I'm Renee AKA Smilex | 🇳🇱 | 21 yr Female| this my writers blog. i like to self-endulge and fantasize with my work. enjoy. works are available on Wattpad and Ao3
I am an x FemReader writer who writer both headcanons and short stories. Even some long mutliple chapter novels. The long novels are not on Tumblr due to the clumsy posting layouts. Theire on my Wattpad and Ao3.
Here are my Headcanons and short storries.
I stopped taking requests, it’s not fun for me anymore.
The Notify:
If a certain sensetive theme is present in the story, that will be notified in the top under the short summary. Labeled as an
‘Attention!:’
with the following theme. Along with the severity of the theme labeled as: Graphic, Non-Graphic or Mentioned. Example: Attention: Mentioned Violence.
Nathan Explosion X Fem | Reader
Summary: The paparazzi show up while (Y/n) and Dethklok hang out in public. (Y/n) gets upset from all the attention and cameras.
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"Maybe they have a local speciality?" (Y/n) wonders out loud, scratching her chin thoughtfully, while imagining what brutal coffee flavours they could have. (Y/n) and the band Dethklok Stroll down the street to check out a recent Duncan Hills coffee shop that has opened in this area.
"Don't get your hopes up (Y/n), most of the Duncan hills are all the fucking same." Pickles.
(Y/n) glares at Pickles and crosses her arms.
"Thanks, Pickles, you ruined my whole day." (Y/n) playfully complains and pushes the drummer's shoulder lightly. Pickles laughs in return. The group resumes their stroll from the Dethbus to the opening of a new Duncan Hills.
"how about blood-orange flavour?" (Y/n) wonders out loud. That catches Nathan's attention.
"That sounds brutal." He growls a remark. Cause (Y/n) to look at him and grin. It's one of those smiles that he didn't really mind this time.
~~~~
The group arrived at the opening of the new coffee shop, and Murderface came up with the incredible idea of cutting the ribbon with a chainsaw. Well, it did cut the ribbon but Murderface lost control of the machine and it flew into the crowd, killing two people...
"see? I fuckin' told ya so. Same shit at always." Pickles says in a smug tone. Murderface shakes his head after looking at the shop's menus. "dischappointing..." He hisses dramatically. "hyuuh..." Skwisgaar adds.
(Y/n) deflates in disappointment. She has truly hoped there would be something new that Duncan Hills could offer in a new shop, "Aww that's a shame." She huffs.
" if ya got any ideas for this, maybe tell Offdensen about them," Nathan says to (Y/n). This (Y/n) causes it to perk up a bit. They turn to Nathan with an even brighter smile than before.
"yeah! Maybe I should. I had a couple of merchandise ideas that could make millions!" (Y/n) smirks as she thinks about their million-dollar ideas.
Nathan raises an eyebrow at (Y/n) in curiosity.
"Yeah? Like what?" (Y/n) is about to speak up, but they got cut off by a person outside of the group.
"There they are!!" A loud voice from outside. "What was that?" Toki asks anyone who listens.
The group walks out of the shop. Where they are immediately greeted by a horde of paparazzi and fans. "Fucks..." Skwisgaar groans in annoyance. "They found us again..." Pickles sighs, rolling his eyes. (Y/n) freezes as the loud crowd gets closer.
"Who's that woman with them?" They can hear someone from the crowd. "Do they mean (Y/n)?" Nathan wonders, taking a glance at the person in question.
Cameras start flashing, blinding (Y/n) immediately, she raises her arms to block the light hopefully. She flinches at every camera click, mixed with the inability to see properly causes her to get quite nervous. This isn't really about social anxiety, anyone would feel quite overwhelmed when hundreds of cameras are being pointed in their face, wouldn't they?
(Y/n) should have known better to be honest. If the paparazzi made her so uncomfortable, most likely shouldn't have been hanging out with these worldwide stars.
The flashing lights start to make her dizzy. She completely shields her eyes by putting her face in her hands and moving closer to the person she stands next to: Nathan.
"(Y/n)?" He calls out her name but she doesn't respond. Nathan didn't like what the paparazzi were doing to his friend. His expression sinks into an even deeper scowl than before. He steps in front of (Y/n), shielding her from the camera flashes.
One person dares to get close. "Excuse me, may I ask for your name?" an interviewer tries to reach (Y/n). "Fuck off." Nathan threatens, pushing the man back hard, causing him to stumble back.
The paparazzi look shocked and even slightly offended. "Nothing wrong with asking for her name?" he shrugs and tries to get closer to (Y/n) again. Pickles steps in as well, looking as equally annoyed as Nathan does.
"ey, ya heard 'im. Fuck off." the drummer pushes the man back also.
Pickles and Nathan glance back at (Y/n), then turn back to each other. "We gotta get her outta here." Pickles suggests and Nathan agrees with a swift nod. Without saying anything, Nathan grabs (Y/n) by her waist with both hands and hoists her over his right shoulder, causing her to yelp in surprise and then he runs away in the direction of where the dethbus is parked. the rest of the band follows right after Nathan and (Y/n). Paparazzi following quite far behind.
The group finally reach the bus and once the cameramen are in view of the klokateers, they take their rifles and shoot a few people who dare to touch the bus, then the vehicle races off and leaves a thick cloud of diesel smog in its wake.
~~At Mordhaus~~
"Ams yous okay (Y/n)?" Toki places a hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder to console her. She remains seated, rubbing her temples to nurse a headache that was caused by the flashes of light from the cameras "What are you doings (Y/n)? This is nots a big deals." Skwisgaar scoffs, unable to see what the big deal is. Toki elbows the Swede in the stomach. Skwisgaar gasps then coughs in pain and holds his side where the rhythm guitarist hit him. "What's the fucks ams the matters with you." Toki sneers at Skwisgaar. The lead guitarist doesn't answer, mostly out of embarrassment and just rolls his eyes.
(Y/n) remains in her seat, silently as she regains her composure bit by bit. Skwisgaar looks at her and shakes his head slowly, while still strumming his guitar. "it's not that big ofs a deals (Y/n). Gets over yourselves." He says.
Nathan, who is sitting next to (Y/n) with his hand on her shoulder, scowls at the lead guitarist.
"(Y/n) is not used to Skwisgaar. So shut the fuck up." the singer threatens with a sharp tone. The guitarist is slightly taken aback for a moment but then huffs loudly.
"Whatevers." Skwisgaar mumbles and stands up from his seat to go to his room most likely.
"Asshole..." Nathan mutters to himself as he watches Skwisgaar leave the room in quite a hurry.
(Y/n) sighs deeply, catching Nathan's attention once again. "sorry I..." (Y/n) runs their hands through her hair.
"I'm not very fond of flashing lights and stuff..." She mumbles and continues to fidget with the strands of her hair.
The singer merely grunts in response. "still." Nathan begins. (Y/n) lifts her head from her hands, meeting the singer's forest green eyes. His gaze holds that usual sharpness, but there is something behind them that (Y/n) cannot place quite well.
"If you wanna continue to hang out with us. You gotta get used to some of these things. The world ain't no place for softies." Nathan says with honesty, and he is right. This world is harsh and will not bend backwards for anybody.
"Yeah... I know." (Y/n) sighs. "I'll work on it." She offers Nathan a determined smile. The singer smirks back.
"Good." He remarks, seemingly satisfied with (Y/n)'s answer.
~~~~
Nathan was indeed right, which still manages to surprise (Y/n) to this very day. Ever since (Y/n) had hung out with Dethklok in public, she got approached on the streets by people whenever she went out to run some errands or to go for a simple walk that turned into an interview every time. The attention is interesting to put it lightly, although some people were not as respectful as others.
(Y/n) indeed got some... Unfriendly messages on social media by hardcore fans. More often than not, it was fangirls being jealous. Which (Y/n) could be understood in some way. But to tell someone to die over it? Not that much...
Luckily, Offdensen knows how much (Y/n) means to the band as a friend, and is willing to give her protection if she requests it.
(Y/n) appreciates his thoughtfulness, but she is a stubborn one and believes that she'll be fine.
~~~~
"I don't understand why you guys wanna watch me do groceries." Dethklok had decided it would be fun to stalk (Y/n) while she went out to run her weekly errands and groceries. The band is closely following behind her as they look around the store...
"to get in touch with our roots. This is the uh, safest way." Nathan explains the rest of the band agrees with nods and grunts.
"Glad we don't have to do thisch schit ourschelvesch anymore, thisch isch scho lame," Murderface complains with an overdramatic sigh of boredom, causing (Y/n) to glare at him. This weekly chore is already normalized in her routine and she can't help but occasionally envy the band's wealth. "Well, it's necessary for me. I need my stuff to survive." (Y/n) argues back. taking a pack of toilet paper from the rack to put in her shopping cart.
"Cans we gets this, (Y/n)?" Toki returns to the group after being separated from them for a brief moment, holding up a bag of marshmallows that he found in the aisles of the store, doing his best puppy-dog eyes at (Y/n).
(Y/n) squints at him. "No! These are my fucking groceries. Put it back!" Toki pouts but does as he's told and walks away to put it back where he found it. "I thought yous didn't likes hanging out with us, (Y/n)?" Skwisgaar wonders out loud. "I didn't like the paparazzi, but I've gotten a little used to it by now, a bit more than before at least." (Y/n) shrugs, grabbing another article from another shelf.
"Aww..." That was all the guitarist had to say in response. Toki joined the group again once they reached the register so (Y/n) could pay for her groceries.
"I got it." Nathan steps beside (Y/n) and pays for all of her groceries. "Oh c'mon Nathan I work for a reason." (Y/n) defends once she receives the receipt. " Your income is nothing compared to mine,(Y/n)." Nathan responds and carries one of the grocery bags to help her out, (Y/n) carries two more bags. (Y/n) can't argue with his income, so just drops it. "Thanks." She replies and turns a little pink in her face. "Don't mention it," Nathan grunts in response. Pickles and Skwisgaar watch the two friends interact. Then they turn to each other and share a knowing look.
The group returns to the parking lot of the grocery store towards (Y/n)'s car. And Nathan helps them load the groceries in the car. "You're so nice today Nathan. Or is it just (Y/n) that gets special treatment." Pickles snickers, Skwisgaar and Toki follow with small chuckles, sounding like gossiping schoolgirls.
Nathan looks over his shoulder at his friend, the pink on his cheeks turning darker and the sharpening glare in his eyes that already says everything that his bandmates need to know.
Of course, (Y/n) heard that too. Not knowing how to react, she just decides to ignore the drummer's comment. She is not really in the mood to deal with that right now. "There." (Y/n) closes the trunk of the car that's now loaded up with her groceries.
"Well, it was fun with you guys but I gotta go home now." (Y/n) says while digging into her pocket for her keys.
"it'sch about time we go home too, I'm schoooo bored." Murderface suggests with a grumble, Toki nods in agreement. "Yeah, theres ams somes model I wants to finish." He adds.
"well then, I'll see you guys later." (Y/n) waves goodbye and enters her car. "see ya!" (Y/n) races off in an instant, nearly running over a small child and a mother.
"sooo, Nathan. Where are ya gonna ask her out or what?" Pickles teases Nathan and nudges him in his arms. Nathan glances at the drummer.
"I will kill you when we get home." Nathan threatens
"no you won't!" Pickles cackles.
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I got the update on this one as well. I thought my old writing didn't make much sense of missing context. Not to mention some grammatical fixes.
hi hi! I was wondering if maybe you could do Mick Thomson x Reader who’s in her own band and also plays guitar? If you can :]
I'm afraid to say that I do not take requests anymore.
Not to mention that I lost interest in writing Slipknot a year ago.
There is the creative freedom that I really missed when I did do requests, which is why I stopped.
I apologize, but you're going to have to ask someone else to write for you.
Kind regards
- Smilex
hey bb! may i request drunk! reader x drunk! pickles? a sprinkle of trauma bonding (mommy issues) and a sprinkle of fluff and understanding would mean the whole world to me :3
Hammered Slander
Pickles The Drummer X Fem Reader
Summary: (Y/n) and Pickles decide to go out together and just get drunk and complain about mothers, as you do.
Note: Hi Stranger! I never experienced mommy issues in any way, I’m not sure what having mommy issues feels like, to be honest, so the mother is just nagging basically... I think.
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It’s a regular event between (Y/n) and Pickles, from the very first day they met. It’s easy to make friends when drunk, and apparently, Pickles and (Y/n) got along so well that they woke up hangover together.
It’s ironic that (Y/n) can still remember it. It’s okay if Pickles doesn’t.
20-year-old (Y/n) woke up in Pickles’ motel room on the floor, he was awake but hallucinating in the bed. And… The rest is history.
~~~~
Years later, Dethklok is the most dominant band on the planet. Hanging out with her friends is rather difficult these days, and she cherishes every moment she can whenever. What’s even rarer is hanging out with her closest friend: Pickles. Just the two of them, she would have really liked to have spent time with him by now.
And while phoning Pickles as the band is on tour, (Y/n) finally decides to just ask him!
“Toki really can hold his liquor when he gets really drunk, it’s probably the saddest thing I’ve ever seen, yo.” Pickles cackles from the other side of the line, causing (Y/n) to laugh as she hears Toki complain in the background.
“Anyway enough about me, how are you doing?” There is a lot of commotion on the Drummer’s side, which is most likely the band in the background.
“I’m fine. It's kind of quiet with you guys not around. But I’ll manage.” Which is the truth. (Y/n) has been staying at Mordhaus to keep things a little in check for the band. The castle-like structure really is very quiet with them around.
“Kinda miss you guys…” She admits shyly.
“Aww… (Y/n). Hey Fellas! (Y/n) misses us!” She can hear Pickles announce to the room loudly. (Y/n) can’t hear the reactions very well, but she can hear Toki shout. “Ams misses yous too, (Y/n)!” in the distance. Toki’s antics never fail to make (Y/n) smile. “Hey, Pickles. We can go for a drink and catch up when you’re back. Just the two of us? Like old time.” (Y/n) feels slightly bashful while asking, much to her relief, the Drummer chuckles.
“Sure we can!” He replies with glee.
~~~~
Back from the tour and was well-rested once again. (Y/n) and Pickles have finally decided to go out together for drinks. Pickles had always found it interesting, how the atmosphere completely changes when it’s just him and (Y/n) together without his bandmates and friends. More surprisingly, this atmosphere has never changed in all the years he has been friends with her. And he likes it that way.
He could tell this was gonna be a drunk night, as he saw (Y/n) already downing her drinks quickly. Surely something must be on her mind. He doesn’t think about it much as he gets drunker as well, the two friends swaying on their barstool and partly leaning on each other to maintain some balance. Giggling the night away.
“Alright, alright, alright! Listen, listen, listen.” (Y/n) giggles and puts down her whiskey glass, already getting pretty hammered after her fourth glass, switching from plain beer to win to spice her drunkenness. Pickles responds with his own laughs, being unable to keep his head up straight and repeatedly as if his neck is giving into the weight of his head.
“I had another call from my mom recently, you know?” (Y/n) shakes the whiskey glass she is holding, hoping it will magically refill again.
Pickles snorts, “Yeah?” He gestures for her to resume.
“I haven’t spoken to her in years, since she ruined my brother’s wedding. She was literally asking if I had a boyfriend yet!” (Y/n) raises her voice, announcing to the whole bar her story.
It’s getting late so the bar is quite empty. Not to mention that the remaining people are doing their best to ignore the two very loud and very drunk people at the bar. The poor bartender is cursed to serve the other people there. He cut those two off an hour ago.
“Typically mum, always butting in my personal life! Because she doesn’t have one!” (Y/n) laughs loudly at her own witty remark. Pickles follows suit with her, the commotion in the nearly empty bar to get more obnoxious on their end. It causes a group of three people to leave money on their table and leave the building altogether.
The Bartender is trying to focus while going down his resupply list and partly keeping an eye on the drunk people who are half a meter away from him. Just to make sure they don’t break anything. Even if it’s the drummer of the greatest Metal band on earth slouching at his bar.
“I swear that woman can’t let go of us! Me and My brother and I.” (Y/n) slurs, tracing the rim of the glass with her finger, it doesn’t make that pretty sound that wine glasses usually make. “I remember when she blamed her divorce on us… That woman is crazy and Dad couldn’t take it anymore, I wish he had taken us with him.” her gaze turns solemn, despite it being years ago, it still hurts. Those hurtful words that her mother said to her in the heat of the moment, if only her mother had apologized for that, their relationship might have been better today.
“duuuude,” The drummer leans completely on (Y/n)’s arm, clutching a bottle of a famous whiskey brand in his hand. His legs are bouncing against the foot of the stool, a subconscious habit. “Be glad that your mom even acknowledges your existence!” Pickles argues, “I am the drummer of the very best baaand in the fucking wooorld yo!!! Not e-even thaaaat, Not even that impreeesses her!” He slurs and slams his hands flat on the bar, which causes the bartender to flinch at the noise. He about had it with these guests. If one more thing happens he is going to kick them out for the night so he can close the bar.
“It’s aaaalways about Sssseth. Fucking asshooole! He ruinzzzz everythinggg he touches!” Leaning forward he rubs his face in his hands, “Women…” He grumbles in his palms.
If (Y/n) was sober, she would have thought twice about what he just said. But right now she couldn’t agree more. “Fuckinnnnng bitch, just wants mmmmy money.” He complains quietly. (Y/n) already knew that Pickles’ family was practically leaching off him. She had noticed that already.
At first, she expected all of Dethklok's families to be begging for the band’s money.
Later she realized that the family dynamics of Dethklok is rather abnormal for the most part.
“Well? That Birth-giver o’ mine is a real piece of work. And you haven’t met her yet.” (Y/n) pipes in with more stories of her mother. “And I don’t want you… That when you meet her… That you don’t, okay?” She mumbles with a hint of confusion, almost like she doesn’t even know what she is talking about.
“I swear, me and my… I mean me and my brother and I. We were just accessories to her, seriously! Dad too, probably!” When she slams her glass on the table, causing one empty bottle to topple over, that’s when the bartender had it.
“Alright, you two need to leave my bar this instant!” The bartender had enough, slammed his notes on the counter and called the bouncer over to give him a hand.
~~~~
The bounce pushed (Y/n) and Pickles outside roughly. (Y/n) was able to keep her balance however, Pickles stumbled and tripped onto his knees.
“Just go home!” The bouncer waves the two drunk people off and goes back inside.
(Y/n) dusts off her knees and stands up, swaying in her stance and looking at the entrance of the bar, “How rude…” She grumbles and looks over to the Drummer and grabs him by the arm to get him to stand up. She wastes little time and goes to walk in the direction that she believes is the right direction.
“Wheeere arrre we going???" Pickles sounds more confused than ever, looking around the now dark streets quizzically. “We are, We’re going home I think?” (Y/n) giggles quietly.
Too drunk to even realize where she is taking Pickles to. The two friends will discover later the next day while nursing a hangover.
~~~~
Waking up with a pounding headache has become a regular thing lately. (Y/n) is having a hard time opening her eyes, and when she does she is greeted with the floor of some castle-like bedroom, the floor is covered in both rubbish and clothes. This scene makes (Y/n) feel nostalgic. Somewhere she has seen this before. Of course! How could she forget?
“Had a good sleep?” Comes the voice of Pickles. Looking up, (Y/n) finds the man in question sitting up in bed. It is nearly just like when she first met him, and she could not help but smile at him.
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I haven’t taken requests in years, I actually have quite a strict rule list when it comes to requests. But I’ll let this one slide.
Summary : (Y/n) goes to save Toki and Abigail by herself. And have a reunion with an old lover.
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"Bastards!" (Y/n) angrily slams her hands on the table as she watches the remaining band members party like there is nothing going on.
"they really think they can avoid what's going on? Just like that?!" (Y/n) sneers in frustration, turning away and leaving the room.
"I wanted to help find Toki and Abigail. But Offdensen won't let me..." She crosses her arms as she walks down the dark halls of Mordhaus and moves into her room. "It's too dangerous, he said." She Looks over at her desk filled with various clues she had taken from the systems to find their location. Along with the memories of the beginning that she can still remember so vividly. (Y/n)'s eyes shine as she has made a breakthrough in her research. Her gaze set upon the location she is sure to find her missing friends.
"Don't worry Toki, Abigail. I'm coming for you." Her fists, resting on the desk, clench in determination.
~~~~
With the research she has done, it was quite easy to find the location that (Y/n) suspected where her friends would be. You remember the place vaguely. This is where the band had their audition for a second guitarist, much to Swkisgaar’s dismay at the time, he scared away most of the people who tried the audition, except one: and that was Toki.
(Y/n) was there when it happened, and that’s when she met Toki for the first time, a hopeful and ambitious kid with noticeable musical talent, if he could keep with someone like Skwisgaar. (Y/n) was impressed as well and took a liking to him quickly, he is naturally likeable, always has been…
Thinking about Toki saddens her now, she misses him so badly. Her stupid friends think they can ignore the situation which angers her. Going after Toki and Abigail by herself is the best way to cease all the mixed emotions she is feeling. She is gonna get an earful from Charles when she gets back… And maybe from Nathan as well.
Upon arriving at the place, it wouldn’t be smart to face whoever took her friends head-on. (Y/n) can pick fights with other women in bars but this is not a bar sadly. She’ll take an entrance by the side to get in unnoticed. It wasn’t a good idea to come without a solid plan, in the desperation to get Toki back there wasn’t a plan at all. The best she can do is to sneak in, and get her friends out.
It’s the next best thing! (Y/n) is flexible enough to crawl through a broken window, heart racing, there is no way back now. Only forward, and that’s exactly what she is going to do. (Y/n) likes to imagine that she is in a stealth video game, it helps her calm her nerves a little bit. She didn’t come completely unarmed, she has a hunting knife that she bought while out with Nathan, it will surely be useful now…
For example, he knocks out a skinhead-looking fellow with the hilt of the weapon, and takes the keys that were dangling from his belt. She has a feeling that these keys will take her where she wants to go.
She tries the keys on the nearest door she finds. The metal door creaks and groans as it opens slowly, light from the hall seeping into the dark room, then the light hits two individuals that (Y/n) recognized instantly.
It’s Abigail and Toki, huddled together in each other’s arms, quivering and cowering. They look injured. The two squint in the light. "(Y/n)?" Abigail tries to look at the figure obscured by the shadow's light. But her silhouette is recognizable.
"(Y/n)!" Toki squeaks, his whole expression lighting up with a newfound hope. (Y/n) enters the room, smiling at her friends.
"I'm here. Here to save you." She slowly approached her horrified friends. The faces of her friends fall when another shadow joins the light. An all so familiar figure.
"(Y/n) watch out!" Abigail Cries and tries to warn her. Unfortunately (Y/n) is too slow to react. Before she could even turn around to see who was behind her, she struck on the head, knocking her out cold before she could even hit the ground.
The figure is standing over the unconscious (Y/n) on the ground. Toki and Abigail cower in fear.
~~~~
(Y/n) groans in pain as she comes to, she is seated upright in a chair. Her neck hurts from the uncomfortable position and she can feel a liquid trickle down her temple. Her wrists and feet were bound to the armrests and chair legs with ropes tightly, surely it would leave marks on her wrists.
Once she gains her bearings she looks up and makes eye contact with a familiar face. A face she had come to hate, “Of course, it’s you…” She hisses at her ex-lover: Magnus Hammersmith.
"You're still as surprising as always (Y/n)." Magnus says, sounding amused. He then leans forward, one of his forearms resting on his knee, curly hair swaying slightly. His expression softens a little, “And still as beautiful as the day you betrayed me.” He admits, reaching his hand closer to gingerly taking a strand of (Y/n) hair within his fingers, feels soft…
(Y/n) scoffs at him. She jerked her head away from him, her hair slipping from his grasp easily.
"There is no time for catch-up. I'm here to get what is dear to me." She says, staring daggers at him. "and you are not one of those people anymore." She sounds so cold. Naturally, that is. Magnus knows her, she won’t let anyone get in the way of the things she wants. And right now, all she wants is her friends.
He looks affected by (Y/n)'s words. It seems that his feelings are unrequited now. After he was kicked out of the band, and dumped by her, he spent months mourning the end of their relationship. Even after that, there is a part of him that still misses her, and now seeing her again has rekindled that fire.
Mangus leans back and crosses his arms, sighing in disappointment
"Just hand me my friends and walk away… Revenge is for pussies." (Y/n)'s tone is direct, not wasting any time.
"you don't see it, do you!" Magnus raises his voice and stands up, leaning over her, "doesn’t matter, you'll see it soon." He caresses her knuckles with his fingers, something he used to do often back then.
"Lock her up, but hurt her and you’re dead" Magnus orders two cannibals while pointing in the direction of the dungeon. The cannibals grab (Y/n)'s chair and drag it away from the former Dethklok member.
"You're gonna pay for this!" (Y/n) screams at Magnus as she disappears into the shadows.
~~~~
(Y/n)'s chair is pushed into a dark basement. The force causes the chair to tumble onto its side. (Y/n) groans in pain as her head makes a quick impact to the floor. She is still tied to the chair, stuck in the side and not able to move. The door closes and locks. The room is completely dark. It takes a moment for (Y/n)'s eyes to adjust and see a figure move slowly towards her with caution.
"(Y/n)! Are you hurt?" She can hear Abigail's quivering voice. She then feels someone fumble with the ropes, first her arms and then her legs. Once (Y/n) is free from her restraints, she crawls over to embrace Abigail tightly.
"oh God, Abby I'm so sorry I failed to save you and Toki, I'm so, so sorry." (Y/n) pleads for forgiveness into her friend's long and curly hair. Hugging her tightly in order to comfort her and herself as well. Abigail hugs (Y/n) back with the same force. Squeezing her back firmly. "You tried (Y/n), you did your best," she mumbles in response. While it was foolish to come along, the effort is still admirable.
"(Y-Y/n)?" a meek voice joins in. Toki crawls forward to the two women. (Y/n) gasps upon the sight of one of her dearest friends. She lets go of Abigail and wriggles out of her grip to shuffle over to Toki and embrace him. "(Y/n)? Am-ams yous real?" Toki questions shakily, moving his shaking hand to pet (Y/n)'s hair, which does feel real.
"I'm here, Toki. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come alone." (Y/n) remains a firm hold on her friend's shoulders, trying her best not to cry at the state Toki is in. Squeezing him securely, she turns her head to plant a kiss on his head, she has never done this before, but it felt right to express her affection like this. He needs it... One of her hands gently rakes through his hair to keep him close.
Toki starts to sob, clutching (Y/n) like his life depends on it, chanting her name over and over, like a prayer. Abigail shuffles over and joins the little group huddle. (Y/n) continues to mumble her apologies to the other two. Toki and Abigail give her a squeeze in response.
Over the course of a few days, (Y/n) did her best to stay as strong as she could. Although Magnus didn't seem to want to torture her. But it still hurt (Y/n) to watch her friends get hurt. If only she could get her hands on Magnus’ neck, she would snap it twice, decapitate him for good measure and then keep his scalp as a trophy. Her nails have been scrapping against the armrests of the chairs she gets tied in out of sheer anger.
(Y/n) got tied to the chair again and could do nothing but watch her friends being tortured. The feeling of helplessness eating away at her. Beating herself up for being so stupid in coming alone, beating Magus’ up mentally for being a pussy.
All she could do was pray that Dethklok would finally grow some balls and just get here already. Hopefully the fans would eventually realise that a band member is missing, that would surely motivate them.
~~meanwhile~~
Charles massages his forehead in a mix of frustration and exhaustion, there is no evidence of Toki’s and the producer’s whereabouts yet. Not even that… (Y/n) has gone missing now as well.
One Kloketeer walks up to the Manager with purpose, seemingly having no information to share.
"Sir, from the evidence found in Lord (L/n)’s room, it most likely they went out to find Toki and Mrs. Remeltindrinc." The kloketeer announces in a rather hurried tone.
"sir, (Y/n) has gone missing as well." a kloketeer announces to Charles, who sits up straight upon hearing the news. "what?" his tone is mixed with anger and astonishment. He should have known that (Y/n) would go after Toki and Abigail by herself.
Charles lays his face in his hand in disappointment. Glasses falling crooked upon the movement.
"damn it (Y/n)..." Typical (Y/n) would rather solve problems herself, and as usual she got in trouble for it.
~~~~
Being a hostage of Magnus and his goons felt like it was going on forever, but it was probably just a week or 3. Her wrists feel raw from the restraints, she’s exhausted and nearly completely burned down from her emotional distress and what is clearly a trauma that is developing.
She doesn’t have the energy to fight anymore, breathing hard to control herself. Toki and Abigail are hanging upside down on a cross. (Y/n) can’t stand to see Toki’s face like this, full of pain. He didn’t deserve any of this! He’s probably going to think that this was all his fault, which it really isn’t. If he is going to think like that, (Y/n) will have to remind him every day that it’s not his fault.
The door is suddenly kicked open, revealing the rest of Dethklok!
"Took you fucking long enough." (Y/n) complains as her adrenaline is kicked into action and she starts thrashing in her restraints. Murderface rushes over to her and he unties her, while the others save Toki and Magnus. "It wasch really difficult okay." He dares to argue back while lifting (Y/n) out of the chair, putting her arm over his shoulders to aid her balance. The others help Abigail and Toki down.
(Y/n) gets a feeling, a gut instinct. There are some loose ends she has to tie up. Surely if she didn’t it would haunt her for the rest of her life. (Y/n) wriggles out of Murderface’s grip and moves over to hold Abigail, she feels kind of cold. She squeezes her firmly to share what little remaining warmth she has herself.
Once the band is reunited, the prophecy has begun and that masked assassin is defeated, he is completely disintegrated, which is probably the most brutal thing (Y/n) has seen in a long time.
The red light dies down as (Y/n) leans over to Abigail to whisper something to her. "There is something is have to do." She says and lets her go to leave the building.
"Do what?" Abigail asks, she doesn't get an answer to her question as (Y/n) has already disappeared.
~~~~
Magnus was able to escape the building, shocked by what he had witnessed. He clutches the gaping wound in his chest, he fears that he won't last very long if this injury is left untreated.
It takes a moment for Magnus to notice the shadow looming over him, once he notices, Magnus slowly looks up in fear. But that fear dies down as soon as he sees who is standing over him.
"(Y/n)?" He spits out a bit of blood while croaking out her name. The look in her eyes is not as hateful as it was before.
(Y/n) looks apologetic, getting down on one knee in front of Magnus to converse with him. “You hurt my friends, Magnus. I cannot forgive you for what you’ve done. Revenge is for pussies." She says in a judgemental tone and takes out a handkerchief from her pocket that she takes on her person most times.
Magnus hisses in pain as she puts pressure on the bleeding wound. "But I… Missed you. And I know I kind of screwed you over too." (Y/n) admits sadly, looking Magnus in the eye. "And I'm going to grant you a second chance." She raises a hand on his cheek to keep his focus on her while she talks. "Don't make me regret it." (Y/n) Then grabs one of his arms to guide it over his shoulders, helping him up, taking him away to get help.
Magnus doesn't fight her and lets her take him away from all this. and like an angel, she grants him another chance at life, simply because she still has a soft spot for him.
~~~~
Magnus doesn’t remember how he got here when he awakens in a hospital bed, all alone. (Y/n) has disappeared, she had simply dropped him off it seems. He takes a moment to think before looking around the room. At the side of the hospital bed is where he finds something out of place. There is a bloody handkerchief and a small note. It reads:
'Contact me when you are ready.' - (Y/n) (L/n)
Followed with a phone number.
___________________________________________I swear to you, I want to write a sort of aftermath that I’m going to write later.Thanks for reading.
Summary : (Y/n) finds a drunk Pickles on the street and takes him home to take care of him.
_____________________________
(Y/n) lets out a deep sigh as she leaves the establishment where she works, her long shift is finally over. It seemed like it was dragging on forever, that always happens on slow days like this. Now (Y/n) can finally go home and get the rest they deserve, maybe down a glass of wine or two to ease her nerves a bit. She is blessed with the fact that she lives only 3 blocks away from her job, she can walk that easily. Even if it’s late and getting quite dark, she shouldn’t have to worry about walking home in what is practically her neighbourhood.
(Y/n) goes through the familiar street, passing a wide alley next to a restaurant. The alley is meant for the rubbish containers of that restaurant and for their supply chain to reach the back easily. (Y/n) has remembered that the resupply of the restaurant is on Wednesday and Friday, It’s Tuesday today…
(Y/n) shrieks as she misses a step and nearly trips as something grabs hold of her ankle suddenly. She glances down and sees a hand around her ankle, clutching the fabric of her jeans tightly, around the hand’s wrist is a very distinctive blue sweatband.
"Eeeyyy... (Y/N)!" Pickles the drummer drags himself out of the alley with his other arm. And once he reached her he clings to her leg with both hands, squeezing her calf.
"Pickles? How the fuck did you get all the way here!" (Y/n) yells out in surprise, grabbing Pickles by his arms to hoist him up on his feet. Pickles groans in discomfort with the sudden movement, stumbling to keep his balance and slightly failing to do so.
"ahyyy... Got Whiskeeeyy an-aaand followww tha' ra-rabbit! ..." Pickles slurs loudly, leaning his full weight on (Y/n) completely, causing her to also struggle to hold her balance with a grown man leaning on her.
“Oh, for fucks sake… Pickles. Where have you been now?” (Y/n) complains, besides asking she doesn’t really want an answer to her question in all honesty. Besides, it’s not really her business.
“I dunno…” Pickles shrugs, hanging over her shoulders. “I dunno where I aaaaam now… But somebody threw trash everywheeeere!” He gapes at the grossness of the alleyway where he was just found. Trash and a singular rat scattered across the concrete ground.
It appears that (Y/n) doesn’t have much of a choice. Then again, she’ll probably get scolded by Charles if she doesn’t do the right thing, right now.
"ugh, I'll get you out of here, and over to my place." (Y/n) sighs heavily in annoyance and starts walking towards the direction of her apartment, dragging a drunk man along with them, one of his arms draped over her shoulders and one of her arms holding him up by his waist.
Pickles giggles in a rather high tone, "Your place or mineeee~." He slurs slowly while trying to sound seductive. But the look on his drooping and drunk face only makes it sound gross.
(Y/n) scoffs, she knows that he is completely hammered right now. And it seems that he doesn’t remember all the other times (Y/n) had turned him down over the years they have known each other, he was too drunk for her those times, and he always is.
"We’re going to mine… Don't think too much of it!" (Y/n) huffs, this is going to be a long night. Hopefully, it’ll be shorter if she walks slightly faster.
~~~~
"Maaaannn! theees place eesss so fuckin' smo-smoll!" Pickles comments and burps right after as (Y/n) finally manages to open the door of her apartment with her foot. The small enough-to-be-called-a-studio apartment is just like (Y/n) had left it this morning. It’s too messy to accept quests, but she is sure that Pickles doesn’t care about that. He had seen her apartment when she just moved in 4 years ago.
"yeah well, having a huge multi-mansion like Mordhaus isn't very fucking practical either." (Y/n) argues back and kicks the front door closed with her foot once the two are both inside, the door is now closed and it’s dark in the apartment, the only light source is the city lights from the outside of her window, still light enough to see where you’re going.
(Y/n) manoeuvres over to the second-hand sofa and carelessly drops Pickles on it.
"eagerrrr ar-are ya huh?" He slurs, then he fumbles to try and fails to take off his pants. (Y/n) is quick to snatch his arm and pull it away, Pickles nearly loses balance by the movement. He decided to take that as a ‘no’.
"stop that!" She demands, growing more and more frustrated with the man and his behaviour. She swiftly moves to the other side of the sofa. She grabs both of his legs roughly to take off his sneakers, placing his legs back on the sofa to make sure he is lying down on it now. "You're gonna stay here and sleep until the morning!" (Y/n) orders sternly, pointing to the furniture Pickles is half-lying on.
"Youuuuu... go-got it!!" He hiccups, putting his thumbs up with a stupid drooling smile. And then right after that, Pickles blacks out on the sofa.
"Holy shit..." (Y/n) huffs in exhaustion, stretching her back after standing up. Maybe she popped something while dragging him to her place, he is heavier than he looks. Not to mention how sour he smells. (Y/n) figures that Pickles should be fine where he is. One last look at him and they take off to go to her own bedroom.
~~the next morning~~
Another day. Another hangover follows. It is something that he’ll never get used to, even after most of his teenage years and adult life until now, one single hangover still manages to knock him down a tad.
His vision is blurry and his head is pounding, it feels like there is a construction going on right outside the window.
He doesn't recognize the blurry colours of the small room. Where the hell did he end up now? Despite that he is not sure where he is, it feels safe. Hopefully, he’ll figure it out later…
Moving his head in the slightest causes the construction outside to get louder, causing the drummer to groan in discomfort. Sliding his legs off the couch he was lying to stand up. His legs feel like jelly and instantly give away once he puts pressure on them, causing him to tumble and fall over.
"oof," he complains, using his hands to break his fall on time. Luckily there is a rug on the floor. His head is spinning, along with the blurry colours of the room. A brilliant mix of orange, grey and blue.
"Be careful now. You're not new to this, right." (Y/n) walks into the living room. A cup of some warm steaming beverage in one of her hands. "(Y/n)? Is that you?" Pickles squints to sharpen his blurry vision.
(Y/n) sighs and puts the cup of a warm beverage on the stylish coffee table. "yeah, c'mon let's go to the bathroom." (Y/n) says and grabs Pickles' arms to pick him up and help him to the bathroom.
"why-" the drummer cuts himself off as he feels the contents of his stomach rise.
"yep, bathroom it is." he groans, clutching his stomach with one hand. (Y/n) makes sure to get to her bathroom as quickly as possible. She doesn’t have any sawdust left to clean up bile effectively.
And now they’re in the bathroom.
Pickles is hunched over the toilet and (Y/n) is sitting on the side of the bathtub, holding his dreadlocks back in one hand as he empties his stomach in the toilet of her bathroom.
(Y/n) has no idea how Pickles got into her neighbourhood. And frankly, she doesn’t even want to know. It probably involved alcohol, drugs or both. And that explains enough for her.
Surely, she would have to call Charles and maybe Nathan later to let the band know where their drummer is. He is with the band-friend this time. "argh!" Pickles spits his despair into the toilet, making the noise echo a little bit in the small two-bedroom apartment that (Y/n) owns.
"you put this upon yourself, you know? Why even?" (Y/n) says matter-of-factly. Despite complaining about the situation, she remains by his side, holding back his dreads.
"yeeh, Fuck!" Pickles snaps back in frustration. (Y/n) only growls in response, returning the equal frustration. Then takes her phone to call Charles. Pickles continues to hug the toilet and (Y/n) is making calls while remaining seated on the side of the bathtub.
"This sight of you is really sad y'know. I don’t want to keep worrying about where you’ll end up next." (Y/n) says while scrolling through her contacts to search for the number of the band manager and lawyer. And maybe there is some tea left for Pickles as well. That should do him good.
Pickles stays silent, still hanging over the toilet. He thinks it’s funny that the toilet itself smells rather clean, (Y/n) keeps track of her cleaning. He can hear (Y/n)’s footsteps leaving the bathroom.
He sighs and slowly gets on back on his feet, flushes the toilet then goes to the sink to drink water and wash the taste of vomit away.
Then Pickles washes his face with the fresh cool water, then looks in the bathroom mirror.
He looks horrible, that's what he thinks personally. A complete mess of a human being… He has been like that for as long as he can remember. And he can hardly remember his younger years anyway!
The drummer remains staring blankly at his reflection for a while, before noticing something colourful in the corner of his sight.
A neon pink sticky post-it note on the right corner of the mirror. It reads: You are great!
It makes Pickles smirk a little. He thinks that (Y/n) must have placed it there to motivate herself.
It's kind of cute, he should do that too!
~~~~
(Y/n) is looking out of the window, the level of her apartment gives her a decent view of the sad little town. It gives her something to look at while she makes phone calls.
"yeah, yeah I will... I'll be seeing you once you decide to pick him up… I don’t trust him to make it home by himself, you know?” (Y/n) speaks to Charles on the other side of the line, surely he can understand her concerns. As a close friend of the band from the beginning, Charles has entrusted (Y/n) to keep an eye on the band when he cannot. She was already doing that anyway…
“understood, I’ll make sure a dethlimo will pick him up soon, keep an eye on him, alright.” Charles’s monotone voice holds a pinch of serenity, it is known to her that he does care about the band. With the way he calls them ‘the boys’ so affectionately. Although she has never really known how he feels about her, despite being with the band for longer. It’s not very relevant right now.
“will do, bye." (Y/n) hangs up her phone and walks into the kitchen to fetch a drink for Pickles. She still has some tea left, which should make him feel better. Never mind all the times she had nursed Pickles out of a hangover before, not to mention the rest of the band. They always say that caring is not Metal, but her moral compass judges her as well.
(Y/n) pours some remaining hot tea into another mug for the drummer. She then takes the mug and re-enters the living room where she places the tea for Pickles next to her own nearly forgotten beverage on the worn coffee table.
"Pickles? You okay in there?" She shouts at the open doorway of the bathroom, she can’t see into the bathroom from this angle.
"ahm Fine, hold on!" She hears him shout back, and then she hears a tap open and close before footsteps stumble into the hall, and the light of the bathroom turns off.
(Y/n) takes a seat, and not long after, Pickles enters the room. He looks a bit better already, leaning on the doorpost to aid his balance. He still does look tired though.
(Y/n) offers the drummer a lazy smile, patting the spot on the sofa next to her. "come sit, I made some tea for you." She offers and gestures to the mug that’s steaming on the coffee table. (Y/n) already has her mug, taking small sips from it, the beverage was hotter than she had expected, she truly believed that it had cooled down already.
Pickles gives (Y/n) a look of confusion with a hint of intrigue. "Tea? Neva’ had that before. Is it alcoholic?" he shuffles over and takes a seat right next to her. The sofa feels sturdy but still comfortable.
"No…” (Y/n) shakes her head, a little amused. “Here you go.” (Y/n) reaches for Pickles’ mug of tea meant for him. Pickles flexes his fingers before taking the drink from his friend.
Pickles stares at the drink for a moment. The warmth of the beverage comforted his cramped and calloused hands. It kind of has the same colour as whiskey except that it’s warm to the touch.
"it'll do you good." (Y/n) says after already finishing her own drink. Her tea is a little too warm to drink comfortably, but at least that wakes her up more, as it’s still 8:30 in the morning.
Hesitating for a moment, he takes a sip, tastes it and then smiles to himself.
It tastes quite good...
Summary: Toki is not the best at cooking and after one more mishap during making snacks, (Y/n) decides to teach him how to cook a meal.
_______________________________________
(Y/n) turns up her nose at the smell of burning plastic once she enters the very large kitchen in Mordhaus to get a snack and a drink.
"stop burning the plastic Toki! " she scolds as the burning smell whiffs through her nostrils. "ai!" Toki yelps in surprise as he is snapped out of his daydreaming. Rushing over to look in the oven, which's once again ruined by molten plastic at the bottom of the heat source.
"nei, nei! Nots agains! Fucks!" he yells in frustration and tries to take out the mess from the oven to get rid of with charming pink oven mitts.
"I thought you were in charge of the snacks around here?" (Y/n) wanders over to the double-door fridge to get a cold soda and then approaches the kitchen part where Toki is located. If a fire breaks out, she would be here to help, (Y/n) eyes the fire extinguisher that is hanging in the corner. Not to mention that there are sprinkles installed in the kitchen after a few too many incidents.
"Toki ams in charges of snacks! But the others don'ts wants to eat the greens!" he explains sadly, throwing away the still smoking and charted piece of plastic with the black-as-coal corpse of some food inside.
"at leasts you dos…" he sighs and looks away almost out of shame. (Y/n) is not a picky eater at all and would eat all the exotic fruit salads that Toki is good at making. It’s cooking foods that he wasn’t very good at, or he loses his patience with cooking foods most likely.
(Y/n) opens her can of soda, takes one chug of it and thinks hard. Despite having her own room in Mordhaus, (Y/n) still lives in her own place in a dingy apartment in the nearest town. Completely self-sustainable and independent for years since moving out. The band is fascinated with the fact that (Y/n) is an adult who owns a license and can cook her own food.
"you know what Toki? I can help you make snacks. In fact, I can even teach you how to cook." she suggests and helps the rhythm guitarist with cleaning the leftover mess up a bit.
Upon the suggestion of assistance, Toki looks at (Y/n) with wonder "You can cooks?" He asks in astonishment, causing (Y/n) to chuckle. She never fails to surprise the band member every time with her domestic skills. "Sure I can!” (Y/n) smiles at him. “And I will teach you the basics if you wanna make good snacks." Toki nods excitedly in response to (Y/n). It is a great opportunity to spend more time with his friend, and she gets to teach him her ways of cooking food! That’s a double win for him.
"Great! How about we start right away. We're in the kitchen right now anyway. " (Y/n) grins and takes the moment to drink the rest of her soda and throw the can away to get started together with the rhythm guitarist.
~~~~
"First things first, we gather the tools we need to cook. You know pot pans and a spatula of sorts." (Y/n) explains to Toki, opening a low cupboard and taking out the pans that she would need for a dish that she plans to teach Toki. A very simple meal that shows the basics, should be right to teach for the first cooking lesson.
"Okay." Toki inspects (Y/n)’s movements before following and opening a drawer to get some cooking tools.
"We are going to make something basic, just some pork and cooked veggies and potatoes, that should be nice for the very first lesson." (Y/n) says, picking up the ingredients from the fridge that she needs for the tutorial that she is about to perform for the rhythm guitarist.
"If you can get a cutting board for me?" (Y/n) requests politely, Toki goes to look for a cutting plank to cut the green beans. He finds one and brings it over back to her, the smile on his face never fading as he places the cutting board before her dutifully.
"Okay, Here. I'm gonna let you cut the vegetables."(Y/n) instructs while handing Toki a kitchen knife to cut and then places the green beans on the cutting board. "Can you cut these, carefully?" She asks him and he nods in response. Toki stands before the cutting board and gets to work, gingerly cutting the green beans into niche little pieces, just as she had asked. (Y/n) watches for a moment and then retrieves a pot to fill it with water and let it boil for the green beans and potatoes.
(Y/n) lets the water boil while taking a moment to stare at the back of the guitarist’s head and takes notice of something. She digs into her pocket and takes a hair-band from her pocket, she stands behind him and gently gathers his hair in one hand.
"Hm? Whats are you doings." Toki questions while momentarily stopping the knife, trying to turn back to see what (Y/n) is doing with his locks.
"Pay attention Toki! You’re holding a knife.” (Y/n) scolds in a rather playful tone. We don't want hair in the food do we?" She says, taking the hair-tie and putting all of Toki's hair in a loose ponytail that falls down his back neatly.
"There." She smirks at her accomplishment. It took a lot of trial and error for her to figure out why there was always hair in her food, long hair should remain tied while working with food. Toki is now sporting a low ponytail and It looks rather cute.
(Y/n) turns back to her own work of her own work, gathering the pork burgers and some oil to put in the pan. The stoves in Mordhaus are pretty brutal and they heat things up a whole lot faster than (Y/n)’s own stove at home.
"Ouchies!" Toki suddenly yelps in pain, the knife clatters on the metal counter as he drops it instinctively. Flinching back from the counter and clutching his right wrist tightly.
(Y/n) jumps at the sound of her friend yelling, seemingly in pain. She already concludes that Toki must have accidentally cut himself while cutting the vegetables. She feels partly responsible for this incident now.
"Toki, I told you to be careful!" She scolds quietly and gingerly grabs his hands to make him let go of his own wrist to take a look at what he did. It’s not the worst thing in the world that (Y/n) has seen. Then again, a musician’s hands and fingers are sacred. There is only a single cut, that slices over the back of his index and middle finger. Toki hisses as it’s bleeding quite hard.
"Hold it." (Y/n) turns back away and gets the first-aid kit that should be lying around here somewhere. Luckily she was able to find one under the sink. Turning back to a panicked-looking Toki, she waves him over.
"Come here." She orders him and Toki doesn’t think twice. She grabs his wounded hand, Opening the water tap and holds his hand under the cold water to clean the cut, letting the water wash it out.
The guitarist hisses in discomfort as the water makes the cuts slightly sting. Once the blood is a bit cleaned up, (Y/n) gets two band-aids and wraps each injured finger up, dressing the little wounds up neatly.
"There, see? You're still alive." (Y/n) jokes, noticing how sad Toki looked at his now bandaged fingers.
"Shall I cut the vegetables?" (Y/n) asks and Toki nods in response, inspecting the bright blue band-aids on his fingers and stepping aside to let (Y/n) do the cutting and he simply watches. (Y/n) resumes Toki’s work, slicing the green beans into pieces, then she picks up the board and slides the vegetables into the pot with boiling water to the knife.
"I didn'ts knows cookings had so manys steps." Toki looks in awe at what (Y/n) is teaching him, peering into the pot to see the green beans be enveloped by the bubbling hot water.
"This is actually a pretty basic thing to know." (Y/n) replies casually, stirring the vegetables with a spoon before returning to the cutting board to get the pre-peeled potatoes to boil as well. Toki manoeuvres around (Y/n) to keep watch, getting out of her way when she turns around.
"My parents taught me how to cook, they’re supposed to teach you everything. Didn’t yours?” (Y/n) is a little too focused on her cooking to really filter herself. And once she realises what she says, she kind of pales.
Turning to look at Toki, he is staring back with a completely empty look. It’s really scary how Toki can suddenly lose all life in his eyes like that.
“Oh my god! I’m so sorry. Fuck…” She quickly apologizes for being so insensitive. Toki blinks a couple of times and the life to his pale blue eyes returns, (Y/n) looks back to her cooking out of embarrassment.
(Y/n) is slightly aware of his childhood, which explains his behaviour today. But she has a hard time relating to him, her own childhood was great. Loving parents and loving siblings, still in contact today.
"Here." (Y/n) breaks the uncomfortable silence and gently takes Toki's hand, placing the spatula into his hand. "make sure that everything is cooked evenly." (Y/n) instructs as steps aside for him to take charge. motioning for Toki to try and flip over the piece of meat. "see?"
Toki successfully flips the patty over, hearing the meat sizzle from the searing heat.
The guitarist smiles brightly a his accomplishment. “Looks! I dids it!” He points at the pan. “Very good! You’re getting the hang of this." (Y/n) praises with glee, patting him on the back of his shoulder.
The guitar feels a sense of pride upon receiving praise from his friend. There is nothing like quality time together.
"This is funs." Toki replies with a smile, cooking the patty by himself now..
"I know right. Eating a meal feels a lot more rewarding when you made it yourself. It's a handy skill to possess." (Y/n) explains, lifting the lid of one of the pots to check in on the boiling vegetables, it’s going good so far.
(Y/n) smiles, blinking at the steam that hits their face. "Alright, it's almost ready." She drops the lid on the pot. "I'll get some plates and then dinner is ready." She then moves away to gather the items she said she’d get.
After the plates are prepared for a dinner for two. After baking the potatoes and the green beans were cooked, and The meals were complete.
~~~~
Once the dinner for two is done and served. Toki and (Y/n) sit down at the nearby table to try the dish that they just made together. In all honesty, for Toki the meal is amazing, probably the best meal he can remember having. he eats the pork patty with glee and (Y/n) looks upon her guitarist friend with amusement as he finishes his meal. he seems to really love it.
Of course, (Y/n) is enjoying the meal herself as well. As she had mentioned before, a meal is way more rewarding when eating. Some people think cooking is a waste of time because eating it takes about 15 minutes. Whoever thinks like that doesn’t take pride in their own creations, which is very sad.
the the green beans are perfectly boiled and the potatoes are well baked and have a crunch to them, in (Y/n)’s opinion, that’s a good thing.
"Wowee! This is so greats (Y/n)!" Toki cheers with a mouthful of food. "Be proud of yourself Toki. We made this together." (Y/n) replies with a smile, taking both hers and Toki's plates and utensils to clean them up.
"cans we do this agains sometimes? Then yous can helps me makes snacks for the others." Toki asks rather sheepishly, standing up and following (Y/n) to help her with the dishes.
"Of course, we can do this again! I'll help you become just as good at cooking as me. Maybe even better!" (Y/n) winks at the guitarist playfully, smiling cheekily at him. Toki turns cherry pink in the face at (Y/n)’s gesture, and then returns the smile.
"it's a deal then."
___________________________________________
I like this one a lot. And I hope you do too! It’s really cute and it doesn’t have a lot of plot to be honest. It’s a simple story.
I have been into Metalocalypse again lately, thrilled that it's on HBO Max now (so I don't have to watch it illegally again LOL)
I have decided to rewrite my old Metalocalypse stories. I've been thinking about doing that for a while and maybe it'll clear my head if I actually do it this time, haha.
Sadly, while cleaning up old unused drafts and scrapped projects I accidentally deleted my Metalocalypse folder! :(
I have been able to recover a few drafts but a lot of them are now lost forever I'll have to rewrite them as well from scratch. (They were cringe anyway)
Enough chit-chat, Metalocalypse Stories are being rewritten completely and updated to current ability as a writer, that should be fun. Along with completely new stories that weren't recovered, and were never posted here.
There are going to be a lot of changes, maybe some that you don't like as much, but that is completely your problem then.
See you soon.
Kind regards,
- Smilex
PS: update stories will be reposted and old drafts will be deleted.
Summary: (Y/n) still continues to show herself in his life and he can’t understand why. Why doesn’t she leave him like everyone else has? Even when he is directly faced with the consequences of his misdeeds.
(A/n): This story can be seen as a continuation of Bitter Revenge, but it’s not directly that.
“You’ve got a visitor, Pendleton.” Officer Coleridge appears at the bars of his cell. Murphy’s eyes drop from the drawing on the corkboard and meet the Officer’s hopeful gaze.
A visitor, that could only be one person…
Without another word, Murphy stands up with a huff and reaches his hands out the open space in between the bars to get cuffed by the officer.
“You still have contact with someone?” The officer starts to make small talk with the prisoner. Murphy snorts, (Y/n) is still as stubborn as she used to be and is still trying to reach him.
“Childhood friend…” Murphy replies to the officer, “She… won’t let go, never has.” Coleridge grins at the prisoner’s reply.
“That means you mean something to her. She cares for you, and you should cherish that.” He smiles as the two reach the visitation ward.
Once the two entered the ward, there was a separate space for each visit, Coleridge wordlessly directed Murphy to one space.
Murphy swallows nervously, ready for a scolding from his friend.
He doesn’t look at the other side of the wired glass until he sits down. Looking up, he finally looks up and makes eye contact with the only person willing to see him from outside, (Y/n).
Her gaze is less scolding than he has assumed, but still stern. She looks more disappointed than mad or hateful.
Her movement is smooth as she picks up the receiver from her side, moving it to her face without breaking eye contact.
Murphy mirrors her movements, bringing the receiver from his side to his ear.
“(Y/n)?” He calls her name quietly, but despite her facial expressions, he still prepares himself for a scolding.
"What have you done, Murphy?" She asks, desperate to understand his situation.
Murphy's feeling of nervousness sinks away, replaced with determination.
"What I have. to do…" His answer is cryptic, keeping his motives vague for both her and the officers monitoring him.
"No, you don't." (Y/n)'s gaze turns sorrowful, causing him to feel a pinch of hurt in his tormented heart. He is sure she is smart enough to come to the conclusion of his plans on her own, she knows everything that happened that led to this.
"Yes, I do." He argues, that his desire for revenge is greater. "He has to pay. People like him don't deserve to be coddled by prisons." he tries to reason, but by the look on her face, she doesn't seem to budge.
She lets out a deep disappointed sigh, "I kept your space on my sofa, you know." (Y/n) confesses to missing him. "I'm not giving up on you, Murphy…Please reconsider. I'll be waiting for you." She says, placing her hand on the glass. Murphy hesitates but returns the gesture, touched by her words.
"Time's up." An officer calls and the two are separated again.
~~~~
As she promised, (Y/n) didn’t give up on him. Showing up for visitation every week, and sometimes two days a week.
And she even got gifts for him on his birthdays! For three whole years, this kept up. Murphy was sure that one day (Y/n) would eventually grow tired of waiting for him. That she'd just stop showing up and abandon him, but she didn't…
But she never left him throughout their history. Minimizing contact was his idea when he got married. She was never happy about that. But losing a few friends when getting engaged is a normal occurrence.
But now, she is almost all he has left. And he is growing paranoid.
Murphy’s thoughts are scattered, unsure if what he is doing is the right thing. On one hand, he wants to get his revenge on the man who took his son’s life and subsequently his as well. And on the other, he wants to stay with (Y/n)... or at least to be able to go back to her and then stay with her. And in his wildest fantasies, maybe start over…
Murphy opened up to Coleridge about the “mysterious lady-friend” as Coleridge puts it.
He described her as a “long-time friend who has been there for him through thick and thin. And she is not letting him go, even now.”
Officer Coleridge seemed pleased to hear this.
“That friend of yours, (Y/n). You shouldn’t keep her waiting for any longer than necessary, right?” Coleridge speaks up while escorting Murphy to his cell. Murphy’s gaze remains downcast, he slightly regrets telling him (Y/n)’s name and now he won’t stop talking about her resulting in Murphy being unable to stop thinking about her.
“Such forgiving people as her are rare to come by. If you find one, you should keep them close.” Frank wisely states, Murphy cringes inside. He is drowning in conflicted thoughts and desires.
~~~~
Murphy has a journal in his cell to write down his thoughts, having your freedom taken away really does something to a person, and certainly when you have such a difficult situation as Murphy has. Every night just before lights out, he’d jot down his thoughts to keep them organized.
Murphy eventually decides to go through with what he has planned from the start. Accepting Officer Sewell’s offer for help and getting to Napier, he is going to get what is coming to him for sure. He can’t help but wonder what (Y/n) would think of it. She understands why, but doesn’t know how, and not when either. She made a promise to him, would she live up to it? Surely, she is not one to break promises, even if it involves Murphy’s revenge fantasy coming to life.
Taking a seat at the side of his cot, Murphy pulls the dusty journal from under his pillow, along with a pen. Opening to an empty page to put his mind on paper for all to see.
Dear, (Y/n)
I’m still surprised that you’re around. You are really not letting go of me, are you? Typical (Y/n). Even when we worked at the cinema as rowdy teens you stood up for me even if it meant getting punished unjustly. And I admire you for that, how forgiving you are.
Would you still forgive me for what I’m about to do? I cannot rest until that monster gets what he deserves. I can't lose you either, you're all I have left, (Y/n). Please don't leave me…
Murphy's writing comes to a halt when a droplet falls on the paper, smudging the ink. He leans forward and rubs his face and lets out a heavy sigh.
Emotions running high.
He can only ponder what is coming to bite him in the end, even if he can't go unpunished for the misdeeds that are yet to be committed.
~~3 weeks later~~
“What do you mean transferred?” (Y/n) asks the desk sergeant in astonishment. The officer lazily pushes his glasses up his crooked nose, “I’m sorry ma’am… But due to alternative events, the prisoner under the name, Murphy Pendleton is being transferred to a maximum security prison." He explains with boredom evident in his voice.
(Y/n) is desperate for more answers on what is happening to her friend. "Was there a riot or something?" She questions with her voice raised. She really doesn’t wish to make a scene, she wants to know what is becoming of her friend. "I'm afraid that's classified for you ma'am." The sergeant replies in the same monotone voice, only frustrating (Y/n) more. Surely, she is not the first to react like this if his reactions are so minimal.
To refrain from screaming, (Y/n) takes deep calming breaths and rubs her eyes. "Can you at least tell me where he is being transferred to? I'm his emergency contact." She asks with a much more controlled attitude.
The Sergeant's shoulders drop, finally relenting. "Fine, he and a group of inmates are being transferred to Wayside Maximum Security Penitentiary." He replies slowly. His eyes ghosted over the screen of his monitor. (Y/n) sighs, triumphant in her answer.
Then (Y/n) doesn’t waste any more time, thanks the desk sergeant and leaves the premises to her car.
In her car she takes a few deep breaths, Her friend is going to a maximum security prison, meaning that she can't visit him any more than she wants to. (Y/n) has to do her best not to cry, She has been trying so hard for Murphy, to be there for him as much as she can. But it’s getting difficult to do so the longer she is apart from him, separated by steel bars.
She leans her head against the back of the car seat, closing her eyes to calm down. She made a promise to him, and he’d be all alone if she left him now, and that is the last thing she’d wish upon him. No matter how hard it gets. Leaning forward again, (Y/n) turns on her GPS and types in the name of the penitentiary to make sure she knows where it is, then she can fill out the paperwork regarding being Murphy’s emergency contact.
Hopefully, it is not too far from the previous prison.
Whilst driving towards her desired location, (Y/n) can feel her mind reeling with unanswered questions and mysteries. What on earth happened in that prison that required Murphy to be transferred to Maximum Security? The desk sergeant did say anything, so her best assumption is that Murphy got involved in something, which doesn’t surprise her much with him being high on the desire for revenge, she had feared this all along.
(Y/n) becomes a little distracted while thinking hard, not very safe if you’re driving in this growing fog. Just in time (Y/n) spots the large crevice that completely cuts off the road. startled by the road suddenly missing, she swirls her car off the road into the ditch, the vehicle tumbling down the hill and finally coming to a stop at its side at the bottom.
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That’s quite a cliffhanger, isn’t it? The ending is terribly rushed, I know. But I think it highlights the separation between Murphy and the Reader's Character.Thank you for reading.-Smilex
I was gonna write some headcanons with the silent hill character I have written for before.
I have done headcanons in other fandoms, but this time I changed the layout for them as actually dating headcanon-ish, the previous layout took really long to make.
Also I was gonna write for Harry Mason too... But he is not my favourite character of the franchise... sorry... it's just really difficult to write for a character that is not you favourite, you know?
Summary: Henry sometimes has these nights where he just can’t seem to sleep. (Y/n) stays awake as well to accompany him.
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For the 7th time, Henry squirms to roll around. Yet again trying to find a good position to sleep in. Eventually, he landed just sprawled on his back, looking up at the shadow-covered ceiling. Moving his head to the side, he can make out a silhouette of (Y/n) seemingly sleeping on her side with her back towards him. Henry takes a deep breath, the sound of him inhaling air is deafening in the complete silence of the night.
The figure beside him shifts, startling him a little. (Y/n) moves to lay on her back, head moving to make eye contact with Henry, sort of… It’s difficult to see in this darkness.
“What’s the matter?” Comes her soft voice, laced with sleep. “Can’t sleep?”
Henry shakes his head in response but then remembers that she can’t see him very well. “No…” He replies quietly.
(Y/n) blindly reaches over, and misses a few times and then eventually grasping his hand with some effort. She squeezes, and Henry squeezes back.
He has trouble focusing, switching back and forth with his own mind and the faint breathing of both (Y/n) and himself.
Occasionally she rubs her thumb over his skin and that brings him back.
“I have wondered…” (Y/n) begins, her voice in a whisper. It’s silent enough for Henry to hear her clearly. She drags his hand over to rest on her stomach, toying with his fingers.
“The sky is normally blue, right? Then at sunset, it’s orange or red. I’ve heard that the sky is actually all colours instead of just blue, which could be true. Hey, that rhymes.” She laughs quietly. Henry knows she’s rambling, but that doesn’t matter. He loves her voice.
He returns the gesture and rubs his own thumb over his hand, hoping she can read this as a signal to continue talking. “At my parents' home, there is a time of the day when the sky is three colours at the same time when the sun goes down. It’s the most beautiful thing, you’d agree if you’ve seen it for yourself.” She says, but Henry is having a hard time picturing what she means. “Yeah?” He comments in a hushed tone, his grip on her hand tightening.
“yeah. Knowing you, you’d be standing outside taking pictures the whole time.” She giggles.
“And I think my mom would like you.” She adds a little quieter this time, which catches Henry’s attention. He has not met her parents yet, and from the hints she gave him, she really wants him to. She had even asked about his parents before, but he dismissed her question about them.
“You think so?” He asks. (Y/n)’s statement causes him to get flustered. “Yes, she will think you’re right for me.” (Y/n) explains and shuffles closer, turning on her side and leaning against Henry, causing him to swallow nervously. Her arm wraps around his shoulder, effectively hugging him, but it still makes him a little nervous. Regardless, Henry returns the gesture and snakes an arm around her shoulders to keep her close. The two now cuddling in bed.
“She’ll bring up random interesting facts. Like how green eyes as yours are very rare to come by.” (Y/n) continues, snuggling close to him. “They are?” He questions aloud, he had never thought about it. He can feel her nod, “Mhm, green eyes are rarer than blue or brown.” She states, and the more Henry thinks about it, yeah, it does make sense slightly. Not that he really pays attention to other people’s eyes, but when he recalls his encounters, green eyes were uncommon to see for him.
“My dad might be a little weary in the beginning, but he’ll warm up to you, don’t worry.” (Y/n) continues, “He might not like your hair as much, though.” She adds, lifting her arm, and moving her hand to move Henry’s bangs out of his eyes. Such a simple display of affection still makes his stomach flutter and his face feel hot.
It makes him feel soft, willing to hug her back, squeezing her to his side.
It’s once again silent, “I, uh… I can’t find anything else to talk about…” (Y/n) confesses truthfully. She is still lying comfortably against Henry’s side.
Then Henry decided it was time for him to speak up.
“On my way to the hardware store, I saw four cats, and on my way back I saw the exact same one.” He says quietly, not sure if this start of his little story is appreciated.
“Oh? Did you?” (Y/n) questions with interest, head moving to nuzzle him.
“One of those cats was red, one was completely back, another was completely white, and the last was a tabby cat. I always liked the Tabby cats the most.” He explains thoughtfully, (Y/n) giggles quietly, “I like the black ones the most, they’re like shadows.” She replies playfully.
Henry hums in agreement, a slight smile forming on his lips. This is nice, being close to the one you love most and being able to talk about whatever you want in the darkest, most unholy hour of the night.
“The black one allowed me to pet him, he rubbed his side against my legs,” Henry adds, his smile evident in his voice, causing (Y/n) to smile as well. “That is adorable. And on the way back too?” she asks and he confirms with a curt nod. “The cat liked me,” he says, the memory of that lovely cat makes his gut flutter, it felt good to get attention from that animal.
“As they should.” (Y/n) replies, scooting in a more comfortable position by his side. "Are you a cat person, Henry?" She asks her head a perfect fit between his jaw and his shoulder. "Hmmm, I prefer cats over dogs, but we didn’t have pets when I was little. My mother is allergic to them." Henry explains thoughtfully, seemingly remembering his 'unsentimental' childhood.
(Y/n) doesn't reply for a moment, thinking hard about what she is going to say next.
"We could get a cat…" (Y/n) innocently suggests, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "Sure, they're not as blindly trusting as dogs, but when you do earn their trust, it feels very special." She sighs, relaxing against him.
Henry also needs a moment to think about it.
Taking care of an animal requires a lot of responsibility, especially with a little kitten of sorts.
Henry let's put a big sigh, "I'll think about it." He breathes, only getting a sleepy groan in response, (Y/n) feels heavy against him. She must have fallen asleep. Henry remains entirely still, fearing that moving might wake her up.
Eventually, he fell asleep too.
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I'm not sure what this is. Thinking of a good prompt with Henry is actually really hard.
Summary: Carol divorces Murphy and kicks him out and with no other place to go, he goes and visits an old friend. Surely she would let him stay with her.
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(Y/n) has made sure that her doorbell is loud enough that she can hear it through her whole house, but she simply didn’t expect to hear it at this hour, from the bathroom where she was brushing her teeth.
In a hurry to answer the door, her toothbrush is still in her mouth as she rushes to the door, not really thinking who could be out there at this time, the neighbour seems like the most likely to be calling.
But that doesn’t seem the chase when she opens the door…
“Mrmph?” (Y/n) attempts to call with a toothbrush in her mouth that’s full of foam. she swallows the foam and tries again. “Murphy?” she questions again, seeing the man in question looking distraught before her, leaning against the door frame. “Can I come in? Please?” He sounds exhausted and desperate. Who is she to deny him while he is in this state? Even though she hadn’t seen him in years. (Y/n) pushes the door further open and steps aside from him to enter, which he does with a shuffle in his step.
That’s when (Y/n) notices that Murphy is soaking wet, evident by the fact that it’s raining lightly outside, he must have been outside for some time to get this wet.
If (Y/n) doesn’t do anything about it, Murphy might get sick or something. Of course, she doesn’t want that. So while Murphy makes himself at home, slumping on the couch, (Y/n) rushes to her bathroom to snatch a towel, returning to the living room and throwing the towel in Murphy’s direction, he catches it effortlessly. “Thanks…” He replies and throws the towel over his head to dry off his hair first. “I’ll make you some tea, I still got some.” (Y/n) says and disappears in the kitchen to make him a drink.
Murphy takes a moment to take everything in, it’s been a while since he has seen his old friend; (Y/n). They used to work in the same Cinema together, that’s how they met. It was (Y/n) who repeatedly got him out of trouble since then. He even got (Y/n) in trouble once, and he still remembers that vividly.
Murphy is surprised she even let him in and is still nice to him after all that has happened. But he really has nowhere else to go.
The living room is minimalistic but comfortable, even cosy. It has everything it needs to be called a living room. The warm yellow glow of the lamps colour the room, he can hear the clock ticking through the low-volume radio that is on for the background noise.
Murphy fiddles with the fabric of the towel he was given, rough and worn from use, it’s an old towel. Taking a deep breath, Murphy lets his guard down.
Then, (Y/n) returns with two steaming mugs of tea, placing them down on the coffee table neatly and sitting down next to him. The two have a lot of catching up to do.
"What causes you to knock on my door this late?" (Y/n) questions, knowing already that it wasn't pretty by then sour look on his face.
"Carol…kicked me out," Murphy explains solemnly, eyes trained on the floor.
(Y/n)'s shoulders dropped in astonishment.
She had still kept contact with Murphy through letters all these years. She was present at his wedding, and at one of his son's birthday parties, and when his son went missing it got quiet.
Then she heard about the boy's untimely demise.
"Oh, was it about-" "Yes." Murphy cut her off.
(Y/n) gut clenches in sympathy.
Her heart goes out to her friend beside her, a man who just lost everything he cherished dearly. One tragedy after another, his life just put together, had fallen apart just like that.
"Oh my god, Murphy… I'm so sorry that yo-" "Don't bother!" He cuts her off angrily again, waving her hand away when she tries to touch him. He stands up and walks to the window, It's all dark and there is nothing to see.
"It's because of him! He took my boy, he took everything from me!" He roars in anger, his knuckles turning white from clenching his fists.
(Y/n) stands up, hands up in an attempt to calm him down, "Murphy you have to ca-" "SHUT UP! Don't tell me to calm down! You don't understand what it’s like to lose someone close to you!" He yells and points at (Y/n) accusingly. That's not true, (Y/n) lost her grandparents and an uncle, she knows damn well what loss feels like.
(Y/n) remains quiet, she knows he is grieving. And he has all right to be, she wouldn't wish this tragedy upon her worst enemy, but she is certain Murphy would.
"He has to pay! He has to pay for what he did! I lost everything!" His anger melts into sadness at the end of his screaming. Shoulders dropping, he presses his hands into his palms, (Y/n) now thinks it's safe to approach him, Placing her hands on his shaking shoulders, she leans against him in a sort of hug.
Now, close. She can hear his muffled gasps of sorrow.
(Y/n) tries not to cry herself, hands moving around his waist to hug him from behind.
After a moment, Murphy turns around in her embrace and hugs her back tightly, holding onto the last remaining piece of his stable life.
~~Two Weeks Later~~
Murphy has been staying at (Y/n)'s place ever since. Sleeping on the sofa. Mixed emotions of boiling anger and a deep depression. He has been hanging around her house, looking like he is not really sure what to do with himself.
But he is grateful that (Y/n) took him in, in the first place and he still can’t understand why she did. It’s better than being at a shady motel.
Occasionally Murphy would help around the house with minor chores; wash the dishes together with (Y/n), he would water the plants and run errands sometimes. But that was after a full week of lying on the sofa and staring at the ceiling.
Then one night everything changed…
“I’m home!” (Y/n) calls when the pulls the front door closed. Usually, she’d get a call back from Murphy, but this time she didn’t hear anything. Strange…
Entering the living room, that’s where she found Murphy in his usual spot on the sofa, staring daggers at the TV. (Y/n) walks around to see what he was watching. It’s the news, a police report.
“Serial Child Predator; Patrick Napier has been apprehended and arrested for the kidnapping and assault of four boys. Officers say that quote “They put him behind bars and make sure he never comes out.” The New reporter announces and shows four pictures of similar-looking boys around the same age as well. (Y/n) could recognize Charlie’s face anywhere.
She’d think Murphy would be glad to hear that the one who killed his son is now in prison where he should rot away. Yet, he looks seething mad, and ready to jump and attack even a mere picture of this Napier guy.
“I finally know where he is…” Murphy hisses through his teeth in anger, kneading the denim of his pants in frustration.
“Huh?” (Y/n) hums in confusion, but when she thinks for a moment it starts to make sense what he means. Even when working at the Cinema together, she knew Murphy as the type to hold a grudge. And now, (Y/n) fears that Murphy is going to take desperate measures.
She doesn’t say anything, for fear of how he will react. She could only fear what was about to become her life-long friend.
~~~~
And it was the next day when it all went south for (Y/n). She didn’t see Murphy in the morning or in the evening of the same day. But the day after when watching the news, there was another police report.
“Last night the police finally caught the man who hijacked a police cruiser and had led a 10-hour chase through the city and neighbouring rural area. The man is 33-year-old Murphy Pendleton who is now arrested and awaiting trial.”
…
(Y/n) could not believe what she hearing, Murphy put himself in prison?!! To act out revenge most likely. She should have stopped him when she had the chance, but she was too much of a coward to do it.
(Y/n) raises her hand to cover her mouth in utter shock.
“Murphy… What have you done?” She mutters, remaining still in her spot to try and process everything.
__________________________________________Hashtag More For Murphy.The ending felt a little rushed in my opinion, but the story is already so long…
Summary: James' other companion, (Y/n) is so attentive and supportive to him it grants him a newfound pinch of hope. That hope grows when she saves his life...
Attention!: Mentions of Blood/Injury, Suicidal Idioligy.
Read at your own risk
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It was that bloody postcard that brought (Y/n) here.
And she had never imagined she would ever patch an injury for a mentally unstable man that she had just met while defending herself from horrible monsters out to get her, or at least to hinder her from getting to her goal. Joining up with James was never the official plan. However, being along with all those monsters is not ideal either.
James doesn't react when (Y/n) cleans the gash on his arm with rubbing alcohol, he is merely lost in his mind, staring blankly into the furthest corner of the dimly lit infirmary.
" you should watch yourself, James." (Y/n) scolds quietly while dressing the wound with bandages, she was lucky to have found some on the desk in this medical room.
"You don't have to do this…" he tries to dismiss his well-being again, which doesn't sit very right with her. "But I want to do this. You took a hit for me, it's customary that I return the favour." She replies with an almost stubborn tone.
The injury is now neatly dressed and (Y/n) whipped James' blood on her trousers, shuffling over to sit next to him. James gingerly pushes his sleeve back down, covering the bandages but there is now a hole in his jacket and shirt.
(Y/n) notices and pulls at a loose string of the torn jacket, "I could fix that for you later." She comments and leans back into the sofa to relax a little. Leaning her head against the back of the sofa and closing her eyes, taking a deep breath.
“You’d do that for me?” James’s voice causes (Y/n) to lift her head and glance at him, offering him a curt grin. “Sure, It’s the least I can do,” she says, It wasn’t a big deal for her, after surviving this nightmare place with this guy she met, watching her back while fighting off those monsters, she is more than happy to help him in the end.
“Thanks…” He mutters, looking a little flustered as he looks away.
The duo remain in a comfortable silence for a moment. Gathering their thoughts,
Then after what felt like a good minute or two, (Y/n) put her hands on her knees and stood up with a huff, stretching her body out once she was on her feet. “Say, I’m not planning to stay here for any longer than I have to. And I think neither do you, Let’s get going.” (Y/n) looks over at the blonde man and reaches her hand out for him to take.
James looks up slowly, inspecting her hand like it’s a foreign object, then lifts his uninjured arm and places his hand in hers, allowing her to pull him up and smile at him once he is on his feet. Despite looking so defeated and exhausted, James does his best to smile back.
~~~~
Exiting the infirmary, the two are back in the dark and rotting hallway of this psychiatric prison. There is not much light, even with James’ torch and (Y/n)’s torch from her digital camera. “What do we do now?” (Y/n) questions while looking around the hall, the lack of light makes her nervous.
“Well, we came from there. Might as well look the other way.” James suggests, and (Y/n) nods in agreement, the duo nearly glued to each other's sides while traversing the darkness, looking for a door that felt the safest to try. Most of the doors are locked, and it feels like the prison itself wants the two to go to a specific place. “Do you still have ammunition, James?” (Y/n) asks, desperately looking for something to break the silence that’s almost eating her alive.
“I’ve got enough. I’m trying to save it for when I really need it.” James agrees that the silence is too loud, he turns to pull on another doorknob, finding it locked. “And you?” He adds. (Y/n) shrugs, “My bullets are plentiful… But just like you, I’m saving them.” she replies, also trying a door and much to her luck, this one opens.
The two enter a room with half of the floor missing. There is only a thin path that leads to the other side of the room, on the other side is another door. “Looks unstable…” (Y/n) comments nervously.
“It should be fine when we’re careful…” James says, moving to step inside the room, (Y/n) eyes James incredulously, “Are you sure?” She asks bewildered. There is no way that both of them are going to make it over that unstable floor. (Y/n) peeks over the edge, deep down below, there is nothing but blackness. (Y/n) swallows the bile that forms in her throat. “Only one way to find out…” She finally agrees to try, James reaches over and gives her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll go first,” He insists, sliding his shoes over what remains of the floor, “Careful James.” (Y/n) warns as she can see the floor wobble in discomfort as James carefully steps over it, slow and well-balanced steps.
A dangerous and painful sounding crack makes him flinch and he speeds his shuffling process up.
Loose pieces give in, breaking away and falling into the dark pit of nothingness.
“James!” (Y/n) panics, watching in horror as the floor starts to crumble. James can manoeuvre around the falling floor and make it to the other side without a scratch.
The gaping blackness swallowed the rest of the remaining floor, and James and (Y/n) got separated. “Are you okay!?” (Y/n) yells with worry. “Yes, I’m fine!” James is quick to reply. The Two are now separated by an endless dark pit, there is no way they could rejoin like this.
“Yo-you keep going, I’ll find another way around.” (Y/n)’s voice weavers, she doesn’t like the idea of being alone right now, in a place like this. James looks like he wants to say something, but ultimately agrees with the terms, “Okay, Take care, (Y/n).” He says and reluctantly turns around to leave the room. His exhausted features saddened, feeling like he is leaving her behind to die. “Yeah, you too. I’ll see you soon!” She tries to smile, giving a little wave and turning around to find another way by herself.
~~Hours Later~~
(Y/n) feels uneasy, the halls seem to go on endlessly. Deeper and deeper into this claustrophobic and seemingly perfect hell. Tormenting (Y/n) with vision of the nasty fights her parents would have, and how it felt like it was her fault. Her father even said it.
There is a tranquil nothing for a moment, Despite it being dark, it’s quiet. That’s better than the monsters that remind her of her father’s aggression towards her mother.
She takes a deep breath, a feeling deep in her gut calms her down, but she knows this is not the end just yet.
Many doors are locked, guiding (Y/n) to the place where she needs to go. Opening the correct door, she is greeted with a sight that nearly makes her heart stop.
James grips the rope of the noose with two hands, and slowly pulls it downwards.
The old rope cracks and groans in resistance, sending a shiver down his spine. The horrible sound numbs his mind, he can't hear the subtle click of something unlocking.
His vision blurs, and all he can see is the vague outline of the noose, Clenching his fists in the rough rope, it almost calls to him.
The permanent solution to a temporary problem…
(Y/n) grows scared the longer she sees James hold on to the noose, it causes her heart to start racing harder than before. She almost doesn't think when walking towards James and gently wraps a hand around his wrist to hopefully take his attention away from the old rope.
James' vision returns when he feels pressure on his wrist. Tender but firm, his gaze turns towards the feeling. There he makes eye contact with (Y/n), everything is still blurry, except for her face, looking upon him with great worry. A new pressure joins his other wrist, semi-forcefully taking his hands away from the most suffocating method of execution.
"James, come on." comes a soft voice. He blinks a few times, both his vision and hearing returning to him. That's when he sees (Y/n), standing right in front of him, holding his wrists firmly. “(Y/n)...” He utters, finally letting go of the rope. (Y/n)’s grip remains on his arms, keeping eye contact with him, grounding him back to this nightmarish reality. “It’s me, James. I found you.” She says hopeful. James almost couldn’t believe it, wringing one of his wrists out of her grasp, lifting his hand to pinch a strand of her hair between his fingers. Yeah, she is real.
James lets go and without thinking, wraps his arms around (Y/n) to hold her close, his face pressed into the fabric of her jacket. (Y/n) does not hesitate to return the embrace, hands rubbing over his back. He could nearly break down completely within the safety of her arms.
Together at least…
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Probably the darkest thing I have written ever. But It’s Silent Hill, so...
I didn’t try to dwell on it too much. But there is a good ending to it.
Summary: One night, (Y/n) doesn’t find Alex in bed next to you. Instead, she finds him in the living room in tears.
(A/n): I like Alex, He's pookie.
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Half asleep, (Y/n) reaches her arm behind her. Usually, the back of her hand will make contact with the short sleeve of his pyjama shirt. But now… Her hand keeps falling until it makes contact with the damp mattress, catching (Y/n) off guard.
Now she is fully awake, turning around to find his side of the bed empty, the sheets hastily thrown aside carelessly.
Alex is nowhere to be found… Where did he go?
(Y/n) Throws the remaining sheets on her off, leaving the bed an unmade mess as she swings her legs off the mattress to get her feet onto the carpeted floor. It’s not cold tonight, nor very warm, but for the case of her own decency, (Y/n) grabs a cardigan to wear over her night clothes, she yawns and leaves the dark bedroom behind to look for Alex.
She highly doubts that he is out by this hour, he should be around here somewhere.
Making her way down the stairs, (Y/n) sees a dim light coming from the living room and she assumes that he is in there. She has yet to find out why he is up at 12:30 in the night.
Slowly moving her way down the stairs and following the light to the living room.
There, on the sofa is where she finds Alex. His back towards her, chocolate brown hair that almost looks completely black in this light, it’s dead quiet. But (Y/n) is sure that he heard her already and knows that she’s here. (Y/n) slowly approaches the sofa, Alex doesn’t move an inch. “I was wondering where you went. What are you doing up?” Her voice is soft, yet it cuts the silence in two. She gets no response from him, sitting perfectly still like a statue.
(Y/n) moves around the sofa to meet his eye, sort of. His light brown eyes trained on an undefined post on the carpet floor. What was most concerning, however, was Alex's glossy eyes, filled with unshed tears. His lips pressed tightly together to keep them from quivering.
(Y/n) quickly slides next to him on the sofa in worry. And when she's seated, Alex promptly looks in the complete opposite direction of her. Not wanting her to see him like this.
While growing up, his father taught both his sons strictly that 'boys don't cry.' To both Joshua and even stricter to Alex.
Alex was left completely of his own accord when it came to his emotions, and feeling unloved by his family he bottled everything up. And even more so when his father almost became physical when he caught Alex crying one time.
But now, free from the oppression and being with someone who loves him regardless of anything, his bottled-up feelings started to tip over.
"What's the matter?" (Y/n)'s gentle voice whisks the silence away, touching his very soul with a tender caress. He stiffens up, shoulders tense. "Are you hurt? Alex?" She softly presses, hand moving over to gingerly rest on his forearm, almost causing him to flinch. God… She is so caring… How could she even still look at him while he is on the brink of bursting into tears, that is a bad thing, right?
(Y/n)'s worry only grows when she receives no answer from the distraught young man next to her. Hand sliding up his arm and resting on his shoulder, her presence is very vivid and Alex is very aware that she's there, he just doesn't want her to see him like this. His head is spinning, usually, he is pretty headstrong about these things, but now it’s just too much. The bottle… or more like bottles are all full, there is no room for more.
Alex blinks slowly, fresh tears cascading down his cheeks and jaw. Aside from the uneven breathing and quiet hiccups, he remains completely silent. Keeping his head away from (Y/n) out of shame.
"Alex…" her hand kneads his shoulder, the gesture causes him to fall apart and bare for all to see and judge.
He can't stop his lip from trembling.
"I…I can't…" his voice is quivering, and he feels so pathetic.
It won't stop, no matter how badly he wants it to, the tears just keep coming without an end in sight. "I can't stop." He grits his teeth, followed by a choked sob. This amount of unchecked sadness, it's almost painful. Squeezing his eyes shut, more hot satl rolls down his skin. Endless tears rushed down all at once…
Alex is sure that (Y/n) hates him now, men are not supposed to be like this, right? Who would even love someone like this? But his body betrays him when Alex is gingerly embraced by her, the completely opposite reaction if what he had expected.
His head comes to rest against her shoulder, he can feel her jaw resting on his head. One arm across his shoulders to keep him close, another is placed on the nape of his neck, occasionally raking her fingers through the short and fluffy hairs there.
It takes a moment for Alex to register what is going on, he truly thought (Y/n) would simply leave upon viewing this side of him. A side he has been trying to keep hidden from all but himself for years.
Instead, he is here, right in her arms where he has secretly prayed he could be for the rest of his life.
The tears have not ceased just yet, and Alex presses his face into her shirt to hide himself from the world, his hushed cries muffled by the thin fabric. (Y/n) presses her own face in his unruly dark hair, lightly placing kisses on his scalp, fingers stroking his hair to comfort him.
After a moment of comfortable silence that was occasionally broken by Alex’s strained sobs and gasps, (Y/n) speaks up again.
“You know… Crying can be good for you sometimes, did you know that? Letting those dreaded feelings out all at once for a moment can make you feel lighter once it’s out. Then you can think again, your heart unclenches, a weight lifted from your shoulders.” She mumbles, not sure if Alex is even listening to her. But it’s something that he needs to know.
Alex’s arms slowly wrap around (Y/n)’s waist, holding onto that feeling of comfort. It could turn to dust if he lets go. A part of him is still convinced that she’ll leave. But she is right here, holding him, whispering comforting words into his ear, pressing kisses to his head.
He doesn’t have to worry about a thing here, it’s perfect.
Alex takes a deep breath, but his throat still feels tight. At least it’s not as painful anymore.
“You’re amazing…” He croaks out, his head a perfect fit right in her neck under her chin. He can hear her hum thoughtfully. “You are amazing too.” She replies, planting another kiss right on his temple, he feels like he’s in heaven. His gut feels fuzzy, he’s is right where he wants to be.
~~~~
The two returned to bed shortly after. Bodies entwined together. Alex’s head resting on (Y/n)’s chest, cheek smudged in her shirt. It’s the best place to be. His arms wrapped around her waist to keep her close. Her hand carded through his hair, messing the dark locks up even more than before.
But he doesn’t care about that.
All he can think about is what (Y/n) has said to him. And it’s true, he does feel a bit better after crying it all out, but he feels that he still has a lot to work though.
One piece at a time.
___________________________________________Hi, my name is Smilex and I like to make Characters cry, thank you all for coming.
Thanks for reading.- Smilex.
I love Laura just going "AHA! I knew she was here!"
I need more of your James please!! ;^;
Omg Yes!
Laura can be cute sometimes, and the Idea of James adopting her is just the wholesomest thing.
I am going to write more for James, and other Silent Hill protagonists too. I am a Murphy Simp myself.
I want the next one to be slightly more angsty with more fluff at the end.
I loved how your latest James fic is so intimate and very hurt/comfort that is my favourite trope of all. I personally don't write smut, I like em fluffy.
If you want me to tag you or something, I can do that.
