās a break because I donāt really know what gonna happen here but I do have like aā I think its here? Where I was putting a bridge thing.
(Taylor begins to sing again)
And to kiss in cars and downtown bars is all we needed
You drew stars
around my scars
but now Iām bleedinā. Iām bleeding.
(Taylor speaking) Weāll work on that and not make it bad and then ummmm thereās all this time but when the like kind of major chorus comes back in, I wait til then. And then is start singing again. I donāt think its right now butā Here it is. The ending
(taylor singing)
I knew you
steppinā on the last train
Marked me like a blood stain
I
I knew you
tried to change the ending
Peter leaving Wendy
I
I knew you
Dancinā in your Leviās, drunk under a street light.
I
I knew you
But when you are young they assume you know nothing.
But I knew youād linger like a stolen kiss
I knew youād haunt all of my what ifs
The smell of smoke would hang around this long
Cause I knew everything when I was young.
I knew Iād curse you for the longest time.
I knew Iād wish you would have changed your mind.
I knew youād miss me once the moment died.
I knew to love would be to lose my mind
(Taylor speaking) And thenā¦ I donāt know. You let me know what you think. (Music stops) And uh, thatās kinda just like a rough idea of something. Let me know if you like it!
If itās alright, may I ask for HCās on how La Squadra would react if their s/o sprained their ankle (or just got lightly injured) during a mission? š³šš sorry if thatās oddly specific!!
Hi Absolutely! getting hurt is just part of the job description but these fellas just cant help but worry, they don't want to lose you.
La Squadra x Minorly Injured Reader (GN)
Risotto
Big boy,
heās overprotective I think...
so it is a miracle if he even let it happen. But if it did he wouldn't freak out you are a capable assassin in his eyes
so you sprain your ankle after doing a risky attack but one that got the job done
if you can manage till after the mission heāll carry you to the car aww
Once back to safety he will coddle you like a first-time mother whose toddler just tripped.Ā
except he's 6ā²7-8 with an RBF and probably the most intimidating man in all Napoli
he will let you rest your ankle on his lap while you ice it, hell calmly and lightly scold you with some endearing words
he worries about youĀ Ā
Prosciutto
Will yell at you after you got lightly cut on the leg
The mission is done efficientlyĀ
as soon as you two are in a safe position he will be eerily quiet, he's not snappy at you now reprimanding you.
he quietly just helps you clean up and wrap your leg
you quietly say his name which prompts a long and labored sigh from him...
āI don't know how I would handle a situation where you're badly wounded Amore.āĀ
he was internally freaking out when he saw you get hit, he worries so much about you it's bad for his health
just holds you for a while afterward
Pesci
Pure unbridled panic
you dodge an attack a little poorly and roll your ankle
surprisingly Pesci freezes, but after he knows your okay, he gets furious at the enemy prompting him to take them down quickly and with a confidence that's not often there.
Prosciutto would've had a heart attack if he saw how quick Pesci ended a life.
he's right back to panic and rushing over to you asking you if you're okay about a million times
will give you a piggyback
once you guys are back at the hideout he's probably crying and apologizing to you, he will ice your ankle for you.
give him some kisses and heāll feel better
Formaggio
āFUCKāĀ
is probably what you hear after you get slashed in the arm
Formaggio forgets everything except profanities when he sees you hurt
he's not mad at you he's worried and that's all that comes out.
ābabe, babe, are you okay? don't die. fuck, shit.ā
the mission is over and he's quick to give you a rough kiss, then help you fix up your arm
Probably won't leave you alone for a good while. he's nervous.
Doesn't want you to go out on missions till you're fully healed and he's loud about it.
Has his cat with you when he's not
GhiaccioĀ
you probably hurt your knee saving him in some way
he is NOT happy about it at all
after you finish the enemy he's racing towards you a million miles an hour. cussing up a storm
brace for impact, he doesn't topple on you but he's picking you up and skating to the car
āwhat the actual fuck were you thinking?āĀ āyou're welcome GhiaāĀ āUGHā
once at a safe location he's icing your knee he's quieted down and looks just really sad or worried soon enough he mumbles out a thank you.
after you feel better he just wants to lay in your arms for a while to calm down.
Melone
You get cut on the outer thigh
Once the enemy is down he's automatically by your side
he coos at youĀ ā aww sweety are you alright, I'm sorry I won't let this happen againā
tries to lick the cut
Ā once your at a safe place heāll help you patch yourself up explaining where all of the vital areas the cut missed and how you could have bled out in a matter of minutes
it's not a big comfort
is really open about how he swore he felt the life drain out of him when he saw you get hit.
Illuso
Probably pulled you out of harm's way resulting in you hurting your ankle a bit
doesn't notice right away
he will once he kills the enemy
āWhy are you limping a little?ā you try to explain in a way that won't hurt his ego and he just sighs
heāll help you ice it thoĀ
kisses you're jawline and just quietly says he's glad you aren't hurt any worse than this
doesn't coddle or worry as much as the others would but is still caringĀ
Sorbet and Gelato
Your side gets cut as Gelato finishes the enemy when he sees you hurt he makes the death muuuch more painful
Sorbet is picking you up immediately they get to a safe place or the hideout and gelato is helping you patch up as sorbet rubs your backĀ
āI should have made him suffer longerā Gelato probably says once he's done giving you a peck on the lipsĀ āyeah probablyā follows up Sorbet
they will sit with you for a while, they are much calmer about this but you know they care a lot for you.
Thinking about how James says āIām only 17, I donāt know anything,ā in Betty, while in Cardigan, Betty says āCause I knew everything when I was young.ā AND ITāS LIKE SHES MOCKING HIM FOR BEING A DUMBASS AND CHEATING, BECAUSE HEY, SHEāS ALSO 17 AND SHE DIDNāT PULL ANY OF THAT CRAP. I love it. Send tweet.
ā¦..not even six hours later i got an offer of a well paying full time long-term job with free room and board in queens in nyc, allowing me independence and a way to escape an abusive situation and an unhealthy environment
likes charge reblogs cast, folks, this is the good luck post
jacobvanloon
kianamaiart
izzy806
