Feitan X Reader - Blog Posts

Nicknames they have for you:

Feitan: Doll and doll face. (for some reason I feel like he’d call his s/o ‘little flame’ and ‘my little sun’ in his native language. Darling if they’re someplace formal/undercover or more as a snide/sarcastic nickname to show whose in charge. Brat if they’re being a tease or he’s teasing them. I could also see him saying my pretty little play thing 🤣).

Chrollo: Mi amore, love, dear, darling, sweetheart, my queen/muse/heart/treasure/one and only (very formal and classic names. He might also just look at you and call you irreplaceable)

Phinks: Babe and sweet cheeks

Machi: Just uses your name. (Baby once in a blue moon in private).

Killua: cheeks and babe. (My little light and baby only in private or if one of you is hurt, sick or upset).

Nicknames you have for them:

Feitan: Fei, Killer Queen, hot tamale, love, hunny bun, demon spawn, skull face (honestly I think he gets the worst nicknames given bc his s/o can get away with it). The most common ones they use are love, Fei and Killer Queen.

Chrollo: Lover boy, love and amore. (I feel like Chrollo has a personal hatred for the nickname Babe & Bae because of how casual it sounds. He likes very formal sounding ones but prefers just his name when around others).

Phinks: Babe (sometimes they teasingly call him Mr. Macho).

Machi: Pink cheeks, my little needle, babe (she hates being called baby, it makes her feel less dominant).

Killua: Sparky, sweets, love, babe, baby cakes, kitten, kit kat (if they’re older than Killua I can totally see them calling him hun/honey or baby). The most used ones are definitely Sparky, Kit Kat and Babe.

As always, thank you and lmk if you want thoughts on something or request something!

Do they prefer a younger, older or same age partner:

Feitan: I think he could go any way. He’d enjoy an older partner due to life experience and a more realistic view on life. However I’m leaning to more of a younger partner because there’s something about the naivety and innocence that brings out his curiosity. How far can he push you? Does he want to break the way you think about the world or protect it? The way their vision isn’t tinted with how cruel the world is just crazy to him. He’ll definitely tease you but he is always thinking about your view and coming up with new things to get your opinion on. It’s intriguing to him.

Chrollo: roughly same age. He wants someone whose curious but not naive or necessarily very experienced in life. He’d rather go through life exploring and discovering new things and ideologies with you. Naivety while it might bring a softer spot in Feitan annoys Chrollo quite a bit. He’s the leader of the spiders. He needs you to be realistic (not cynical or overly naive) about the way the world works.

Killua: as a teen I think roughly the same age or a year or two older. If they’re younger he might end up seeing them more like his younger siblings then he feels like a creep. Once he hits his 20s I don’t think he’d care about age.

Thank you for reading! If you have any requests or anything else just lmk!

Would Feitan Ever Leave The Troupe?

Overall I think no, but there are always exceptions aren’t there? I think there would be two he definitely would though.

1. If his partner got murdered or he had to murder them (more likely because of the latter). Depending on how it goes down he would stop altogether or go on a more reckless killing spree.

2. Something breaks him. This is what I think it would be (set a few years after the current arc)

Imagine Feitan has a little girl. Cute, quiet, innocent with big eyes. The perfect mix between his s/o and him. Every time he looks at her he feels undeserving to be her parent. He tries to avoid her at times because of the way she always seems to want him. Want his approval, to babble nonsense and talk about how to get away with murder (I mean common, it’s his daughter 😂). She looks at him like he’s her hero but he's a monster. He knows this. She knows what he is. Who he is. Yet that has never changed her opinion if anything making her more fascinated with him. (He’d probably think something along the lines of ‘Just like her mother, terrible taste in people’)

It would be a random mission. It's not supposed to be anything big. They just needed information. Phinks already has them in the room they think Feitan would prefer. He never knows who he has to torture on missions like this. However, when Feitan walked in he didn't expect this. A little girl his daughter's age, same mannerism, same bright eyes, similar appearance. Similar everything. It was as if she was copied and placed in his torture chambers. It was unnerving.

He tried. He truly did. It never bothered him before. Age, gender, power, etc. He hadn't cared before. He could do it all without a second hesitation. He could feel the frustration seeping in. The little girl was insightful, she told him she was dying and her father was a bad man who hurt people too. She smiled sweetly up at him reassuring him she didn’t hate him, that she understood why he had to do this. She always knew this would happen—it wasn’t a big deal.

At that moment Feitan could feel the crack. He recognized this in his daughter too. Her ability to smile through it all. Knowing who he was and that if anyone found out about their ties she would most likely be tortured and murdered in the worst ways. Yet her refusal to hate him, to still want to be around him, running up to him every time he went home asking what he brought her this time while begging him to play swords with her (‘little brat thinks she’s owed a good life ’). Too curious for her good and not afraid to ask him anything, to run to him for protection and safety. That he was home to not just his s/o but his child that couldn’t defend herself just yet but sure as hell had the spitfire to get there.

The way the little girl told him exactly what he wanted to know on the promise he’d read her favorite book to his daughter. That he’d play her favorite game with her and let her die with “Mr. snuggles” ( an ugly little yellow bear) in her arms. Honestly, he’s not positive what broke. Maybe it was his heart. Maybe his inhumanity.

Either way, Feitan wasn’t the same. Maybe he messed up and let her go. Maybe he killed her. It honestly doesn’t matter. Feitan would never be the same. He would never find the same joy once held in torture and killing as he once did. Something just dissatisfied him and made him uninterested in it. He couldn’t put his finger on the exact emotion but he couldn’t do this anymore.

He saw his daughter in his chair, life in his hands and he broke. He flatly laughed, how ridiculous is this twist of fate. From having nothing to having something he never wanted to be taken away in the ways he’s taken so many.

He didn’t have the heart for it anymore, he knew he couldn’t do this job anymore. One little misstep would cause the others their lives and he wasn’t willing to do a job he knew he wasn’t suited for. It was always a tell. One misstep would lead to another one and another, skills slipping, mistakes left and right, tracks left undone, a mess that would only lead to death (the troupe, his s/o, his daughter, maybe all). He hated messy. He hated not doing something right. He hated that in less than a day his whole ideology had fallen apart. Yet that was the path he was forced to face.

Wordlessly he walked back to the spiders.

“Quite”. Was the only word he said dropping his knives in front of Chrollo.

Chrollo confused accepted his resignation without question. An understanding smile creeped on his lips. The others were pissed. Hurt. Confused. Yelling profanities and threats ensued. Spiders demanding an explanation they’d never get.

He turned around walking out. “Where will you go!” Phinks yelled, slamming a fist into the wall.

Stopping slightly Feitan looked back and for once the troupe could see a hint of a smile. A true genuine smile, “home.”

That was the last time they saw Feitan.

Feitan would never be the same but maybe, just maybe, he was ok with that.

Relationship Headcanons: Feitan

Hey!! Here’s a few things I thought of for Feitan regarding a relationship with his s/o! Sorry the headcanons are not in order! Also my spelling is not the best at 2am, I apologize in advance :) Who should I do next?

What he looks for/wants in a partner | Part 1

I don’t think Feitan would not want his partner to be in the troupe, mafia, hunter, etc. I think out of all the troupe members he’d want the most civilian like s/o. A true sliver of light in his dark world. Someone that only he knows about. It doesn’t mean she is a captive, they can live their own life, do their own thing, have their own friends, etc. He trusts them. They’re his home. Some things are just meant for him to know. So he’s not willingly sharing the information with anyone. Even Chrollo.

He’d probably prefer it if they were an ambivert. More talkative than him. He would want someone more bubbly, naive and a little shyer but not afraid to be blunt and honest. Someone who isn’t afraid to ask questions, talk about anything and everything. (example: if he was talking about torture methods he would ask her thoughts, methods, what ways they’d think is the most painful—very “what if x,y and s happened” or “what do you think would be the most gruesome way to draw out death”. Most of the time he’d try out their methods or critique their process/tell them if it would work or not and why.) He’d love it if they wanted to learn all about torture and how someone could break.

Would love someone who’d love mysteries.

Would love it if they were terrified of thrillers and horror so he can laugh at them all while making fun of them. He also secretly loves it when you cling to him.

Totally wants a touchy s/o. Not heavily pda with others around but when they’re alone it’s all on.

If in public he likes to hold your waist, hand or pinky’s.

He prefers cute over sexy.

Loves freckles. He’s not sure why but that added with a bit of innocence and blonde hair, he’s a goner.

Would secretly melt if his s/o could do puppy dog eyes. Wouldn’t change his mind but he’d think it was cute and funny tactic.

Totally tease and prank each other. Sometimes he goes to far or you do. No matter who messed up he will come to you when he’s ready to communicate.

Communication is hard at times. If you really make him mad he will tell you he had a call for a mission or needs some space and will leave for a while before he does something reckless that he’s gonna regret.

I don’t see his s/o being a true fighter. Feitan likes to be dominant to much for that. However, he would teach you basic self defense and would be willing to mess around with you sword fighting.

His s/o would definitely need to be submissive but not afraid to test the waters and be a bit bratty at times as well. ;)

He would never seriously fight you because he knows he most likely would go to far and kill you. He’d rather avoid his chances.

Would love it if you picked a date to celebrate his birthday. He’s never had one and it would be something special and you might even see a tear.

The best present he ever received from his s/o was a homemade cake. It doesn’t matter if it’s good or not, he has never had anyone show that kind of love and care before so it would be so meaningful to him.

He would like it if you learned his native language. He’d also like if you read to him in yours.

He normally only cuddles at night. Prefers to do it in the dark so you can’t see his face.

Would totally make blanket forts with you.

If he had to leave before you were awake he’d leave you coffee the way you like it, and a little silly note next to your nightstand and kiss your forehead before leaving.

Since he has insomnia he normally just likes watching you sleep and contemplating how he got to this point and if he truly deserves happiness. Also, he loves taking pics of you sleeping. Such a sweet sight, they’re all in a hidden folder on his phone. He often looks at pics of you (generally unflattering) when he’s by himself.

Doesn’t text you much when he’s gone but he generally does say morning and night when he can. Or sends you a photo of something from a different trip he went on.

He totally has an album of photos to send you whenever he has a “thinking of you” or a “I’m alive and should text something” kinda moment.

While he’s not totally happy (and probably never be) he is content with your life together and that’s a win.

Not super materialistic so whatever is his, money, jewelry, goods, etc is yours. He doesn’t expect you to share back though.

Would never hurt you intentionally.

He would never let his s/o watch him or listen to him torture someone. It’s one thing talking about it but when you actually witness it, even if you swear it won’t, Feitan knows it will change their opinion of him. He never wants them to see him as the true monster he is. Not totally. He thinks there’s a time and place where naivety and innocence is acceptable and that’s with his partner.

He wouldn’t punish or torture his partner. There’s just something so much more intimate about torture with his s/o. He doesn’t know or understand why but seeing them hurt isn’t something that pleases him as it usually does. He would want to use knives on his partner but only as a reward and would want them to see it that way as well.

He has his own set of personal knives dedicated only to you. He got you your own set as well to teach you how to properly cut. If his s/o was terrible he’d totally make fun of them.

He would eventually let you cut him as practice. He sees it as mastery in the process. A beautiful work of art because it was done by you.

His “I’m sorry” is never vocal. Normally it’s a hug with a kiss on the forehead and their favorite food or beverage.

I think his s/o would work in the art field. Either an artist, illustrator, writer, coder, or baker. These are jobs where Feitan doesn’t need a true knowledge of English/Japanese but instead can trust his sense of sight and emotions to guide the communication. In addition he sees torture as a form of art so he feels like you’d be able to understand the beauty of different artistry in a way most people couldn’t.

He’d love an inquisitive s/o but one who also knows the time and place. He would love one whose more empathetic and in tune with his emotions, someone who could read him since he’s not the best at communicating his needs.

Love language would probably be acts of service, touch and quality time.

He loves you blow drying and playing with his hair. Honestly he likes to be taken care of but it’s hard for him to show that type of vulnerability most of the time. So for now he’ll stick to his hair being fluffed.

Loves getting you any trinkets that he reminds him of you. Jewelry, a book, clothing, sweets, literally anything that he can carry back for you he would. A habit for every trip. He even brought you sand one time both because he thought it’d be funny and because it was the only thing at the destination.

He wouldn’t keep who he was a secret from his partner. He would be upfront and answer any questions they had. If they had gotten to this point he trusts them with his and his troupes life.

He would warn them areas to stay out of if he knew the troupe or mafia would be around to avoid her getting hurt.

I see him having an s/o that’s independent and dependent. Can do their own thing but loves being around him. A best friend kinda s/o. Probably an s/o with a few friends (2-3) that drops off the face of the earth for long periods of time when communicating with them.

Part of the reason he can never tell the troupe about his partner is because they’d be the one thing he couldn’t lose. Couldn’t kill. Even if she betrayed him he still could not bring himself to kill his s/o.

If his s/o died or was murdered. Feitan would never let another person in again. He would be colder, crueler, more disinterested. To be honest if he could he’d probably just disappear from everyone and everything even the troupe and become a hermit somewhere no one would ever find him.

Feitan would have a list of everything you have ever said you’d wanted to do before you’d die and he would do for you by himself. When he’d complete the list is the only time he let himself cry over you. Feeling only more alone, angrier and emptier than before. A true sense of loss. He thought it would make him feel better and near you. It didn’t.

Regardless if his s/o is dead or alive, He’d have a lock of your hair incased in a ring in the shape of a skull on a chain. Similar to a Victorian mourning jewelry.

You dying would be the only time in Feitan’s life that he would pray to any god willing to hear him. He would do anything to keep you with him and will barter his life or anything else to get there.

He would not let go of your body for days after your demise. He’d be silent. Letting his rage out unexpectedly and wildly. Not caring who dies in the crossfires or the damage done. He honestly doesn’t care if he dies too. However, he vows to keep living because that’s what you would’ve wanted so he refuses to end it all knowing you would be disappointed.

You’re the only person he’s ever even let his mind wander about having kids for just because he thinks your mini me would be the cutest. He’d also have fun teaching the ways of torture so be warned, haha!

He doesn’t understand his emotions a lot of times but he knows that there’s something about you that makes him intoxicated, softer, gentler, protective and loving. He’ll never understand if it’s actually love since he never had felt this before but he figures why stop a good thing that he’s curious to see where it goes.

Loves quirky and authentic.

Feitan and His S/O Headcanon 1: A Sweet Gesture

So normally couples do cute things like get matching tattoos. Feitan and his s/o wouldn’t do this but their own version. They would give eachother matching scars.

The location would be somewhere pretty hidden. The scar itself would be something small. Something you both like or agree on. Probably a little skull with a rose for an eye and a dagger through the head. Something that’s kinda twisted, dark but beautiful. It would be a mark that only their other would see and be reminded of their bond.

Feitan would be masterful and delicately cut on the back of his s/o’s shoulder. It would almost have a sketchy but soft and graceful look to it. He’ll take his time, it will be longer than most of his torture sessions for the troupe because he likes the way it feels to graze you, listen to you gasp and watch your body trying not to flinch from the sudden pressure of the blade breaking deeper into your skin. tbh, you’ll probably get a few extra marks around the scar as well. He figures this is both your punishment and pleasure for getting him riled enough to do this ;)

His S/O would cut into his inner thigh. It would be messy and jagged, not nearly as fine and delicate as his. Sometimes they’d cut to deeply, sometimes not deep enough. It won’t end up as beautiful as his scar to you and while he’d never tell you he loves it. He’ll try to memorize your face as you concentrate or look up at him with big eyes asking if you should continue or if you were doing this right. It would take a while due to your inexperience, there would be little talk except small commands on how you should fix your positioning or if you’re going to deep or not deep enough.

Feitan often traces it when he’s alone on troupe business or just away from you. He likes to remember how shaky you were, so nervous about making a wrong cut even when he guided them. He also remembers your smile at the end; proud, excited but also sheepish to see his reaction. He’d never tell you but he loved it. He loves you both have permanent marks of your love. Visible for both to see. It is one of his favorite memories of both of you. And a constant reminder of you when he can’t be with you.

Overall, Feitan might not be vocal about his love and bond for you but he shows it through his own unique ways.

Feitan and Technology Headcanon

So I keep seeing posts saying Feitan hates technology but I don’t think so. Remember this is the man that was really interested and wanted to steal Greed Island. He already did his research on how to be able to bring more people to the Island before anyone even asked. In addition, he wanted to be the first to play the game (granted he was probably excited to kill people but still).

So I think he actually really likes games. Especially multiplayer shooting/RPG games or horrific ones where he can go up against strong people from the comforts of his own space. He can torture those and show power over them in both the digital and physical world and I think he finds a certain type of appeal in this.

(Also could you imagine the cute game night dates he would have with his s/o? Like him sitting his s/o on his lap and playing whatever game they wanted bc they take turns picking out games they want to try. Really getting into competing against eachother to see who would win with the looser having to do something requested by the winner? It would be super cute! Tbh though you probably wouldn’t win but you sure as hell could try)

Feitan and Chrollo: Would They Sacrifice Themselves For Their S/O

Chrollo: In all honesty, it depends. It depends on who you are, how long you’ve been together, if your a spider, etc. In most cases I will say no, he probably wouldn’t. He has to prioritize the Spider’s and his mission. Rest assured he will get revenge for you and probably shed a tear or two in the meantime. 

Feitan: Without a doubt yes. He would much rather die than see anything, and I mean anything, happen to you. While he does put the Spider’s and the survival of the group first, that rule does not apply to you.  The Spider’s, while he is ‘fond’ of certain members, are replaceable. Even him. However, you are the only irreplaceable person in his life. Hell hath no fury like an angry swordsman. The world will burn before he lets anything happen to you. And if by some chance something does happen to you, he will burn the world and then himself until he sees you again.  

Rush v.

taglist: @queenmimis, @strawberrymango-l3, @dreams-writings, @ally-to-fic-writers

TW: slight nudity, descriptions of anxiety and abandonment issues, veeery slight NSFW implications

“Seriously? You put up a tent?”

He looks at you as if you are kidding, as if you just told him the most ridiculous tale ever. Maybe your wishful thinking slightly overestimated your situation. You know by now, that he’s recognized your intentions, your childlike curiosity regarding him.

“Why we come here? You think I have time for camping?”

Perhaps you messed up. He doesn’t seem mad, but still visibly annoyed. Were you thinking too much into this? Was this a mistake? 

Were you just digging your own grave by doing this?

His hand went to open the door. Blood rushing to your brain. You panicked. I cannot let him leave, that was the only thought left in your mind. Your body acted on its own, fulfilling your only current wish – even if it meant killing you in process.

You grabbed his arm. He did not turn his face to face you. But you could feel his arm muscles tense up under your grip. He was on high alert. It would have taken him only a millisecond to eliminate you if he had seen you as a threat. You were walking on a thin line.

“Please. Wait! Just this night and after that I’ll drive nonstop till we get to Yorknew. I’ll get you there in time for whatever you need to do! I promise-.” 

“Why?”

His question interrupted your shameless begging. No more words were needed. Just that one word sent your brain spiraling.

Why? Why did you want this?

Was it the innocent and dumb childlike curiosity? Was it your strange attraction to him, the darkness within him? Was it the thrill, the boredom of your mundane life that led you to slowly become attached to the idea of this man?

You truly had no idea.

“Why… I- I don’t know…”

You were confused, stuck in a trance surrounded by your own thoughts. Your hand slowly slipping off his arm, you felt sudden surge of weakness. Head feeling heavy, black dots dancing in your field view. Endless thoughts ceased as the darkness enveloped you whole. Your exhausted body fell in his lap.

The sound of fire cracking fills your ears as you slowly wake up. Struggling to open eyes, you can tell you sobbed slightly, your eyelashes feel glued together. Warmth enveloped your body, you are comfortably laying in the sleeping bag inside the tent. 

It takes you a while to realize how you got here. You passed out in midst of your conversation with Feitan, if it can even be called a conversation. It’s no wonder, you’ve been driving while being under constant stress for days now. It was only a matter of time for you to collapse. 

Judging by the dark outside, you must have slept for quite a while. It takes only a second for you to start to panic. The realization hit you hard, set the blood in your veins ablaze. You felt your heartbeat echo in your ears.

Feitan… Where is he? Did he leave you here?

You stumbled out of the sleeping bag, ran out of the tent. There was no one. Nothing but the fire quietly cracking by your feet, water running in the distance. Trees and dark as far as you could see. No sign of him other than the tent and fire being made. Taking a quick turn, you find your car to be still here. Yet that could mean nothing when it comes to his presence. He was ready to leave you on foot.

“Feitan…?”

Your voice is weak. You are scared.

“Feitan!”

This time you scream into the darkness. But the darkness holds no answer to you. It’s too quiet. It’s all too quiet. You want to cry.

Looking around frantically, you decide to run along the stream of river naively hoping to find him. Crying his name out to the forest as you rushed, looking around at all that was surrounding you. You felt like a lost child. In a sense, you were one. You already lost your way back. While in distress, you lacked any sense of direction.

Tired and out of breath, you fell to your knees. At this point you were bawling your eyes out while struggling to breathe. You were seeing black again. You wanted to scream and cry to the maximum of your lungs’ capacity.

“Boo.”

You scream and tumble forward as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Feeling your heart almost escape your chest, you fall on your back into the small stream. It’s barely to your knees’ length, but enough to submerge your whole body when laying down. The pain echoes in your lower body. You fell on some large stones. The wet clothes stick to your body and weigh you down, you shiver violently.

Looking up above you, you see Feitan snickering at your reaction. He’s missing his top. Pants rolled up to his knees, legs and hands still slightly wet. He’s holding two freshly catched fishes in one hand with his boots tucked under his arm. His other hand is extending to you to help you up.

“I thought you left me,” you say shakily while still sobbing.

“Waited for you to wake up. Sleep too long, went to catch dinner,” he says calmly motioning to show you the fish.

You are not sure if you are seeing things right, but you feel like he does feel a tiny bit bad for scaring you half to death just now.

“Let’s go. No want for you to get sick.”

While saying that last part, he looks away with a small and almost unnoticeable blush on his face. You take his hand as he drags you out of water. The cold air hits you right away, you almost hiss in response. Not getting sick in this state will be hard. His hand in contrary is warm, his body is oozing warmth. You wish you could steal some of his body heath but that would be asking for too much. Though he is the reason you ended up like this in the first place.

You can feel your teeth unwillingly clattering from cold on the way back to your camp. Tightly wrapping your arms around you, the water is still pouring down from you every time you squeeze your clothes. Just simply hearing the sound of firewood cracking lifts your spirits. You squat down to it and get yourself comfortable while still conserving your remaining body heat. 

The fire’s helping but not by a lot. It’s the end of the August, nights are beginning to feel colder and colder as the summer is ending. 

“Take of your clothes.”

His voice disturbs you from your thoughts. You immediately stop shivering from the shock.

“W-what?”

“Your clothes wet. Off.”

You are slowly beginning to understand. You open your mouth to speak but are interrupted.

“Here,” he says as he throws his cloak-like top to your side.

Even though you should remind him that you have a whole suitcase of clothes in your car, you feel like you cannot. This is a pure gesture of his kindness towards you, it was unlike anything he had done for you till now. This didn’t benefit him even a bit, this was simply something he did for only your own benefit. 

You are too cold to tell if you are blushing or not.

“Can you… Maybe turn around,” you say while he is still awkwardly staring at you when you take his clothes into your hands, “please?”

Without words he quickly turns around, goes further away making a distance between the two of you and starts preparing the fish. You feel quite uneasy stripping yourself off clothes in an open area with someone just few meters away from you. The wet clothes are hard to shed, the fabric gets stuck on your naked skin – it’s heavy and hard, burns when you try to force it off. You leave your underwear on even though it’s drenched like the rest of your clothes. After all it feels weird to be completely bare under his clothes in the middle of a forest. Such a bizarre and specific situation. You hope underwear won’t make any wet stains on his clothes – just like clothes with wet swimsuits underneath during summer. 

His clothes are a lot shorter on your body, but it at least covers everything it has to. Though it may look like a shorter dress. It makes you blush. The fabric still holds his warmth. While putting it on, you noticed the seams to be quite messy. Perhaps it was handsewn by him?

“Thank you… It’s okay to turn around now.”

He tensed up, stopped in his actions – he was gutting the fish. Steadily turning around, he tried to hide his slight blush but that small change in his cold behavior didn’t escape you. He stared at you for an awkward while, then got up and put the gutted trouts on fire. You still felt quite cold, you tried hard to hide your shivering to please him. Hugging your knees, you sat by the fire watching the fish sizzle as it burned, trying to warm yourself up. His clothes simply weren’t enough for a cold late August night.

“I’m sorry,” you said weekly, trying to stop yourself from sobbing again.

“What for?”

“I’m sorry for being such a trouble to you. I was just supposed to drive you to Yorknew and now I forced you to go camping with me,” you finished off fully sobbing.

“Ridiculous. I do what I want. If I camping, I want to go camping. Simple.”

You tried hard to hold your sobs, holding the snot in your nose. You hated being consoled like this.

“Now stop crying or I give you real reason to cry,” he said slightly having lost patience over your state. He put the trout off the fire, handing one to you.

“Remember nails? Cry more and I take your tongue,” saying so he flexed his hand, sharp nails coming out like cat claws.

You forcibly smiled and laughed it off disguising your last sobs as laughter. You thought he was joking. But was he really? Only he knew the substantiality of his threats. After all you had no idea who he truly was. 

The fish was bland and a little bit charred, it was only the pure hunger that forced it down your throat. You ate in silence, surrounded only by the sound of fire cracking, water splashing. Yet the atmosphere was light, not tense even a bit. You both felt more comfortable around each other with every second passing. You were sure that if soulmates were real, tied together with a red string, then you two were connected. Tangled in each other, being pulled closer and closer by fate. 

“Go to sleep. Tomorrow you drive, no stops,” he said strictly tossing out the fish bones to the fire. 

Tomorrow might be the last day you get to spend with him. You had a bad feeling that the clock was ticking and you two were to be swiftly separated and returned to each of your lives, different worlds, destined to never cross paths again. No matter how irrational it may have seemed to be sure of something so uncertain such as fate, deep inside you - you knew what was true. 

Without a thought you went to the tent, climbed inside your sleeping bag trying to find rest on the hard stony ground. Then it dawned on you, you still had his clothes. Even though you had a suitcase full off spare clothes you had packed, you were occupying his only bigger piece of clothing, He was still half naked, out in the night and most likely cold. He did not follow you into the tent, there was only one sleeping bag. You felt ashamed to have forgotten that. 

“Hey… Feitan?” you called out to him shyly. 

“Mhm?”

“Are you not cold?”

“A little,” he admits not thinking much of it. He knows, he’s been through worse than a little cold. 

“I can give you your clothes back-.” 

“No,” he interrupts you abruptly, “no want you to get sick.”

You couldn’t believe what you were about to say. 

“I feel a little cold too… So maybe,” you took a deep breath, “maybe you could come over here and lay with me inside the sleeping bag?” 

You practically blurted out the last bit of your sentence. Feeling incredibly embarrassed, you started biting your lower lip nervously. Were you too forward? Was this over the line?

“Seriously?”

“Yes… Please,” you said as your voice was practically trembling, “Feitan…”

His breath hitched the moment he heard you say his name like that. You were begging, you desperately wanted to feel the heat of his skin. To feel that he is real and right next to you, to feel that he isn’t going anywhere tonight. Yes, you were cold, but there was something more way beyond that.

He got up, his movement was slow and ragged like he was trying to control himself - holding back from doing something more to you. Slipping into the tent, his face was firm. Brows deeply furrowed, teeth clenched. You were inviting a beast to lay with you and god help you if he lost control. 

“You trust me? You trust I do nothing to you?” he knelt down to you as he questioned your conviction. Your eyes met, you saw that deep longing, the darkness that entwined it – as deep as a bottomless well. You were not afraid. 

You said nothing in return, you had no idea what to say. Simply moving to the side of the sleeping bag, you created a space for him to fit next to you. Feitan smiled, it was a simple smile – a smile that seemingly meant nothing but also everything at once. He slid into the sleeping bag. It was a tight fit, you were straining just to simply not breach his personal space. The heat radiating off him, the human warmth, felt incredibly alluring to you. So much so, that it pained you to keep your distance. 

Firewood cracking lulled you into sleep. As your consciousness slipped, your body gave up on resisting the magnetism that pulled you two together. You fell into his arms. Feitan did not sleep a bit that night. 

Rush iv.

taglist: @queenmimis, @strawberrycheescake3, @dreams-writings

TW: mentions of blood, murder implications, description of nudity, very slight NSFW implications

His raspy voice tickles your ear. You can almost feel his breath on your skin. Closing your eyes shut as tightly as possible, you try to ignore him and continue pretending to be asleep. Although you know it’s futile, there’s nothing else you can do. You can hear your heart up to your mouth and as of now you could even swear that it’s even louder than the noise coming from the neighboring room. 

He hears it as well, yet he does not pursue any more conversation. You hear him scoff at your pathetic form. The sheets rustle, weight shifts on the mattress. Sighing in relief, your muscles relax slightly. Feitan got off the bed, leaving you alone despite having you completely in his grasp. 

His footsteps lead to the old loveseat laying across from the bed. You wonder if he managed to clothe himself when he exited the shower, after all you never heard him put on his clothes or even a towel. His body drops as he gets comfortable on the small weathered down couch. You know he’s still watching you, his eyes not leaving an inch of your body for even a millisecond. 

Discomfort pools over you after feeling stuck in an uncomfortable position. Your mind forbids you from moving, any suspicious movement could cost you either your life or dignity after having to admit that you did indeed just watched him shower. The image returns to your mind.

Was it really blood running down his body?

You do already realize that he is a sketchy individual, but would he really be capable of murdering someone? You’ve never met somebody like that, it feels like fantasy to you – a world that has always been too far out of reach to even seem real. Would you be even able to tell is someone was a murderer?  If he really is a ruthless killer like those you’ve been always hearing of in the media, then why are you still alive? You offer no worth to him. It seems too bizarre to you for him to be a killer. What are the chances?

“Sleep. Long drive tomorrow,” Feitan says calmly, sighing at your nervous form.

Taking the risk, you make yourself comfortable. You do not know if his words mean to mock you or comfort you.  With his voice almost having a soothing effect on you, your mind slowly drifts away as you fall asleep.

The sun, warm on your face, lines your features. Your body feels light as a feather, consciousness returning slowly back to you. A light touch of a hand tickles your cheek. It’s gentle, barely there – you yourself cannot even tell in this state, whether it’s real at all. 

Slowly stretching your body, your mind becomes clear. Whatever your dreams were, you cannot tell, nor does it matter but you’ve never slept so peacefully in your whole life. Which is a surprise in itself with your current situation.

You know you shouldn’t trust this man. Yet your mind and body, your whole existence, cannot deny that you’ve never felt this at peace in an unknown place, not even in the comfort of your own room. 

Yawning, you try to open your eyes even though it feels like your eyelids have been glued together with the remaining mascara from yesterday’s makeup. Images from the last night seem bizarre to you, almost unreal. Were they even real in the first place or just a figment of your imagination fueled by immense exhaustion? You were barely awake at that moment, it could’ve been simply your fears manifesting in a hyper-realistic dream. Yes, it most likely was only a dream formed out of your paranoia. 

Your vision sharpens as you become fully awake. You see Feitan settled down in the loveseat, watching you carefully as if waiting for the exact moment when you would wake up. Although you feel slightly weirded out about him watching you sleep, you cannot complain, judging by the sun filling the room, you have slept till the afternoon. 

You lift yourself up and lean back on your elbows getting a better look at him. Fully clothed up with his usual attire, half of his face already covered. The only thing you can see is the baggy clothes hiding his built body, freshly washed hair styled with gel and those piercing cold eyes. Though you could swear that they seem somewhat softer now. 

“You sleep long,” he simply states with no emotion whatsoever. 

“You should’ve woken me up. I slept surprisingly well after having some weird dreams,” you answered, yawning in between the sentences.

“What dreams? Elaborate.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks remembering what you’ve dreamed about. The harsh stream of water, tiny droplets lining his muscles, that pure hot animalistic rage, the strong grip in his fist, long heaving breaths. The more you thought about it, the redder your face became.

“You know what? It’s a… It’s a bit embarrassing so forget it, okay?” the panicked words escape your mouth. You cannot even look at him properly after this. 

Feitan simply lets out a small chuckle, almost unnoticeable if it weren’t for the quiet room. Quiet to the point that it threw you off for a moment, but you simply discarded that thought. Yesterday the walls seemed paper-thin, yet today you cannot hear any noise from neighboring rooms, from the hallway. No one talking, no one moving around. Almost as if the whole place has been deserted. Perhaps people only stay here for one night only and leave early in the morning?

He points at the night table next to your right.

“Breakfast for you, packed for the road too.”

You can’t discern, whether he did this gesture out of simple annoyance for you stalling him for so long or if this was supposed be purely a nice gesture out of his own goodwill. Though you have yet to find out if he has any, after all your little road trip started with several threats to your life. 

The night table to your right is filled with several simple meat sandwiches and bottled water. You can tell by the weird combination of the fillings that this is probably not something he bought but actually made himself. The thought itself warms your heart.

“…You actually made these just for me?”

“No.”

You freeze in your actions, just about to take a bite. What did he just say?

“Huh…?”

“I no eat something someone else touched.”

“Oh. Is that so,” you take a bite of the sandwich, no longer impressed or expecting something. Of course, he didn’t just make sandwiches out of scratch just for you. What were you even thinking? In what world would this cold stranger you just met, make sandwiches just to simply please you? Afterall, your encounter with him started with his nails threatening to slit your throat, continued with his katana begging to the same. You’ve started feeling too relaxed around him, forgetting that he is dangerous.

Or perhaps maybe… You just didn’t care anymore?

Is this the thrill you’ve been seeking when you ran away from home?

“Finish eating and we checkout. Leave the keys in the room and leave.”

It didn’t feel like a suggestion. It was more of a command. That was what he told you to do and you felt obligated so. Though it did feel slightly unusual to you, yet your mind assured you that he must be right. After all, he did seem to have some sort of connection with the receptionist. The more you thought about it, the more normal, the more casual it seemed to you. You could almost swear you’ve checked out of a room like this at least once before. 

Doesn’t matter that this is a small private motel. Surely, they keep extra keys for a private checkout like this, right?

Forcing yourself to finish the sandwich – even though the filling combination made the taste quite unpleasant, you packed up and prepared to leave. The inconsistency, the suspicion, the paranoia you felt before – it didn’t matter to you anymore. The sun shone brightly filling the room, freshly made bed, the small indents in the loveseat where he sat and the small crumbs you have left on the bedsheets. 

You didn’t want to think about any of it anymore. No matter how irrational it may have seemed. You wanted to throw all of it behind. To forget those thoughts. To forget reason. Something in you just wanted you to follow him. 

And you did so. 

Through the eerily empty hallways, deserted reception with weird smell of ethanol. All the way back to your lazily parked car from yesterday. Fresh air brushed against your skin, sun warming your face and your hand on the car keys.

“Shall we go now?”

Surprised by your sudden surge of energy, he simply nodded and followed you into your car. After spending the night with him, you felt much more relaxed in his presence. You were sure of one thing. If he wanted to hurt you, he would’ve already done so, he certainly had many opportunities. 

Setting up the navigation again, you notice that you may have slightly overestimated how long your journey to Yorknew was going to be. You still have a few nights you’ll have to make a stop for, but if the road is pleasant, you can shorten the estimated duration by few hours. However, you weren’t exactly sure if you felt happy about that. It felt like you finally found what you’ve been searching for ever since you left your home, your family.

Wordlessly, you turned on the engine and backed out of the parking spot. You were confused by your own feelings. Feeling like you couldn’t think about any of it anymore, you turned your attention to the road. There was a spot you’ve been wanting to see for a while now – it was relatively on the road, well, at least you knew you could make it be on the road. All it would take is just few bad turns.

Feitan, of course, noticed the continuous change in your behavior and your stance to him. Wondering what caused the change inside you, seemed utterly useless to him. The answer in his mind was simple. You, in your core – deep down, were in fact deranged, out of your mind, just like him. Forced to not act out due to society’s standards, you were attempting to escape and set yourself free of those binds. 

But there was still something that separated the two of you. You were still so pure, so pristine. So easy for him to shape you to his standards. He found it almost entertaining to watch you, choosing to enable you to unfold, he did not budge when you clumsily lied about your sense of direction being bad while you made those wrong turns, purposely changing the route to a longer one.

You ate while you drove, determined to make the stop there tonight. Surprisingly Feitan was kind enough to pass you one of the sandwiches when you asked. You are not sure, why you thought that he would be meaner about it. He simply scoffed but listened to you. You were slightly disappointed, you found his mean side to be one of his charms.

Exiting the highway, you turned left next and were met with your destination. A small forest opening surrounded the dirt road. You were glad to find no other cars in your vicinity, though you still weren’t sure why you wanted to be alone with him. 

Along the forest road ran a quiet clean river. It led to a small natural swim pond topped with a beautiful waterfall. When you chose to drive here, you weren’t sure it was even real. It was simply something you had read of years ago. Back then the pictures made it look like it was ripped out of a fairytale. 

Your fairytale turned out to be real.

“We’ll stop here for the night, we can get cleaned in the pond. I have a tent and a sleeping bag as well, so we’ll be fine.”

Wait. Thinking back on it – you only had one sleeping bag!

Rush iii.

^*^taglist: @queenmimis

TW: mentions of blood, murder implications, torture implications, description of nudity, NSFW implications

Hours pass and the monotonous scenery of the highway is slowly biting away at your sanity. Keeping a close eye on the right side of the road, you spot the small motel conjoined with a gas station that you were looking for. Slowing down, you turn and enter the driveway. You lazily park your car not even bothering to reverse park to ease it for yourself in the morning. Turning to the passenger seat, you already see him looking at you, not even half tired as you are. Hand firmly holding his umbrella as a sign of his ongoing threat to you.

Sighing, you exit your car. You were too tired to care about your own life and safety, your body felt light and head heavy. He gets out along with you while not making a single sound. You try to keep a mental note of that, he might one day suddenly appear behind your back, ready to strike and you won’t even know it. Though from your current impressions, you don’t think he would kill you quickly. There’s something in the back of your head telling you that he would enjoy the process rather than the outcome. Hence his long game with you right now, he could’ve killed you and took your car already back at that station. Despite that, he still chose to play with you.

You open your trunk, quickly move some clothes and toiletries from your suitcase to your backpack. Turning back, you jump a little bit. He’s already behind your back examining the contents of your suitcase. Going red in the face, you immediately slap the trunk down knowing that your underwear was clearly visible – including your silly prints and several spicy pieces. You cannot even dare yourself to look back at him from your embarrassment.

“Was checking for weapons,” he explains with a hint of amusement in his voice. Is it really just your own mind right now that is being so dirty?

Nervously humming back in response, you turn around and head to the motel entrance. Even though you don’t hear him walk, you know he’s right behind you following you like your own shadow. You’ve never been a loud walker yourself; you know that for someone to walk and move like him, there must’ve been special circumstances, that require such habits. The more you think about him, trying to analyze him, the more wary you become of him. 

You enter the motel, smell of old furniture filling your nose. Beneath your feet an old-style wine-red carpet floor, its color tries miserably to hide the stains. The walls are covered by dark magnolia wood, few road-themed picture hanging sporadically. Lights barely light up the dim hall. At its end stands a shiny black circular reception desk littered with fingerprints here and there. An old man sits behind the desk, wrinkles weighing his face down and judgmental eyes staring you two down. Getting closer, you can see his half-filled crossword puzzle. His simple head movement beckons you to speak.

“Hello, do you have any rooms available for one night, please?” 

Your voice sounds desperate, looking like you are the brink of complete exhaustion, you hope to ignite some sort of sympathy towards you. However, you do not think of alerting him of the possible danger behind you. Whatever you would do, he would notice it even before you thought of it. You already know that you two would not stand a chance against him, might as well spare another poor soul.

The receptionist clicks his tongue and puts away his magazine pulling out a thick old notebook covered in bright red leather casing instead. After listing for a while, he looks back at you, looks back down and pulls out a rusty room key.

“Room 44, payment up front in cash. Be gone by 10 in the morning. Breakfast after 7, not included in the final price.”

Pulling out your wallet, you slowly realize that you left all your cash back at the gas station. You resist the urge to curse. Awkwardly looking back and front, the receptionist’s stern face does not change.

“Is there an ATM here somewhere?”

“Out in the back.”

Looking back at Feitan, you quickly tell him to wait just in case anyone comes in and takes potentially the last empty room. Although, you are not completely sure if leaving the receptionist with Feitan is a good idea. You use the last of your energy to run out, the light guides you to a bright shining ATM. Hoping there’s enough money left, you slide in your card. 

“No need.”

You turn around, seeing Feitan appear behind your back with his cold and nonchalant look as usual. His hands in his pockets, you watch the cloak outline his body with streetlight highlighting every crinkle, every curve. Your heart skips a beat, cold air brushes against your sweating skin. His hair frames the sides of his face, slightly less wild and spiky unlike before – you notice. 

“What..? What do you mean ‘no need’?” 

Your voice comes out as weak and confused. Feeling like a sheep before a slaughter, you take a step back. His eyes narrow, brows furrow. Lowering his head, he analyzes you intently. 

“Reception guy – an old friend,” he coldly states without any emotion in his voice, his eyes having seemingly darker shade than you remember. He does not talk with any sort of emotion someone would normally use when talking about an old friend of theirs, he sounds slightly annoyed instead. 

He pulls out the room 44 key out of his pocket as well as with something that looks like a check to convince you he did not steal the key. He comes in closer, you have nowhere to move – standing sandwiched between the ATM and Feitan. Your hands hover before your body as if that would help you against him. With his face centimeters away from yours, you feel something land in your hands. Handing you the keys, he steps away and his eyes smile at you, at least you think that is what he is doing. Smiling. You cannot guess his expression correctly through his bandana covering half of his face. 

“Okay… I’ll still withdraw some money just in case,” you say as you reluctantly turn around to finish the transaction. You are pleasantly surprised to find out you still have quite the sum of money on your card. Choosing the withdraw half of it in case of an emergency, you turn around to face him. He was patiently waiting behind you the whole time. And now, in turn, you are the one following him back inside. 

You see the back of the receptionist’s head peeking from behind the counter, he seems to be lost in his crossword puzzle again. Perhaps they really were old friends? Surely, he wouldn’t just be calmly sitting there if he was threatened. 

“Ah… He-p...!” the receptionist groans in pain trying to move his head in a ragged motion.

Feitan steps closer to him, pats him on the back while laughing.

“Yes, nine-word inflammatory disease on H – hepatitis.”

“Ah-aaa-h.”

Feitan returns back to you, his eyes telling you ‘told you so’. Yet you cannot shake away this bad feeling you have, which says that something isn’t adding up. The both of them didn’t seem to recognize each other when you stepped in the first time. But now he is simply acting like he is helping his good old friend with a crossword puzzle. Maybe you are simply just overreacting, the exhaustion is taking a toll on your senses. 

He leads you to the old elevator. You think of running but your plans are immediately ruined when he insists that you get in the elevator first. Despite the situation you feel less and less inclined to run from him the more time you spend together. Without any more thoughts you stand in the corner the furthest from him while he presses the number on the keypad. It’s the top floor. 

Turning around, you notice your own face in the mirror. Looking like you’ve seen better day, no wonder you don’t feel like running. If somebody saw you two, they would think that you are the dangerous one. Smudged makeup almost blends in with the large violet eyebags adorning your eyes. Your hair is a frizzy mess. Seeing yourself just now, you feel like you just want to hide away from the eyes of others. You try to smooth down your hair a little.

The sound of the elevator stopping tears you away from your thoughts. You have bigger things to worry about other than your looks right now. You get out with Feitan, following him to your room. It’s on the end of the hall. You’ll finally get a chance to sleep, to get yourself together and figure out the next course of action. 

Room 44. You use the keys he gave you and try to open the door. It’s old and seemingly stuck. The rust on the handle scratches the palm of your hand as you try to force it open. He lets you fiddle with it for a while before his patience runs out, then pushing you out of the way, he simply opens it as if it was never stuck to begin with.

As you walk in, the first thing you see is a double bed with a single big blanket crammed in the small room. In front of it is a small old loveseat with a faded out rose pattern. To the right side of the bed leads a door to the bathroom with a shower situated right as you walk in. On the left side of the bed, there are two windows, both with a lock on them. Strangely enough, you were given only one key from Feitan. 

“So, uhm, who gets the bed?”

“Got work to do,” he answers instead in return and before you know it, he’s already gone together with the singular key you held onto few seconds before. Well, first comes, first served, you say to yourself. You throw your backpack on the bed and search for your pajamas along with the hygiene products. Heading into the bathroom for a quick shower, you notice that the bathroom door doesn’t close fully. It’s your only luck that he went out so quickly, otherwise you wouldn’t get to shower. Hell, you would’ve been even more reluctant to just change into your pajama or simply do your business on the toilet. 

You shower as quickly as humanely possible, you’d like to not remain naked and vulnerable for a long amount of time, when you do not know, when he comes back. After washing your face and brushing your teeth, you feel much more comfortable in your own skin. Collapsing into the old creaking bed, you wrap yourself into the blanket. Slowly drifting into sleep, you forget all about your worries. 

Muffled moaning from the neighboring room wakes you up. Still half asleep, you stretch your legs feeling your ankle bones crack. You turn to the other side facing the bathroom door as more of your consciousness comes to you. The slapping of skin, high pitched moans and whines coming from the other room now seem louder to you. 

But there is another sound. The sound of the shower running.

The bathroom door is fully opened, hanging from its hinges. Your gaze focuses. You see Feitan standing under the harsh flow of water. His back turned to you, he leans on hand, nails scratching the tiles. Droplets of water and something else, something dark – brownish red, trace his tensed-up muscles. Head hanging loosely, covered by his long raven hair. 

You are not sure if you are still dreaming.

His breaths are deep and long like he’s trying to calm down. You notice that his bandages are down. Is it blood running down his clenched fists, muscular arms, shaped torso and strong legs? Is it his own? Or perhaps someone else’s? You should be horrified. Yet, here you are, in a stage between dream and reality and your only thought is that the man before you is hauntingly beautiful. 

Deep down you know the truth, but you don’t want to put the puzzle pieces together. You don’t want to realize; your subconsciousness doesn’t want you to realize in a struggle to protect your own mind and sanity as a last resort to prevent you from breaking down.

His head twitches and your eyes meet. You immediately come back to reality. Your heartrate speeding up as soon as you realize the danger. Closing your eyes shut, you pretend to be asleep.  The water stops running, moans from the other room intensify and fill the silence. He does not bother to be quiet, he walks in a way so that you could hear him on purpose.

You feel the weight shift on the mattress. Sheets rustle. A small drop of water from his hair falls on your cheek.

“I know you awake.”

Rush ii.

He does not flinch while you disinfect his wound. There’s no reaction. Normally you’d expect a person to hiss in pain at the uncomfortable stinging sensation created by the alcohol cleansing the wound. But he does not react, he does not move. It’s almost as if he doesn’t feel any of it at all. Staring at your hands moving, his eyes seem incredibly emotionless, almost lifeless. He doesn’t seem to be at all alarmed at the severity of his wounds. You wonder would his face be the same even if he was bleeding out on the ground? 

You should be running for your life. But instead here you are – treating the wounds of a potentially dangerous stranger. Yet you cannot ignore someone in such state, your naïve kindness forces you to stay and act. The air is heavy and you are sweating uncontrollably, but you feel so cold from his gaze trying to not shiver while you can almost feel his breath against your skin. If not a mere lunatic, perhaps actually a murderer. You try to not think about his answer to when you asked who caused these wounds. 

Moving closer to pull the bandage over the torso, you try to clear your mind of such panicked thoughts. His eyes are now glued to your face, studying it almost religiously while trying to find out every secret your eyes hide. You notice his body become stiffer  as your arms envelop him and bring the bandage up to the front through his back. Stepping away, you avert your gaze to the ground, perhaps feeling a bit guilty for having breached his personal space a bit. Not like he didn’t do the same thing to you the moment you stepped in here.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you I was going to get closer,” you apologize not wanting to upset him and possibly compromising your own life. After all, he’s clearly stronger than you. No matter his injuries, you feel that he’s the one in control. 

“No care,” he simply answered, ripped the bandage roll from your hands and finished the job, ”I faster.”

“Oh.”

“And better,” he added and you immediately went red in the face.

Why did he let you do all of that then? Dumbfounded and confused, you just freeze up with your hands in the air as they were previously holding the bandages. True to his words, he quickly corrects your mistakes and dresses the rest of the wounds up by himself. Was there perhaps something more to his lifeless gaze when you were bandaging him up? Maybe a little hint of mischief and enjoyment he saw when you made a fool of yourself in front of him.

“Then why…” shame and slight annoyance mix in your voice.

“Fun watching you,” he says with a malicious grin forming on his face. You swear you’d punch him if he wasn’t injured and possibly dangerous. Feeling your eyes sting and slightly water, you avoid eye contact. Rather not risking your fate, you clench your fists behind your back, digging nails into your skill. The pain calms you a little.

“Okay,” you take a deep breath in in an attempt to steady your voice, “Then I’ll be on my way if I’m not needed.”

Struggling to even look back at him after you’ve just been ridiculed by trying to even help him, you turn on your heel to leave the bathroom. As you grab the door handle, you feel a stronger force push you back. The door opens, hitting your head you stumble back in confusion.

Ah, you remember, these were the men’s toilettes.

A hunk of a man is staring back at you in bewilderment. His large build and weathered face exudes slightly more fear in you than the smaller bloodied lunatic who messed with you a second ago. There’s something more threatening about a man that’s twice your size than a guy you tower over by at least a head even if he’s completely covered in mud and wounds.

“What’s a pretty looking thing like you doing in here?”

You feel disgusted by his words almost instantaneously. These kinds of men never mean something good behind those sly backhanded compliments. Feitan behind you simply laughs at your misfortune, although it’s more of a cackle. Turning your head even more to ground, almost hunching over, you quickly collect yourself not daring to look at any of them.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry…” you run out face covered with hands not sure if you want to scream or cry. 

“Did I interrupt something?” you hear the guy say behind your back. The connotations make you feel even more mortified. You do not hear Feitan’s answer to his question, if he even answered, you do not wish to hear it. Slapping last of your money on the counter for the first aid kit, you run out not even bothering to wait for your change. You felt like your heart couldn’t stand being there even a minute longer, hearing any more sound.

The image of the shirtless injured man you just met, Feitan, with you trying to dress his wounds morphs into something way more inappropriate in your head. Your hands around his muscular torso, his eyes glued to your face, both of your bodies leaving almost no space for god. His quiet warm breath on your skin. 

Your cheeks burn as you are hit with the outside air. The smell of gasoline fills your nostrils. Yes – you can still escape from here, you have your beloved junk of a car. You can pretend this never happened, maybe you’ll sometimes visit the scene in your dreams with a slightly different outcome but no one has to know any of that. It’s not like you have anyone to tell but you can still get far away from here. Far and further from today’s mess up. 

You swear in your head to be a better person, to never accidentally run someone over and to never look like a creep in the wrong bathroom. Sure, your circumstances would pardon the whole awkward situation but you weren’t thinking straight, your judgement was clouded by adrenaline, by Feitan.

This wasn’t you, you were acting abnormally. Usually, you would at least try to rationally explain the situation.  It felt like meeting him awakened something within you. Or maybe you’ve been away from people for too long, forgetting how to act like a normal functioning adult. 

Running into your car you slid down and relaxed yourself on the driver’s seat, leather sticking to your sweaty exposed skin. You felt like your heart is going to escape the enclosure of your ribcage. The whole world was spinning before your eyes, not having drunk enough water as usual you felt like you were on the verge of passing out. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath in and out.

“Fuck!” screaming at the top of your lungs in frustration, you threw your hands over the steering wheel. Surpassing the urge to cry you stick the car keys in and start the engine.

It will all be better, you tell yourself, you just need to get away and forget. 

“Going somewhere?”

Screaming at the top of your lungs you hug your chest defensively and throw yourself on the card door hitting your head in process. Feitan, who’s just casually sitting in the passenger seat stares you down. Now fully clothed in black leather, face covered by his shawl – although you could tell by his eyes that he was enjoying your fear and bewilderment he caused like a gourmet dish. His sadistic nature becomes more evident, escaping the enclosure of his beautifully sculpted face and body. 

“What are you doing in my car?” you screamed at him panicked, sweat rolling down your temples.

He simply lets out a small chuckle and slowly pulls out his blade. You can almost see your reflection on his freakishly clean and sharp katana, its handle looks like a part of an umbrella. His fingers slide across its surface with a level of artistic precision, long nails trace the edge. If you didn’t feel enough threatened when he had you pinned against the wall, then you definitely felt like that now. You hold your breath, as if that could help you, your eyes not leaving the blade.

“You said,” he begins calmly, his raspy voice filling the space, reverberating in your ears, ”you’ll do anything.”

Your eyes widen, remembering your very own foolish words, that you said back in the bathroom just mere minutes ago. What more could he want from you? Your silence on whatever happened? No – he would’ve already killed you for that, after all - only the dead cannot speak. Perhaps… No. No! Is this situation like the dark romance movies and books you’ve heard of? You feel your cheeks burn, thoughts running wild, surely that stuff doesn’t actually happen in real life. Though you have to admit, you are at least mildly attractive even on your bad days.

Seeing your expression and brightly red cheeks, he cackles: “Not that.” You immediately feel ashamed for yourself for thinking that way. You thought of it even before he did, perhaps you are the bigger creep between the two of you.  Even though your thoughts are largely influenced by stress, panic and adrenaline, you still have to admit that you find him weirdly attractive. Muttering a quick sorry, you turn away. 

“Drive.”

“Where?” you quietly ask while starting up the car engine.

“To Yorknew.”

You halt your actions in disbelief.

“But that’s thousands of kilometers away!”

“So?”

“It’ll take me at least a week or more to get there with stops to sleep!”

“So?”

You sigh in frustration. Seeing the katana in the corner of your eye, you realize you don’t have a choice. It’s a do or die situation. You already feel the exhaustion coming over to you.

“Okay – but we’ll have to stop at the nearest motel or hotel, just whatever we find on the way. I’m way too tired and need to rest for today.”

He doesn’t answer verbally, but him putting his weapon away in an umbrella shaped casing is an enough of a sufficient answer to you. You feel more at relief knowing that he does not plan to hurt you any time soon. Adjusting the seat, he gets himself more comfortable, although, you can see it on his face and body that he stays alert no matter the position and illusion he creates. 

“Oh… wait, I need a map or something,” you remember your previous situation, that led you to the gas station in the first place and got you into this mess.

He nonchalantly pulls out a brand new navigation from his pocket, the newest model as well. Still packaged with a broken anti-thief casing. Oh, you realize right away. Your effort to protect the job of that gas station employee ended up in vain. But surely it’s more understandable now, right? You’re sort of held at a gun point – well technically a kinfe-point.

You hesitantly take it out of his hand, trying your hardest not to initiate a skin contact and possibly upsetting him. Muttering a quiet thank you, you set things up. It’s almost unrecognizable from your old junk that you used before. You can even set an additional stop! Finding a motel on the way, you set your destination as Yorknew. The big city you’ve always wanted to see. Maybe this will all lead to something better. You’ll see sights you’ve always wanted to, but were too scared of because of the distance. Plus - you’ll definitely appreciate your own life more after this. 

You shudder at the distance number you see on the screen. Maybe you should be even praying your own car can take so much, it  definitely won’t be an easy ride. You carefully get out of your parking stop, then leave the gas station. Driving always stressed you out before, but somehow now a second presence in the car calmed you down. Even if that presence was of a lunatic and possibly a murderer.

Not trying to attempt a conversation, you speed up, enjoying the almost empty highway. You do not dare to even sneak a glance at him, though you can feel him watching you. The strange feeling his cold gaze evokes in you never leaves you throughout the calm and quiet drive. You learn to find comfort in it. 

Rush

//i may continue this as a slowburn fic with more chapters//

no trigger warnings, maybe just feitan being his own warning

Now you were definitely lost. You clutched the steering wheel and let out a loud grunt. The navigation gave up on you an hour ago. Unbeknownst to you how, the thing’s screen just went black with a slight buzz. Completely on its own. 

Okay, maybe you were partly at fault there. Mashing the buttons just to stop it from being frozen definitely did not help it. Well there might be more to the story – like for example, when you threw it on the backseat of your car. Maybe those anger management classes your therapist advised were not totally a bad idea. 

Though you wouldn’t have this problem in the first place if your junk of a car had a built in navigation. But it was hard to put the fault at the car, after all, it was everything you had. Everything you owed. You said you wanted to get away from your life – your family, overly toxic relationships, all that stress and expectations you struggled to meet. Travel god knows where without any idea or a plan. But somehow you could never travel without a destination set in your navigation. You found it hard to just start the engine and drive, to not think about what comes next. 

Noticing a traffic sign saying that a gas station is nearby on your way, you decided your next course of action. Again, you were choosing a destination, a goal, making a plan or schedule for you to go by. You blamed the absence of your spontaneity on your upbringing. It’s still hard for you to break the habit. But you can’t help but to listen to the logical part of your brain saying that you are at least going to need a map if not a whole new navigation. Besides, you were getting hungry. There’s no helping that.

Turning the direction indicators on you moved to the lane on your right ready to drive in the station. Feeling collision you harshly stepped on the brake almost throwing yourself through the front window. There definitely was something black and pale that just flew ahead of your car. It couldn’t have been a person right?  You weren’t going crazy just now right? You could swear that the speed it appeared, whatever it was, in front of your car was inhuman. Or were your reflexes just slowed down due to exhaustion? With your breathing picking up due to panic, you start to shake. You barely see anything through your watery eyes as you try to shakingly get out of the car. 

Whatever it was, you have to check. 

Holding onto your car for dear life you hurried in front to check. But there was nothing. No black piece of clothing, no blood, no person. You missed a few breaths as you hurriedly started checking your surroundings. There was nothing you could see that wasn’t already there before. The motorway you drove off. The somewhat bleak scenery. Cloudy weather with no sun soon in sight. As if it was just a fruit of your imagination. Delusion of your tired self. You decided that it’s probably for the better if you stay in the parking lot of the gas station for the night and try to get yourself together. 

You jumped as you heard the honking of a car that you accidentally blocked. Red in the face you hurried back and drove off to park your car. You weren’t exactly low on gas and now you were far too embarrassed to go tank your car among the people you just annoyed by your reckless behavior. Besides you need a second to actually catch your breath. 

Besides three other cars, the parking lot behind the station was almost deserted. Even though you should be happier about sleeping with less strangers around, it somewhat had an eerie undertone to it. You didn’t feel comfortable being this alone. 

Turning of the engine you slumped down your seat and let a deep breath out. No other cars behind you seem to have seen anything that you did. At least no one cared enough to point it out and alarm everyone about the situation. Maybe it really was just your own mind playing games with you. You didn’t feel like you have been awake for that long to be tired enough to see things. 

You heard quiet squeaking outside your car. Mice? No, it sounded like leather rubbing against the surface of the car. Hiding behind your seat, you searched your pockets. You kept a pocket knife on your person for all kinds of situation. Reaching in deeper, the only thing you could find were old receipts you forgot to trash away. No sign of your weapon. 

“Shit.”

Where was it? You shakingly started searching floor of your car. You couldn’t have lost it right? It was your only means of self-defense. Now you even hear footsteps closing in. That’s definitely a person. You turn the engine back on and whatever you heard seems to have fled. Turning it off again, you quickly get out of the car. 

But there was nothing. Nothing. No human being would be able to get away so fast. You checked under the car. There really was just nothing. Checking your pockets, you found your knife again. You were far too tired. It was probably just all in your mind.

Right?

You have to buy something to eat. You have been abusing your own health far too much. Walking to the station, your surroundings feel lot more peaceful. The cold air burning into your skin. Leaves rustling all around you. Cars rushing by. No more suspicious phenomena’s creeping up on you.

Still, you felt oddly unsafe. 

You kept your head low as you walked into the store. You did not want to see any of the angry people you blocked with your car earlier. 

“Sir, will you please stop unpacking that first aid kit before paying!”

From behind the shelves, you heard the young girl’s voice who you presumed work at the station. She was pulling onto a shorter person who seemed to not respond to her cries. You froze on the spot. That black fabric, that pale skin peeking from behind it. You recognized right away from the earlier car accident. 

It was no illusion. You actually ran someone over.

“I’ll pay for it.”

You definitely did not think anything through before saying that. But ultimately it was most likely your fault that this stranger was injured. Despite their strange behavior, you had to help.

“Thank god! I don’t know what my boss would have done if he knew I let someone steal something again…”

The girl almost fell into your arms crying. Though you thought that her manager probably would not mind if she let this one slide and helped to treat the injured. While she was telling you almost her whole life story, you examined the strange person before you. 

Upon closer look you noticed that he’s a guy with rather a short stature. He did not seem to pay attention to any of you two. His coat was wrinkled and torn, you could see some blood stains along the leather. Knee-high shoes were completely covered in dirt and something you did not dare to identify. Half of his face was  covered by a bandana with a skull motive. And the rest of his face… Well, you couldn’t really see as it was covered by his messy raven black hair.

He grabbed his coat and started to take it all off along with his shirt over his head. You saw the cashier freak out. And frankly, you were freaking out right now too. The more you looked at him, the more wounds and blood you saw. 

“Please! Stop!”

You grabbed his arm and he halted all his movement. A pair of cold angry eyes stared at you through the hair. You froze on the spot. Just a look made you realize how dangerous the man standing mere centimeters next to you is. It was too hard to look him in the eyes. It felt like he was skinning you alive, you rather averted your gaze.

“I’ll help you… But let’s not do this here. Let’s go somewhere more private. Like the bathrooms… Alright?” 

“Private?”

He turned completely to you and raised an eyebrow. You realized the kind of connotations your suggestion might have had. Redness coming onto your face, you kept telling yourself to calm down. This was a strange dangerous and injured man who you might have hit with your car. 

“Sure.” He suddenly complied tearing out of your grasp walking towards the bathrooms. Walking slowly, turning back making sure you were following him. You hoped you wouldn’t regret this choice later. Your stranger-danger alarm was going off violently in your head. 

His figure disappears within the men’s bathroom and as much as this situation makes you uncomfortable, you follow him inside. Sudden force pushes you to the wall and before you can even realize, his inhumanely sharp nails are threatening to slice your throat. 

You forget to breath. How does even breathing works at this point? Sincerely – you have no idea. Forced to look into his cold eyes, you almost feel like crying. They are beautiful in a terrifying way – colorless and bone chilling. 

“Your deal?”

It’s almost as if he doesn’t talk but hisses. You feel the nails digging into your skin painfully slow. He’s so close his hair almost touches your face and you can feel his quiet breathing.

“I’m so sorry I ran you over!” 

You blurt out and close your eyes preparing for the worst.

“I’ll do anything so please don’t kill me!”

Peeking behind your eyelashes, you test the waters. It almost seems like he’s laughing at you. Second after that you are released falling to his knees on the cold dirty bathroom tiles. You can breathe again. Your heart is beating as if you just ran a marathon. This felt too surreal. 

He steps back and starts shedding his clothes. If you couldn’t tell from his strength before, now you could see his muscular body. Due to his baggy attire it was rather hard to tell at first glance. Deep slashes and cuts were littered across his pale skin, some older some newer than others. You could see that he tried to patch himself up at most places and that even if he did a good job, there were some wounds on his back that he couldn’t reach or take care of well. This is where you can make yourself useful. You have some medical knowledge from the days back before you abandoned everything.

Picking up yourself from the floor you unpack the kit. You can feel his stare on your back. Thankfully he kept on his pants – you weren’t in that type of danger. He lifts himself up to sit on the row of sinks and leans back against the mirrors. If he weren’t so wary of you, you could swear he would pass out of exhaustion right before your eyes. For a moment he almost seemed vulnerable. 

“I thought you someone else.”

He explained in his broken way of speaking. You didn’t expect of him to give you an actual explanation, why he attacked you – till now you didn’t even think he saw you as a person. At first you were to him like a mouse or a little ant he could squash any minute. Now you were another human being. You start working on his injuries making sure not to touch him too much. Any move could possibly agitate him again and then it would be over for you. 

“Can I ask… If it wasn’t me who did these injuries – then who?”

It may have been a bold move to ask him that. 

“Dead people.”

You stop and look up to him. Looking into his eyes seems much more easier now. Maybe you are getting more comfortable with him – perhaps too comfortable for the situation. 

“Maybe… Maybe I’d rather not know.”

Under your fingertips you can feel his body vibrate from his laugh. Though it’s more like a screech than a laugh, it makes the corners of your lips lift up too. No matter how odd the situation may have seemed, you felt oddly at peace. The adrenaline that ran through your veins just a moment ago gave you a feeling of rush, perhaps the one you were searching for. 

You resume your work.

“Feitan.”

“Hm?”

“My name.”

Strange feelings of excitement overcome you and even though you know that giving your name to a stranger covered in blood is a dumb idea, you decide to do so anyway. You give him your name and seal the acquaintanceship between the two of you. 

“Nice to meet you, Feitan.”

hmmmmm working on a slowburn comfort angsty feitan fic

Freaks

TW: starvation, kidnapping, swearing, name-calling, Feitan (he’s his own warning)

You can’t even remember the feeling of the sun on your skin, the way the wind would brush your hair and rain would wash your face. It all seems too foreign. After all you haven’t seen the light of the day for weeks. Maybe months or even years. Your perception of time has been altered. Ever since you met him, everything in your life has been altered. He has broken you down and created anew. Everything you have been, all of your previous existence in this world, the connections you have made with people, the career you have built. It’s all gone.

You hear the twist of the keys in the old rusty iron door. You were kept as an animal. Locked behind a strong door as if your desire to run away and roam the world free posed a danger to society. Perhaps in some way the assumption was right. Because god knows what he would do if you dared to escape. 

The sound of him pushing the heavy door open makes you jump back closer to the opposite edge of the room. As if that could help you in any way. Cuffed and starved, you had no way to protest. Involuntarily, you lock your eyes with him. Greeted with that devilish spark in his eyes, shivers run down your spine. You may have already been through a lot with him but the fear never goes away. He always finds a way to surprise you.

“Waste of space.”

He always makes sure to give you such a warm greeting. 

Shivering you make an attempt to hide your face behind your knees. You feel the tears stinging in your eyes. Falling for this man was the biggest mistake of your life. 

“You think that help?” he mocks you in his broken way of speaking your language, ”Useless little bitch.”

At the speed of light he’s already there. Mere inches away from you harshly grabbing your hair. He drags your face from behind your knees abusing your scalp. You shriek in pain as you look at him blurry eyed seeking for mercy.

“I’m- I’m so sorry....Please. Please!” 

He harshly grabs your jaw making you meet his gaze. He’s enjoying every second of it. All the sounds of pain you make, all the tears you shed. It’s as if he feeds on your fear. 

You freeze on the spot as he gets closer. His breath softly brushes against your skin. At least that’s one thing that’s soft about him. You feel his tongue on your cheek, licking away the tears all up to your eye bag softly brushing your wet lower lashes. You don’t dare to move, even your breathing stops with your heart heavily beating in your chest. He moves away and you loudly exhale in pleasure. Breathing a lot heavier you avert your gaze as you feel your cheeks heat up.

“Freak.”

“Feitan... I love you.”

Oh, you are completely delusional!

Headcannons for Yoon Bum, Feitan Portor, Illumi Zoldyck, and Tamaki Amajiki

⚠️ note: there is nsfw content, mentions of cnc, might be triggering to some!! ⚠️

Yoon Bum

sfw

- wants to be loved

- devoted, completely loyal

- will do ANYTHING asked of him

- cuddles

- obsessive, doesn’t know how to love correctly

- obsessed like STALKER LEVEL

- but it’s sweet in its own way.

- gets jealous when you talk about anyone

- OLIVE THEORY

- hes so sweet, will plump your pillow and shit like that

- loves it when you do little things

- like just scoot closer to him outta no where

- or lay your legs on him

- or play with his hair

- LORD man will get on him knees

- no, like.. seriously. he will

- and i have a feeling he’d love random kisses, albeit will be hella shy ab it

nsfw

- praise.

- complete bottom

- the only time he will dom is if you make him

- please reward him for everything

- GOOD BOY

- such a good boy

- so submissive

- will do everything asked of him

- so cute

- cums too fast

- thrusts inexperienced-ly

- the cutest doe eyes

- will kind of manipulate you to get his way

- :]

Feitan

sfw

- tsundere

- will tsk or tch at you for everything

- smiles just a little behind his scarf thing when he thinks you do something cute

- does the little things

- gets steals you something when he sees you eyeing it

- listening and remembering to the small things you talk about

- takes your plate to the kitchen with his when you’re both done with food

- takes bags from you when you’re holding something

- when you two walk together he’ll brush his hand against yours to see if you’ll get the hint

- things like that

- likes being the big spoon when cuddling or anything where he can hold you

- is utterly in love with you but denies it profusely

- his eyes soften just a little when he sees you

- when he wakes up in the morning, the first thing he does is pull you close(r) to him.

- or he’ll look for you if you’re not there. (and maybe panic a bit)

nsfw

- switch

- definitely dom leaning

- even when he’s bottoming he’s like dominant about it.

- HAIR PULLING

- he likes to be caressed and wants you to be sweet

- but don’t treat him like he’s fragile or made of glass

- throw in a little degrading every now and then

- bdsm

- will spank

- makes you get on your knees more often than not

- sometimes he’ll bend you over his, spank you and make you count, if you mess up he starts over again

- AFTERCARE BOSS

- so sweet afterwards

- will definitely cuddle you

- in the mornings he’s also very sweet. sometimes you’ll wake up to food or something if he’s in the mood or wakes up before you (he prob forced someone to cook tho, bc for some reason, i cant see him being able to cook 🤷‍♀️)

- :)

Illumi

sfw

- you’ll have to bare with him here

- very emotionally constipated

- does this adorable head tilt when he’s confused (literally a puppy, i like do think hes like a lab or smt idk)

- he’s not used to physical touch but will hold your pinky finger with his :]

- he also will do these domestic thing he probably learned from movies

- like touching you with his cold feet

- or covering you with a blanket when you fall asleep

- will stiffly pet your head/hair

- lets you braid his hair occasionally (wont admit it but he loves those claw clip thingys)

- if he’s really tired after a mission he’ll plop himself onto you and cuddle you

- don’t touch him too suddenly though, make sure he knows what you’re doing

- be soft and gentle with him but also don’t be afraid

- sometimes he’ll release some bloodlust or just try and scare you to make you think he’s bad or “a monster”

- has a hard time knowing that you actually love him

- and don’t want him for his family, power, status, money or- you get the idea

- does want children though so.

- like a family

- and that, to him, is like- 5 kids so.

- he is very stubborn so you’re gonna have to settle with like at least one child

nsfw

- BREEDING

- i’m telling you this dude could go on for HOURS

- and i don’t mean like 1 or 2

- I MEAN LIKE 8-9 hours

- definitely tries to impregnate you

- if you have female anatomy or are fertile

- if not then he is getting like a surrogate or something

- he needs heirs

- seems vanilla but is kinda kinky

- definitely does the choking or pain(cmon mans a sadist)

- i think he’s into like pervy stuff too

- def watches you when you think you’re alone

- whether thats like taking a shower, changing, masturbating, etc.

- literally doesn’t know what boundaries are

- he gets off on you not knowing he’s there

- i feel like he’s into somnophilia

- :3

Tamaki

sfw

- so sweet

- timid too

- the cutest

- his favorite cuddle position is like with you two curled up facing each other and your foreheads pressed together

- likes to just stare at you

- you make him blush a lot

- with anything

- say something, wink at him, check him out, hold his hand, play with his hair, kiss him on the cheek(or anywhere), etc.

- he’ll blush

- likes for you to lay on him, no matter your size.

- the weight on him gives him comfort

- like a weighted blanket or stuffed animal

- doesn’t take compliments too well

- usually just like shakes his head or looks conflicted

nsfw

- i don’t really think he’s comfortable with sex

- definitely on the asexual spectrum

- but i will say he does like intimacy and sensuality

- he just likes to be loved

- :>

(EDIT: WHY TF IS MY GRAMMAR SO BAD HELLO??)