Sometimes You Need Dialogue Tags And Don't Want To Use The Same Four

sometimes you need dialogue tags and don't want to use the same four

A colour wheel divided into sections with dialogue tags fitting the categories 'complains', 'agrees', 'cries', 'whines', 'shouts', and 'cheers'
A colour wheel divided into sections with dialogue tags fitting the categories 'asks', 'responds', 'states', 'whispers', 'argues', and 'thinks'

More Posts from Princessisfinethx and Others

5 months ago

do you do anything else?

That could mean a whole lot of things.

Like, hobbies? Yes, I sew, I cross stitch, read (real books cause I'm waiting on a kindle) I draw too. 😇

But I'm assuming you mean characters I write for. Assuming. If not, then just lmk.

But with characters, yes I write for a lot of different ones. If you had a specific character or fandom in mind, just ask and I'll let you know.


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2 years ago

Hm👀

The Summoning - Sleep Token

Sl*t Him Out - Baby Tate

these are probably gonna be my song inspirations for next chapter of MilesxReader


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1 year ago

Monster!König x reader One shot(?)

A/n: I've always liked the one where König has hidden tentacles that sneak out from under his hood, but I've seen art and ideas where he can just make more tentacles appear from all over?? So this one is going to be (for now) just tentacles from under the hood. And I still don't know if it's called one shots or head cannons but you'll see it down below. Please leave a comment to correct me

Warnings: fishing hook injury, tentacles.

M!König: Who lives in a deep, vast lake across the highway from what he assumed was a hospital. The equipment and medicines used there smelled the same but it didn't bother him. So long as they didn't pollute in his lake, he wasn't bothered by them.

M!König: Who one day was trying to eat a fish he caught until his tentacles snagged itself deep on a fishing hook that he didn't see. It wasn't the first time he's had fish hooks tangle in his tentacles but this time he feared he couldn't get it out, alone.

M!König: Who begrudgingly decided he would pretend to be human and go to the hospital across the highway. As said before, he's dealt with a hook before, but this one hurt, a lot. Almost as bad as the time he got shot by hunters. Maybe that was being dramatic though.

M!König: Who put on some fisherman clothes he stole a long time ago, his hood, and tucked his tentacles away enough to look human. When he walked inside, he noticed everyone had a dog with them. Weird. It sent his insticts off, reminding him of hunting dogs. Some of them growled lowly at him, but they were all different sizes and breeds. He could easily take them.

M!König: Who didn't get too many weird looks. He marched up to the counter and demanded a doctor. The desk worker looked confused, and intimidated, he thought. When she asked if he wanted to make an appointment, he shook his head and stated he needed help now.

M!König: Who was getting frustrated when she started asking about any pets he had. She sensed his frustrations so she called a 'doctor' over to speak with him. That's when you appeared. You had gentle eyes, and a softer voice, but at the moment he couldn't care less. You walked him into a separate room and asked what was the problem.

M!König: Who explained he had a fish hook stuck in his face, (kind of) and he needed it removed. That's when you explained that this was not a hospital, it was the vet; a place where people bring their sick animals/pets. He was quiet for a moment and thought, it's close enough, right? When you asked to see it anyways, he happily showed you.

M!König: Who, when he showed you, watched your eyes widen. His tentacles unravel themselves to show you where the hook was. You were a little pale, he noticed. You had stepped closer and asked if it were alright to touch his... tentacles? He wasn't stupid, he knew this was not ordinary for humans but he allowed you.

M!König: Who felt your gloved fingers gently move aside his tentacles. Some unconsciously wrapped around your fingers and he apologized softly for that. You announced that, you could numb the area and pry the hook out, but it will need time to heal. He wanted it removed immediately so he agreed with your diagnosis. It didn't take long until you were able to pull the hook out with a proud smile. König felt immediate relief and he thanked you.

M!König: Asked what he must do to repay you, but you shook your head and explained that this was a 'special case' and you were happy to help. When you asked what he was, stating that clearly he wasn't human, he responded with, "König." You gave him your name as well and you didn't ask any more questions. So he left, but he knew he must repay you somehow.


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1 month ago

College student reader x Simon (Reversed)

((There's actually nothing about college except the beginning. Part 2 of Simon x college student reader))

- Stressed Simon, (actual angst) past argument mentions, hurt(?)/comfort. I really got into this one. wow. Mentions showering but nothing explicit. Dropping 'L' word at the end and also motorboating lol (face to chest basically)

I'm not rereading this, whatever goes, goes.

You were quickly typing into your computer, eyeballing the typo before backspacing quickly and fixing it. You were sat on the couch, humming and typing away to finish up a summary for your English teacher. Easy stuff, not too much work. And it should be your last thing to do today. You smiled a little as you thought of all your free time. Briefly you wondered if Simon would want to go catch a movie with you at the theater or stay home instead. You didn't mind either.

The door opens and Simon walks in. You smiled up at him but he didn't look at you. He kicked off his shoes and went straight to the bedroom. Your smile dropped and you moved to close your laptop, but paused. What happened?

Simon walked into the bedroom, into the bathroom and shut the door. He turned on the shower and began stripping out his clothes quickly. He needed to calm himself. After the day he's had, he was about to snap. First he got a ticket for an expired parking meter, then some older woman at the store snapped at him for standing too close to her (he was a shopping cart and a half away from her.) His card declined four times before he had to use cash because he forgot to unlock the card the night before...a wide series of things in between as well. It seemed like today, the universe held it's middle finger at Simon. And to top it off? Bird shit on his neck down his back.

He got into the cold shower and began scrubbing with a back brush. You had been all bright smiles to greet him, but he had to look away. Something ugly twisted in his mind, that grinning evil insecurity. He didn't want to yell at you. He did once and the look on your face was still plastered in his mind. Hurt.

You did that, remember?

He hissed and rubbed his face with his wet hands. He never wanted that to happen again. So he ran past you. Avoiding you to keep you happy. Aren't I pathetic?

The bird shit down his back was gone, but he kept scrubbing, grumbling about bad luck under his breath. Then there was a knock. Simon didn't want to answer, but he didn't want you to come in and see him like this again. But you didn't enter.

"Simon. I'll give you some alone time." You spoke through the door, hand faintly resting on the knob. You wanted to go in but you knew he needed his space. "But, I'm gonna start cooking, it'll be done in an hour probably. If you still want to be alone by then, um..." You looked around. "Just- put a sock on the door handle, and I'll let you be okay?"

A smile twitched at his lips. He sighed however, then answered in a low tone, his voice baritone enough for you to hear it past the shower. "Alright love." A pause. "Thank you."

You didn't say anything else, he heard your footsteps leave and the bedroom door closing. His heart felt heavy and he closed his eyes. Letting the cold water run over his hair and down his body. The ugly little thing that whispered in his head was still there, but not so loud anymore.

He slowly turned the hot water on, breathing out again.

~~~

You had just finished cooking, proud of how it turned out too. You turned everything off to let it cool, then went to the bedroom to see if Simon still needed to be alone. But as you turned, you ran right into him and jumped from fright. At the same time, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder with ease. You screamed and giggled. "Simon-!"

He deposits you on the couch, and then lays on top of you. Full weight. You laughed from the pressure but soon he shifted to hold you more comfortably. Arms wrapped around your middle as his body laid between your legs. His head rested against your chest where he pressed his face for a moment or two. You blushed, waiting, then he turned his head and laid his ear against your chest. Eyes closed, breathing normally. He was listening to your heart.

You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair and scratching the nape of his neck. "You wanna tell me about it?" You asked.

He hummed. "Bad day. Nothin' went right."

You nodded. "Did the shower and sleep help?"

"Couldn't sleep." He replied. He lifted his head and looked at you. "M'sorry for how I came in. Didn't want to snap at you." Again. The word was there but he didn't say it. Your eyes softened and he knew you thought about it too.

But you smiled softly. "Don't apologize...you needed space Si. Everyone does sometimes." You ran your fingers through his hair. You could see the look in his eye, the regret. The one memory that seemed to hurt him more than it did you.

"Simon?" He hummed and waited for you to continue. "I love you." His heart skipped, but you went on. "And what you said before in the past, is in the past. You were overwhelmed and stressed and I didn't know how to comfort you. I just want to take care of you like you do for me."

He sighed and put his face into your chest again, making you snort a little. "I want to be better."

"Simon, shush yourself." You kissed his head and he lifted his face. "There's no getting 'better' when everything sucks. I can't get you out of a bad mood, but I'll be here waiting to help in anyway I can. If that means waiting an hour or two, then I'll do it."

His eyes softened, that voice in his head snuffed out completely. "I love you too."

You smiled, your hand rubbing his cheek. "Wanna eat now? Food is still warm."

He huffed, stuffed his face back into your chest and ignored your shrieks and giggling. "Few more minutes..." You complied, letting your hand run up his back slowly while he listened to your heart. Warm. Safe.

"I've got you."


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1 month ago

Tbh, Simon is probably hesitant to comfort you when you're stressed. I was tempted to write that in my last fic but I was feeling down and liked the idea at the time.

He'd still be there, but he'd do whatever you asked him, to the dot. Leave you alone for a while? Done. Cook your favorite food? Right away. Go to the store and buy that video game you've been wanting to play? Yes ma'am.

However.

König? He would fuck you until you didn't even know how to spell the word stress anymore.

Firm believer. In this.


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10 months ago

I need help! I was reading this fanfic about the 141 getting jealous that the reader receives flowers that wasn't sent by them, and it was smut. Idk who wrote it but I can't find it😭😭


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2 years ago

Yep, I'm here.

You've probably seen me on A03. Maybe not. IF you did, then you know what I write. Enjoy your stay. I'll be around... trying to figure out how this works so bare with me.


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1 year ago

Invisible Man x Reader pt. 3

I'm tired, I'm a little drunk. I finished my first year of college. And I'm hungry. I'm sorry t took so long.

Warnings: mentions of poison, mentions of suicide by drinking (nothing serious) slight mention of past abuse (you'd have to squint), some drinking, male masturbation, mentions of sex.

Minors DNI, everyone else, enjoy :)

~~~Read under the cut~~~

You turned on your side and kept your eyes closed. Breathe in, breathe out. Again. Then you sigh. You weren’t able to sleep, and being in an unfamiliar old room wasn’t helping. Griffin wasn’t wrong when he said the room hadn’t been used in years. You could see dust particles floating about the moment he opened the door. It was an old bedroom, with a dresser, a vanity, and a large bed. All covered in dust. You made a face when he first showed it to you. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, you grabbed a duster and a broom. It was 11 o’clock at night when you finished cleaning, but you were satisfied.

After Griffin brought you some of his clothes to sleep in, you thanked him and wished him a good night. He did the same and retreated into his bedroom. You got dressed, giggling at yourself for wearing even more men’s clothes, then got into the dust-free bed. The blankets were cool and fluffy, and the extra pillows on the bed made you feel as if you were lying upon the clouds. So, you lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Your fingers twisted at the fabric on your chest, and you inhaled to sigh but paused. Your eyes scan the shirt; then slowly, you lift it to your nose. You take a small sniff, and your nostrils are greeted with the faint scent of soapy sage wood and musk.

You blink, feeling how hot your face became. You sniff again, then let go of the shirt quickly; the fabric settles on your chest. How perverted you must seem right now! You close your eyes and frown as guilt begins to worm its way into your chest. Guilt for taking Griffin’s clothes, his room (even though he said he’s never used it), and guilt for leaving your fiancĂ© all alone to cook and clean for himself. You open your eyes again and stare up. No, you knew it wasn’t guilt that made you think of your fiancĂ©. It was fear, but you wished it was guilt. You silently wished that you could play the role of a good wife, like he said earlier. Your mother would have scolded you, should she be living in the same town. But your father? You smile softly, knowing he would probably knock the teeth out of your fiancĂ© for ever hurting you.

You missed your parents terribly You knew moving to a larger city would be a challenge, especially for a single woman with no great status. You met with Johnathan, the son of your mother’s friend. He offered you a residence and food if you married him. And, of course, that sounded like a dream come true! And John was sweet, most of the time. But it didn’t sit right with you. Staying in that house and doing nothing all day except clean and cook and occasionally birth a child. You frowned again, looking away from the ceiling.

Then you met Griffin. The albino man who works with chemicals, solutions, poisons, and antidotes. He didn’t see you as a future housewife or mother, he saw you as an extra pair of hands that could be taught. You remember when you asked him why he allowed you to work with him. He looked over at you, still visible at the time. He had handsome features when his face wasn’t scrunched up in annoyance. Even despite his pale nature, he was beautiful. “You’re a capable human being with the same brain as a man. It’s ridiculous that some must be antagonized because of one’s gender. Women have gone to war, and hunted, why should I care
” He looked away and hummed. “You’re smarter than most men and women I’ve met anyway, I think that earns you a place as my research assistant, wouldn’t you agree?”

A smile graces your lips as you recall the memory. He’s been nothing but kind to you. He hasn’t yelled at you for breaking a vile, or sneered at you for cooking something he didn’t like. Though it’s rare to receive praise from the man, but you didn’t mind. He would speak up about something he didn’t like. One time you cooked a beef stew when it was cold out, and he ate two bowls worth. He left all the carrots inside the bowl however, then admitted that he hated carrots. So, you don’t cook with them anymore. Another time, you were cleaning the inside of a beaker, and he suggested a different way of cleaning and drying them, so your fingerprints didn’t stain the glass.

You sit up slowly and throw the blankets from your body. You decided you would go and drink a glass of water, hoping somehow that would help you sleep. Carefully you move across the floor and towards the door. Once you open it and peek outside, you spot Griffin’s door already open. You look towards the stairs, and you spot a faint light flickering below. Being careful not to make a sound, you head for the stairs and make your way down. In the lab, the light was brighter. A candle was lit and sitting on the counter, around the way was a headless and handless body. You watched for a moment as he moved, and you could notice when he turned his head by the way the collar of his shirt would bend.

You cross your arms and stand at the entranceway of the lab. “Griffin.” Your voice was soft but it didn’t stop him from jumping in surprise. His body turned towards you and he set down a book he was looking over. “I see you can’t sleep either.”

“Apologies if I disturbed your sleep.” He stretched his back then looked down at his desk. “I’ve discovered I can’t sleep without a blind on; my eyelids are invisible, so I see right through them. I’ve also discovered I don’t quite like sleeping with a blind on.” He sighed in annoyance. You took a seat across from him at the table.

“You didn’t disturb me. I suppose I couldn’t sleep with so many thoughts in my head. Worrying thoughts.” You look at the shirt, then let your eyes wander up to look at the invisible mass, where you know a pair of eyes are studying you. “I thought maybe a glass of water might help.”

A short ‘hmph’ sounded from his throat and he stood up. “I’ll join you. You know what they say really helps you to sleep? A glass of whiskey.” He walks to the kitchen with his candlestick leading the way. A smile forms on your lips and you tilt your head.

“You have whiskey? I didn’t know you indulged in that type of alcohol.” You follow him into the kitchen as you hear him mutter.

“I own one bottle of whiskey, a gift from an old friend. However, I also own a bottle of wine, also a gift. I only indulge when I think I’ve deserved some.” He opens a cabinet and takes out a beautiful-looking bottle of whiskey. “Or for a special occasion. Both don’t happen often.” He looks over the bottle, then looks at you. “Care for a taste?”

Your nose scrunched and you gave a nervous smile. “I’ve heard terrible things about whiskey. Like how disgusting it is
and how violent people become
” Your smile falters, and he notices. His thoughts carry to your fiancé’s drinking habits.

“I can assure you that it’s not the alcohol that makes you violent, it’s the person that acts upon it themselves.” He looks over the whiskey and then at you. “And I promise that one drink will not get you drunk.”

You weigh over the idea, knowing you’ve never had whiskey before but have heard a lot about it. “All right, I’ll try a little bit.” Griffin takes out two glasses and sets them down. He opens the whiskey, and you realize he’s never opened it before tonight. As he’s pouring, you ask, “Whiskey is a Scottish drink, correct?”

“Correct.” He closes the alcohol and puts it away. “The man that gifted it to me, traveled to Scotland himself and picked this up at a shop. He told me Scott’s drink as if the world is ending tomorrow.” As he handed you the glass of alcohol, he hummed and mumbled. “He warned me this stuff was strong.” He raises his glass, and you stare at him. He then reaches over to grab your hand holding your own glass, lifting it up as well, before tapping his glass against yours. “Cheers. Now you say cheers as well.”

A little laugh bubbles out of your throat and you grin. “Cheers.” You tap your glass against his and then watch as Griffin drinks his whiskey. The alcohol runs down his throat and you watch it disappear within his shirt. You then do the same, taking a drink of your whiskey as if it were water. A big mistake. You cough and cover your mouth, shaking your head. “Oh God what is that?” You could feel the whiskey literally burning your nose and throat. And somehow, it felt hot as it slid down.

You hear a mixture of coughing and laughter from across you. Griffin was covering his mouth with his sleeve, and he was doubled over. “I’m sorry, I guess I should have warned you
”

“It burns, is that normal?” You cough again and head to the sink for some water. “Am I allergic to this?”

Griffin chuckled again, a deep sound that you weren’t familiar with. You weren’t sure if it was the whiskey or him that sent goosebumps up your back. “That’s normal. I should have explained it better to you.” He finished the rest of his drink while you drank water from your cupped hand.

“How do people enjoy this? It tastes like poison, literal burning poison. At least I imagine that’s what it tastes like.” You turn the sink off and glare down at the cup of whiskey still sitting in your cup.

“It is poison. And many choose to drink it for different reasons. To get drunk, or to relax, to get tired. Or to slowly kill themselves. A bottle at a time.” He walks to the sink and places the cup down. “You don’t have to finish it if you don’t want to. But a tip for drinking any alcohol, except wine, is to drink it fast. Let it run straight down the throat. Wine is for flavor, this is not.”

You take in his words carefully. Licking your lips, you take the glass in your hands, quickly throw the drink back, and attempt to ‘let it run straight down.’ It does, however, still burn going down. And once again, it warms your throat and chest as you swallow it. You let out another cough and push the drink away once again. “I’m done
” You coughed again but Griffin could see a little smile on your face.  

            He took both glasses and set them down in the sink. You turn to try washing them, but Griffin stops you with a hand on your back. “No need for that tonight. Go back to bed and try getting some sleep.”

            You frown and stare at the clothes that float before you. “I’ll try, but
I’m still worried.”

            “About what?” He questions you, still standing beside you with his hand resting on your lower back.

            You sigh softly. “Well
what if we can’t find a cure for you? You’ll just be invisible forever? And what about my fiancĂ©? What if he comes in the morning with the police, o-or he tries breaking in?”

            “There’s a cure for everything, even if we haven’t found it yet. It will take some time, is all. And I have plenty of time. As for your fiancĂ©, I’m sure he’s fallen asleep in some drunken stupor
if he tries breaking in, I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.” You failed to notice the change in his voice when he admits this.

            You nod slowly, your eyes staring down at his shirt. His words helped only a little, and he seems to realize this. “It all feels like a massive burden on you, Griffin.”

            Warm, gentle hands touched your chin, lifting your face up so you looked up at the nothing that sat upon his shoulders. Once he had your eyes, he took your hands in his. “You’ve called yourself a burden twice now. I’ll not allow it a third time. You’ve done more good for me in this house than I’ve done for myself in years. I want no more talk of this, understand?” When you nod, he hums, and you think he nods back. “Good. Scientists like you and I shouldn’t doubt or worry. It’s not good for the brain.”

            A smile grows on your lips, and you tilt your head. “I’m a scientist now?”

            Griffin was quiet as he thought over his words, then he cleared his throat. “No, not yet. I could give you a test to see if you’re smart enough to be one. Not that you’d fail, I should have taught you everything I know by now.” He started mumbling. “Have I taught you everything? Perhaps I should have taken note
” His fingers were rubbing your hand, and you held back a giggle. You felt lighter and giddy. A little dizzy.

            “I’ll take any test you give me.” You grin. “I want to be a scientist.”

            “I can have that arranged.” He pauses before quickly letting go of your hands. He clears his throat once again. “You should go to bed now, I’m sure the alcohol is calming your system.”

            You give a small nod before walking to the stairs. You turn your head to the kitchen and smile softly. “Goodnight Griffin.” With that, you carefully climb the stairs and smile to yourself, finding the task to be funnier than it should be. And once you hit the bed, your mind seems to swim in bliss that wasn’t there before. Butterflies in your stomach and a head stuck in the clouds, it seemed. You think briefly that this was, in fact, the alcohol. Then you remember Griffin’s words and how he was holding your hand, and you let out another giggle followed by a yawn. Lulling you to sleep was the faint scent of his shirt, and when you finally slept, it felt like your body and mind were able to rest for the first time in forever.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

            He watches you leave the kitchen, knowing now that you were tipsy from one drink. It was too much, and he knew it; shame on you for almost wasting the small woman, he scolded himself. Once you are back in your room, he walks slowly to the lab and pauses. His mind kept wandering back to you. Your chin in his hand, how you looked up at him when there was nothing there. The soft touch of your hands in his. An invisible hand runs through invisible hair while Griffin lets out a deep sigh. What was happening to him? He was drunk, that’s the only logical answer. And with that logical answer, he knew he should go to his room and sleep.

            He walks upstairs, his eyes glancing at the door of your room. He walks inside his own room and shuts the door. Walking to bed, his mind wanders to his work, about his invisibility tests and blood samples. He’s yet to do a semen sample. His mind wanders for a moment, asking himself if it was appropriate to do such a thing after what just occurred. A grunt leaves his throat, and he gets up to find a clear test pallet. After laying down on the bed, he adjusts himself, imagining anything to arouse him. Using the long sleeve of his shirt, he covers his eyes to better imagine. He’s never had sex, but he’s witnessed it before, as well as read about it in a book that generously came with pictures. His pants become tighter, and he lets out a deep breath, palming himself.

            Griffin has done this before, plenty of times. He has needs like everyone else. But he usually never has the time to do so. He’ll imagine the photos from the books, combined with the sounds he’s heard from the couple that decided to fuck in the middle of a bar. His hand takes out his cock, slowly stroking it while his imagination played out. You appear in his head (almost immediately) and his hand slows to a stop, but he feels a shiver of delight run down his spine. This is sick, he thought to himself. You smiled at him, your legs straddling his hips while wearing his clothes. And then you had no pants on, sitting against his length bare. A shaky breath leaves his lips, and his grip tightens for a second.

            You said his name, in that soft voice you use on him. It drives him wild. How dare you use something so simple to enrapture him like this? His hand strokes faster as he imagines your eyes, staring up at him. When he lifted your chin, you’d look at him, and how your lips parted when you did. He groans and bites his lip. He imagines where he would take you. In his bed, of course. To have you lay down against his bed sheets, looking up at him with soft eyes, caused a moan to escape his throat. He wanted you in his tub as well, water be damned. He wanted to make a mess. Having you on top of him, riding his length while water splashed out of the sides. And he couldn’t begin to imagine the beautiful noises you’d make for him.

            His back arched and he groaned as he came, his hips bucking into his hand while his head tilted back in pleasure. He spilled across himself, panting as he tried calming down. He realized his first mistake; he didn’t use the damn pallet. His sample was all over his chest. His next mistake was the thoughts he just used to pleasure himself. You.

How perverted he must seem right now, he thought regrettably.


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1 year ago

Konig x FemReader Pt. 2

Bing bong, I'm gonna post Konig's pov in a few...I'm gonna try updating some other fics first so gimme a few.

Warnings: Little bit of violence, mentions of 'implied' rape. Knife use, some blood description. And spit. *wink*

Again, I used Bing to translate so if its patchy then I am sorry.

Enjoy<3

So, you weren't dead yet. But damn did you wish you were. You woke up to the sound of screaming coming from other rooms. However when you opened your eyes, you were met with a dark fabric over your eyes. There was a bag over your head, and after pulling at your arms you found you were also restrained to a chair.

Lovely, you thought bitterly.

You just close your eyes and focus on the sounds around you. There were some people speaking, sometimes yelling. You couldn't make out what they were saying but you were positive it wasn't in English. However, the pained screams and pleas that followed definitely sounded English.

You could hear footsteps as well, but you didn't know if you wanted them knowing you were awake yet. You won't get anywhere if you kept playing opossum, you knew that much. But you also knew that whatever was going to happen to you was inevitable unless you found a way to escape wherever you were.

As if on que, you heard footsteps walking your way. You listened as they got closer before eventually pausing. Your head was still tilted down so it looked as if you were unconscious.

"Bist du schon wach, kleine Maus?" Your eyebrows furrowed at the recognition of that voice. Your head tilted up and you hear a soft 'aah'. Before he could speak again you spoke up instead.

"If this is the same guy that attacked me in that building, you're gonna need to get a translator cause I don't know what the hell you're saying." You raise your head some more as you hear the protest whining of an old door hinge. Then those heavy footsteps came closer to you. You sat up as straight as you could.

An amused chuckle made your skin break out in goosebumps. He paused in front of you and you could hear him doing something. When he spoke again, his voice was below you. He was kneeling down in front of you.

"I know English. Do not worry FrÀulein. Did you rest well?" You grit your teeth at his question.

"You mean that concussion you gave me? Wonderful. The chair I woke up tied to? Oh, and the bag over my head was such a nice touch." You couldn't help the bitter sarcasm spewing from your lips. You were in a shitty situation and you were scared. There wasn't much else you could do to mask it.

The man before you let out a little chuckle again. You jumped as you felt the bag being ripped off your head. Your eyes had to adjust to the lighting even though it was pretty dim. You blink and feel your skin grow cold at the sight of him before you. He was still wearing that hood, and his eyes were still as chilling as they were before.

"So sassy. Tell me, are you scared FrÀulein?" He drops the bag on the floor and stands up to his full height. "I could imagine the things that are running through your little head." His hand found the side of your cheek and you pulled your head away from his touch. He tisked at your little action, letting his hand fall behind your neck and graze across your skin.

"You should have killed me when you had the chance." Your voice was low, threatening but not as menacing as you hoped. "Because when I get free of these restraints, I'm going to kill you myself."

"Ah well," He laughed, having to pause before he continued. "Will you? Really?" He suddenly had your throat in his grip, making you tilt your head up to look at him with a gasp. "You could have let me die in that building, yes? That helicopter crash could have killed me, maybe wounded me. You had enough time to jump out the way but-" He squeezes your throat and inches closer to you. "You saved me instead. Why?"

He finally let's go of your throat and you gasp for air, glaring at him as he finally settles in front of you. He kneels in front of you so he could get a better view of you. You hold his stare for maybe thirty seconds. He was very patient. You finally looked away, his gaze was heavy, but curious. Not to mention his eyes...

"I don't know." You answer slowly and sitting back in your chair. "I-" you went to answer but closed your mouth. "Look I don't know, force of habit to help teammates I guess?"

"I am not one of your teammates." He chimes in quickly.

"Yeah I know that! I don't know why I saved your sorry ass! Maybe I didn't want your blood splattering on me and ruining my clothes!" You glanced at your lap and you froze. "Where's my uniform?" You just noticed you were wearing what looked like loose jogging pants. Your eyes narrowed as you looked at your shirt. It was a large loose grey shirt.

"Oh yes, I changed them. You had lots of pockets, lots of hiding spots. I didn't want you pulling a weapon out of nowhere." He laughed and reached behind him. He pulls out your pocketknife. The one you stabbed into his thigh before running. "Dein kleines Messer." He smiled and opened it.

You watched carefully, feeling your heartbeat picking up. The thought of this fuck changing you and seeing you nude made your heart sink but you had bigger problems now. You couldn't help the line that spilled out. "Oh I was wondering where I left that."

He laughed a dry little laugh, tilting his head up at you and twirling it slowly. "I should return it. Ja?"

He held the knife up and you knew exactly what he was about to do and you yelled quickly. "No don't!" You squeezed your eyes shut but never felt the knife make contact with your skin. You look and see the knife tip hovering above the fabric of the pants.

"Ah you're right, I wouldn't want to have to change your pants again." You made a face at his remark. He was smirking, you just knew he was. "The first ones were hard to get off." He instead brings the knife up to your lips, pressing the tip of the blade to your lips. "I should repay you for those wounds you gave me. But it can wait."

You kept still as the knife slowly drags across your lips. "Yeah, and who knows what fucking blood diseases you have hidden on that knife-" He suddenly sliced your bottom lip, making you cry out in shock. You already tasted the blood spreading across your tongue. Your eyebrows furrow together and you look up at him. "Great now I have it too."

"You do not know when to quit talking." He was observing the blood on the knife. "I will fix that soon." He looks at you, and you can see the smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

You smiled back.

Then you spit the blood that had pooled in your mouth onto his face and mask. He yelled something in German and you laughed. He stood up quickly and used the end of his foot to tip your chair back. Your eyes widened as it tilted and you stare up at him. He scoffs and pushes the chair back with force. You fell back with a thud, groaning slightly. Then you laughed and let your head lay against the concrete floor beneath the chair.

"I should have my men come here and teach you a lesson." He hissed while walking up to you. "I'll enjoy hearing your cries for mercy." He puts his boot on your chest and presses down.

"Oh?" You coughed out, trying to keep your voice steady. "What's your name? So I'll know what to scream for you- fuck!" You groan as he pressed his foot down harder. He growled as he turned his body, walking away from your tied self. You thought he was leaving but never heard the door close.

"I will be back, and I will not be so sweet next time." You heard the door close again. You were left on the floor in a dark room. There was a little bit of light streaming in through an open window on the door. Other than that, the room looked like an old-fashioned prison cell. You started twisting your body. You flip the chair that was on its back to lay on its side. You began to slowly twist your hands and try to find a loose strap in your restraints.

⁘Translations⁘

Bist du schon wach, kleine Maus? - Are you awake yet, little mouse?

FrÀulein - Miss

Dein kleines Messer. - Your little knife.

Ja? - Yes?


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