|

❀ | ④

╔═════ °• ♔ •° ═════╗ 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 ╚═════ °• ♔ •° ═════╝

Delicate strokes to your hair woke you from your slumber. You grumbled, mind still disoriented. The hand sifting through your locks paused for a split second before continuing.

Blearily opening your eyes, you saw your mother, sat beside you on your bed, which you didn't remember getting into. She smiled down at you warmly, the crow's feet settled into the corners of her eyes adding a twinkle to her gaze.

"My daughter has finally awoken, I see," she chuckled. You squinted at her, not entirely hearing what she was saying, until you moved your upper body and rested your head on her lap. She laughed louder, allowing you to nestle comfortably against her.

"... time is it..?" You croaked, to tired to even bother forming a full sentence.

"Just past nine o'clock, dear. I'm surprised; usually you're up by eight." She raised a brow at you, but you ignored her, keeping your eyes closed. They felt sore and itchy, and most likely looked a soft shade of pink. You knew this.

"[Y/N], you need to wake up soon," there was a gentle nudge to your shoulder. "Your father has many things planned for you today."

You groaned loudly. That was the last thing you wanted. It was foolish to have it, but you had a small slither of hope left in you as you asked slowly:

"...Is he still here?"

A moment of silence, and then a sigh.

"You should have joined us for breakfast, dear. He truly is a nice fellow."

"No, he isn't." You sat up abruptly, turning away from her. A cold shiver ran through you as your arms became exposed. Glancing down, you saw you were wearing your night wear instead of your dress. It was then you realised your mind was on autopilot last night.

"[Y/N], please..."

"I'm not like you!" A stiff pause. "I can't see the good in people the way you do. So how do you expect me to see anything in him? A man who knows nothing of the world other than the fantasies he has been brought up with?"

You received no answer. Standing from your bed, you marched over to your dresser, pulling open the drawers. Something caught your eye, and you froze.

The vase you kept on your dresser was always empty. You came to dislike filling it with flowers, as the dying petals would always make a mess. It annoyed you to no end, how quickly flowers could wilt away. Too quickly.

But here, now, it was full. Fresh and vibrant hyacinths were placed in the vase, their petals bursting full of colour and life. They weren't leaning heavily to one side, like yours used to. They stood tall and proud, soaking up the sunlight just entering your room.

"Prince Karamatsu asked the maids to send these up to you." You flinched at the name.

"The only reason you cannot see the good in others is because you are always looking for the bad. If that's all you can see, then you will remain blind to the good." Your mother stood, leaving the room. Grasping the handle to your door, she looked back to you one more time, a smile still present. It looked all too familiar.

"He is not a bad person. Give him a chance."

The door shut behind her with a soft thud, leaving the room silent once more. You brought your gaze back to the flowers. They just had to be purple, didn't they?

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

"Horse riding?" you cringed. You eyed the horses with disdain, taking a step back as one of them shook their mane.

Your father came over to your side, hands on his hips as he smiled proudly at the selection of horses before him. Karamatsu was over by his own white-haired horse which had been brought over for him, busy patting its nuzzle with a fond smirk.

"But of course! The weather is perfect for it, don't you think?"

"No.." you grumbled under your breath, somewhat glad he hadn't heard you. Your father also went over to feed an apple to his horse, taking a brush and smoothing out its chestnut hair. You stood frigidly, unsure of what to do. You were desperate to walk back to the castle, but something was stopping you. And it was irritating you, how you couldn't figure out what it was.

Slowly, your eyes wandered around the stable, trailing over the golden hay scattered across the floor, to the resting horses, to the walls... then to him.

He didn't look any different from the first time you had met him. He looked so unbothered by the encounter he had with you last night, despite sending you those flowers. You found it unfair, how easy it was for him to hide his emotions like that.

Karamatsu felt something on him. He turned to you, his dark eyes connecting with your own and, for a split second, the world became still. There was no noise, no movement. Just the two of you, in a single frame. He nodded towards you, his smirk morphing into a smile.

"Princess—" You jolted, catching your surprised yelp before it could leave your throat. Your brow twitched as you turned on your heel, glowering at your butler.

"What?"

"M-My apologies!" Tanuki stammered, clearing his throat. "Your steed is ready for you, Princess," the older man bowed formally, guiding you out of the stable and onto the flat grassland. A black horse, a very strong looking one at that, stood idly before you, it's equally black eyes staring into nothing.

You grabbed a hold of Tanuki, pulling him to one side as you hissed into his ear.

"Tanuki, this is ridiculous!"

"I understand, but I am afraid there is nothing I can do, Princess..."

"Yes, there is! Take me to my study room!"

"Your father ordered me to keep you here for this activity, Princess," he sighed, eyeing you sympathetically. He gently coaxed your iron grip on his arm off of him, gesturing to the horse.

"You must brave through it."

He stepped away, just as your father and Karamatsu came out of the stables atop their horses, chatting away as they manoeuvred their beasts with ease. The twinge of jealousy you had felt before came back with full force, the burning fire of competition raging within you.

With new found resolution, you stepped up to the dark horse, stopping beside the saddle. You readied your hands against the leather, placing a foot in the small holster. Then, you paused. Then, you didn't move. Taking a deep breath, you willed yourself to push upwards and to sit on the damn horse, but your body wouldn't cooperate. The chatter from behind you had died down. Your brow twitched.

"My daughter, do you need some help?" You heard your father call, but you ignored him. You tried again with a huff, pushing up with all your might, barely lifting yourself off of the ground.

"Princess..."

"I don't need help!" You denied. You hated how your face burned in embarrassment. You felt like the court jester, making a complete fool of yourself. You knew this was a bad idea. How could your father have forgotten you didn't know how to ride a horse?

"Princess [Y/N]?"

"What?!"

You frustrated comments trailed off as a gloved hand was extended towards you. You followed it up, finding Karamatsu's kind face peering down at you.

"Perhaps it would be easier if you were to ride with me, instead?"

You were confused. What made him so different from everybody else? Why was he being so nice to you? You didn't need his pity, if that's what he was doing. You didn't need him to feel sorry for you. You didn't need him at all.

And yet, looking into his eyes, you saw no ill intent. Only a shimmer of hope. Hope for what? You couldn't understand. And you always understood everything.

You grit your teeth harshly.

With heavy reluctance, you grasped his outstretched palm, eyes widening by a fraction as he easily hauled you up to sit behind him, your skirts flowing off the side of his steed. Slowly, you placed your hands on his waist, not wanting to hold and be closer to him anymore than you already were.

"...Well, then," you father cleared his throat, stunned by what he had just witnessed, "Let's set off, shall we?" He tugged at his reigns, turning around and heading down the thin trail into the castle's forest. Karamatsu glanced back at you.

"Are you ready, Princess?"

"Just go already."

He chuckled softly in response, following behind the king. You wobbled in surprise at the sudden movement of the horse, gripping onto him just a tad bit tighter.

You peered around his broad shoulders, making sure that your father was out of earshot before you leaned up to his ear. You felt him shiver at the feeling of your warm breath hitting his skin. He tightened his hold on the reigns.

"Eh—?"

"Why purple? What do you have to be sorry for?"

「𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐲 ⇀ 𝑪. 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒐」

── ❝𝗜𝗧 𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗧' 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗠𝗘           𝗧𝗢 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘 𝗜𝗧 𝗢𝗨𝗧           𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗠𝗘           𝗧𝗢 𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗦𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛❞

     〡𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒐 𝑿 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓〡

◉ ┅ ┅ ┅ ┅ ┅ ┅ ┅ ┅ ┅

𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦

𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 - 𝟎𝟎𝟏

[ 1. ]  [ 2. ] [ 3. ]

quickly updating this, also adding a lil update message, feel free to ignore

heyy just wanted to say thank you for the kind messages and patience from you guys, it means a lot to me.

srry for the sudden disappearance, life has been pretty shite and thinsg r just getting more difficult, but i wanted to update you guys anyway, and say that im doing better than i was last month, haha

some good news, i have an ichimatsu x reader in the works, and a 'holiday' rewrite since i want to write it better and with actual story as well as a few changes to the whole romance side of things, not sure when i'll publish any of them though.

I rlly wanna come back from my hiatus, but it seems right now is not a good time, so i'll work on the stories that i can in the meantime and hopefully will come back soon

again, thank you for all the kind words and patience, u guys r amazing, hope ur all well and i'll see u soon :D

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

「𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 ⇀ 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒐」 [REWRITE, COMING SOON]

「𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 ⇀ 𝑶.𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒐」

「𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲 ⇀ 𝑲.𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒐」

「𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐲 ⇀ 𝑪. 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒐」

「𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐬 ⇀ 𝑰. 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒐」 [COMING SOON]

✧ Osomatsu - Consequences

"O-Okay, I'm sorry, please, I- Ah!" Your plea quickly merged into a desperate moan, the feeling of Osomatsu's wet muscle rubbing against your clit overwhelming you.

"I don't think you're being very sincere, babe," He muttered against your throbbing pussy, half-lidded eyes staring into your own.

"No, I-I am! I didn't mean to- Ah! Haa..." you were a moaning mess all over again. Your back arched as Osomatsu's tongue swept over your entrance again and again, a thumb teasingly circling your sensitive nub.

"Really?" He drawled, expression not changing in the slightest.

"Then beg."

And so you did as he began to eat you out relentlessly, not giving you a chance to even form a coherent sentence.

Your fingers tangled into his softer hair, tugging at them as a sign for him to stop. Yet he didn't. He ignored your actions, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pulled you closer to his mouth, hot and warm against your slit.

It was all too much for you. Overwhelming. Your body was on fire, your fingers hurt from clenching the sheets beneath you until your knuckles turned white. Your chest was heaving as you desperately tried to gasp for air, only for it to be ripped away from you as a moan forced its way out of your throat.

He was too much. And the bastard knew it.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew you deserved some kind of punishment. You knew the guy at the bar was flirting with you, and being a little tipsy as you were, you thought it was a good idea to flirt back. It's not like you were going to let it lead to anything; you just thought it was funny how the guy was so hooked onto you.

Clearly, though, you didn't think of the consequences. Not that you minded them.

Suddenly, you felt Osomatsu slip a finger into you, and then another, pumping in and out as he continued to suckle on your bundle of nerves. Your legs were thrown over his shoulders to give him better access, and you couldn't help but squeeze your thighs around his head.

Soon enough, you were begging again. Not for him to forgive you, though.

"Oso- Osomatsu.. Please, I- fuck-" your voice was broken and trembling, mind hazy from the lust that clouded over you. All you wanted now was sweet release.

"Please let me cum, please please, Osomatsu-!" You were almost screaming now, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as the knot in your loins threatened to come undone.

The deep groan from Osomatsu that vibrated against your pussy was enough to make you spill, your body spasming as you came around Osomatsu's fingers. He continued to eat you out through your orgasm, licking and biting to coax more from you.

Your body finally went limp, breaths heavy from your mouth. Your hips were slowly let down onto the bed, Oso's hands retreating from your tired figure for a moment. A small smile crossed your lips, and you raised your arms blindly for Osomatsu to cuddle into.

"I don't think you were begging for what you supposed to be begging for, doll."

His serious tone made your eyes hesitantly open, looking over to see that he was unbuckling his belt, his brows furrowed in annoyance.

"You really think I'm going to let you off so easily?" He hovered over your form, his lips grazing over the sensitive area of your neck.

"Let me tell you something, princess." He suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist, hoisting you up off the bed and over his shoulder. You gasped, squeaking pathetically at the sudden movement.

"I'm gonna bend you over every flat surface in this damn house, and make sure you remember that you belong to me. You aren't gonna be walking straight for a fucking week, got that, babe?"

✧ Osomatsu - Cool down

"[Y/N]-chaaaan..." Osomatsu whined from beside you, crawling across the couch to rest his chin on your lap.

Glancing down at him, you returned your gaze back to your phone as you hummed, letting him know you were listening. He didn't seem satisfied with that, however, and he placed his entire upper half of his body into your lap, effectively squashing your legs.

"[Y/N]! Stop ignoring meee!" He cried, pouting his cheeks. Sighing, you turned your phone off and put it onto the table in front of you before running a hand through his brown locks.

"I'm not ignoring you, you idiot. What is it?" You grinned slightly as you watched his face morph into a content smile, nuzzling his head into your gentle caresses.

"It's so hot in here, right?" He mumbled after a small pause. A lazy grin stretched onto his lips as he peered up at you through lidded eyes. "D'you think you could get me some ice?"

Face blank, you stared at him, his grin never faltering.

"...You know you could get it yourself?" You pointed out, only to receive a shrug in response.

"I know, but we're at your apartment. I'm the guest, y'know?" He chuckled. You rolled your eyes, pushing him off of you and reluctantly getting off the couch, mumbling:

"How do I even put up with you, again?"

"Cuz you know you love me!" He called after you as you entered the kitchen. You couldn't help but smile secretly at that. For once, he was right.

A few moments later, you returned to your living room with two bowls of ice in hand, making sure to hold the edges of the bowl so that your hands wouldn't freeze.

Osomatsu had made himself comfortable (obviously) by laying his legs onto the couch, allowing his upper body to fall off onto the floor. His cheeks were slightly red from all the blood rushing to his head, but he was still smiling childishly. Upon seeing you enter the room, his eyes lit up and he quickly swung himself back into a normal seated position.

He patted the spot beside him enthusiastically, making you raise a brow.

"Are you really that desperate for some ice?" You teased, setting the bowls down.

"You bet!" He giggled, rubbing a finger under his nose mischievously. Sighing out a laugh, you picked up a cube of ice and popped it into your mouth, feeling relieved as your face began to cool down a little.

"Ah, but [Y/N]?" He called, and you hummed in acknowledgment again.

"..I don't want ice from this bowl."

Confused, you looked over to him, only to be pushed down onto the couch by the shoulders. You felt a weight on your legs, and you realised that Osomatsu had straddled you. A blush crept onto your face, as well as his, and you waited anxiously for him to do something.

"I want my ice from here," he spoke lowly, and lowered his lips into yours.

Almost instantly, he pried your lips apart and slipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring your cool cavern with force. Your hands clutched the back of his red hoodie, fingers trembling slightly at the feeling of him against you.

He placed his thumb onto your chin and moved you away slowly, leaving the both of you panting heavily as you tried to bring oxygen back into your bodies. Both of your faces were flushed by now, although Osomatsu was still grinning boyishly down at you.

"Thanks for the ice, [Y/N]-chan," he purred, the nickname causing you to blush further.

Osomatsu made no move to get off of you, but it's not like you wanted him to. Instead, he swallowed his piece of ice and reached over to grab another one.

He held it up to his lips, rubbing the ice along them gently, and you watched as small drops of liquid began to trickle down his chin. Chuckling again, he called out to you, grabbing your attention.

"C'mon, [Y/N]-chan. Are you really going to let me get away with stealing your ice like that? I thought you would put up more of a fight..."

Pushing the ice past his lips, he leaned closer to you once more. You couldn't help but notice something hard brush against your thigh, and Osomatsu made no move to hide it.

You gasped lightly as he grounded his hips softly against yours, his dark eyes watching your facial expression carefully.

"Here..." he mumbled.

"I'll let you take one from me, yeah?"

He descended onto you once again, his hands wandering your body shamelessly, causing your thighs to shake in anticipation.

The ice in your bowls were beginning to melt as the room grew ever more heated. Looks like you'll have to get more later if you wanted to continue.

[ 2. ]

Ichimatsu shut the door behind him with a sigh, removing his gloves and tossing them into a trash can nearby. He rubbed at the back of his neck, half-lidded eyes glancing back to the door briefly before turning away.

"How'd it go?" Osomatsu had seated himself in his chair, watching his younger brother lean on the wall across from him. Karamatsu was sat to his right, and Choromatsu to his left, both equally curious as to how the treatment had gone.

"..She's all patched up."

"...That's it?" Choromatsu deadpanned. "That's all you're gonna tell us?"

"How is her condition?" Karamatsu rephrased. "What are her injuries?"

Ichimatsu shoved his hands into his pockets, gaze stuck to the ground. A familiar ginger cat slinked into the room, twisting itself around his legs before settling down beside him. The comfort of a close friend made Ichimatsu feel slightly more at ease.

"Her right wrist is sprained, and her left shoulder was dislocated," the brothers winced, "Luckily, she didn't get any broken ribs, but she was probably close to it. She's got bruises and swelling, mostly around her neck and upper body, and skin burns from the rope. Her lip's busted, too, so it's got some stitching. And..."

He cut himself off with another sigh, shuffling his feet around. Osomatsu raised a brow, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"And' what? What else is there?"

The silence was tense, and much too long for the men to sit through. Choromatsu's leg began to bounce slightly as he waited for an answer, his patience wearing thinner by the second.

Ichimatsu fiddled with his earring, flicking the golden hoop a few times before running his hand through his curvy locks.

"She's.. also got loads of scars. They ain't fresh, either."

"Scars..? From what?" Karamatsu pushed. Ichimatsu only shrugged.

"Dunno. But there's a shit tonne on her back. Big ones."

The brothers looked at each other wearily, unsure of how to react. It was already bad enough that you had been taken hostage and beaten to near death, but now this?

Osomatsu stood up suddenly, eyes closed in thought.

"Well, it's not like any of us don't have scars. So it's not a big deal."

"Osomatsu.." Karamatsu sighed. Sometimes, his brothers didn't realise how insensitive they could be.

"Whenever she wakes up, let one of us know, it doesn't matter who," he continued, nodding to Ichimatsu. "We'll get the questions out of the way so that she can rest."

Grunting in affirmation, Ichimatsu headed towards his small tray of medical supplies, moving them towards a sink in order to clean off the blood. Your blood. Osomatsu left, and Karamatsu followed not soon after, wanting to take a breather out on the balcony.

"..You're still here."

The statement caught Choromatsu off guard for a second, but he quickly regained his composure. He raised a brow to his younger brother, leaning back into his chair and whipping out his phone to go through absentmindedly.

"Yeah." He replied shortly, leaving no room for argument as he focused back onto his phone, scrolling through random social media and notifications. Ichimatsu glared at him before going back to his task.

Choromatsu glanced at the door. You were behind it, laying on a bed, sleeping soundly through the pain. For now.

The same feeling as before came bubbling up to his throat, filling his senses with a sort of worrying feeling. He grit his teeth tightly. If he was being honest, he didn't like this feeling. Not one bit. Ever since he laid eyes on your broken form, the feeling wouldn't go away.

This was bad. Very bad.

And yet, he stayed in his seat. Waiting for you to wake up so that he could see you first.

——————☠︎——————

[ —

You were remembering a time where the sun was bright, and the grass beneath your fingers was a vivid green. There were mumbled words echoing around you, and you looked towards the hazy sky, a plain azure stretching as far as the eye could see.

There was a ball in your small hands. Its canary yellowed stripes across the white background gleamed brighter the longer you stared in confusion, unsure of what you were supposed to do with it.

Your name was called, distorted and far away, carrying itself in the wind until it reached your ears. It was telling you to throw the ball towards them. Somewhere ahead of you. The sunlight reflected into your eyes, removing your ability to see who was there.

But you threw it anyway, putting all your strength into your arms, eyes screwed shut in determination. There was the sound of the hollow, plastic ball bouncing along the ground until it came to a stop. There was laughter, drifting further away from you. Your lower lip curled into a pout — why couldn't you see where it was coming from?

' You did so well! '

Where had you heard that voice before?

' Come here, throw it again, sweetheart! '

Okay, you thought to respond. You felt the buzz of words on the tip of your tongue, however your mouth failed to move. Regardless, your stubby legs stumbled forward, arms reaching out to grasp at whatever had hidden itself behind the veil of light, fingers curling and unfurling around nothing but air. The sky was fading into a pure white, obscuring your view, yet you pressed onwards.

You were becoming desperate now, calling out for whoever was there. Their name was on your lip, resting right on the edge, you knew it, but it didn't fall. Your throat was tightening as tears of frustration welled in the corners of your eyes. The luminosity was becoming blinding, and the grass no longer tickled at your skin. Your eyes fell closed as you felt the warmth of the sun dissipate, the air becoming colder and more frigid.

Where was the voice? Where was it? Where?

Silence greeted you as an old friend. You found yourself unable to move, arms stuck to your sides and legs tucked under you as they became numb. You had opened your eyes and you still found darkness. Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach, thundering against your body as you held your breath.

You were sure you had called out for that voice. There was no response. There was never a response.

A deafening clang of metal sounded from behind you, and your heart had now leapt to your throat, mixed with a sickening concoction of bile that threatened to spill if it was pushed just enough.

Deep footsteps, weighted and unwavering. They rounded your left, stopping in front of you, too close for you to be comfortable with. The muddied boots that were now in your vision suddenly and unexplainably terrified you. What could be so frightening about a pair of boots?

And then, when an unforgiving hand grasped at your strands and lifted your face upward ever so slowly, you realised. For it wasn't the boots that terrified you, but the one who was wearing them.

You were sure that the bloodied smirk on the face in the shadows was the last thing you would see before death became permanently splintered across your cheek.

— ]

Your cheek throbbed painfully as you snapped your eyes open, pupils contracting dangerously thin as they darted around the unfamiliar room.

A cold sweat had made itself known as you shuddered, coating your skin in goose-bumps whilst your tried to find your bearings.

That same light bore down on your eyes painfully, the burn making you flinch to keep your eyes closed, but you knew you had to keep them open. You had to know where you were. You had to know what was going on.

Willing the fog of confusion to remove itself from your mind was no easy feat, and the heavy breaths that left your chest heaving made you all the more lightheaded. Your vision began to blur, your teeth gritting in shame. You hated crying. You didn't want to cry anymore. Tears, however, have minds of their own, and they made that clear as they traversed down your temple and clung to your hair, some even making it down to your lip, the twinge of salt making you grimace.

It hurt to breath. Every inch of your body felt as if it were on fire, prickling and feverish, in desperate need of relief. Your parched throat begged for a sip of water, but your arms were still restricted from movement. Your left arm in particular felt rigid, with only your fingers being just about moveable.

Sudden flashes of memory that supposedly lead you to your current position appeared before your eyes. The gruesome feeling of bones cracking and blood bursting from your torn skin made you squirm. You didn't want to go through that again. You would do anything to not go through that again.

The room around you was morphed and irregular, the double vision that swirled your eyes together faintly fading in and out. You could barely make out the shape of the rectangular door in the far right corner of the room, it's golden handle glinting ahead of you.

It was then that you heard the numerous garbled voices sounding from the other side of the door. With each pump of your heart, they got closer and closer, your panic increasing at the thought of whoever it was entering the room.

It was too late, though. The handle had already begun to turn, the small crack between the doorframe growing larger, enabling the voices to now be heard clearer in your ears.

There were three men, none of them looking your way as they seemed too preoccupied in the conversation they were having. A small whimper escaped your throat at the sight of unfamiliar people coming close to you, and you struggled harder to move away from them, knowing all too well that you wouldn't be moving anywhere.

You came to an immediate halt as their heads turned to you synchronously, watching you with slight surprise in their eyes.

They hadn't expected you to be awake so soon. Taking your dishevelled appearance — from the tangled mess of hair on your scalp to your torn clothing and bandaged limbs — one man stepped forward and away from his small group. He slowed his movements upon seeing your chest rapidly rising and falling, your swollen lower lip wobbling with worry.

Your mind vaguely registered the gentle smile he gave you, raising his hands in surrender. Your eyes trailed down the beginnings of a blue scale-like tattoo on his upper arms, disappearing under the black shirt he wore before reappearing on his exposed chest.

"We aren't here to hurt you, my dear."

His tone was low, gently reverberating through your nerves. The soothing baritone in his voice calmed you for a short second, and you watched as he crept closer to your bedside, not stopping until he hovered over you. His dark eyed swept over your injuries, thick brows furrowing as he looked back into your eyes.

"Do you remember your name, flower?" Lowering his voice to a murmur, he waited patiently for an answer. You cast your sight towards the other two men in the room, who were stood silently by the door, watching you. One of them appeared to be scowling at the man beside you, whilst the other crossed his arms over his chest, fingers tapping impatiently against his bicep. He caught your eye before turning away, the frown on his lips tightening further.

Speaking was a difficult task in itself. Your throat was parched, leaving your tongue dry and voice croaky. You stammered your name out as clearly as you could with a small nod of your head, shuddering pained gasps as your lips ached with each formation of words.

The man's smile returned, relief evident on his face as he moved away from you. He wasn't speaking to you now, but to the men at the door.

"I feel it would be best to sit her up," he gestured to the bed you lay in.

"...Don't put too much pressure onto her." The man with his curling locks tied back into a messy ponytail and tired eyes mumbled brief instructions, not making a move to leave his spot. The man beside him sighed with a tut, grumbling as he made his way to the left side of your bed.

You eyed him warily, looking back to the tattooed-man for reassurance.

"You're safe here, darling. No harm will come to you here," he spoke to you whilst manoeuvring his larger hands under your back from the left. "We only wish to help you."

The sincerity in his words rolled over like honey, oozing sweet kindness and glowing golden. Tears sprung to your eyes once more — you could trust this man.

Once they had you sat up (with only a small amount of struggle to not hurt your further), a glass of water was held close to your lips, the tattooed-man urging you to take a sip. You wrapped your lips around the rim of the glass hesitantly, but as soon as the first drop of cool water fell down your throat, you began gulping down the drink in one go, desperate for that cooling relief on your throat and mind.

The man settled the glass down on the bedside table before taking a seat in an empty chair behind him, crossing one leg over the other as he took a deep breath.

"[L/N] [Y/N]," he began. You looked over to him in worry, his serious tone making you expect the worst. "If it's alright with you, we would like to ask you a few questions."

...Questions? You tilted your head slightly, shuffling your back against the large fluffy pillows resting behind you.

"About what..?" Your voice was doing a lot better than before, still holding a slight rasp in your words. You cleared your throat as discreetly as you could, unable to cover your mouth as your arms felt so heavy.

"About the events you have just been through. You do remember what happened to you, yes?"

The very mention of recalling such memories made you visibly shudder. Nodding hesitantly, you concluded that you couldn't exactly get out of this. You were stuck there until they decided to let you go, and until then, you would just have to go along with what they asked.

'Who knows what will happen if I don't listen..' you thought, an undertone if bitterness lacing into your mind.

"Before we begin, I believe introductions are in order." He placed a hand over his chest, bowing his head politely. "My name is Laamcung. Pleasure to meet you, my sweet." The continuous use of pet names baffled you, unsure as to why he kept using them on you, but you brushed it aside for the sake of not pissing him off.

There was a moment silence before Laamcung sighed. He pointedly looked towards the other two men by the door, who rolled their eyes at him.

"Ceoicung." The man wearing a black V-neck t-shirt quickly spat his name out, not even bothering to look at you. The one beside him, with the curly hair and golden hoop in his ear, seemed to shrink into himself as all eyes turned to him. He appeared to want to be anywhere but in that room.

"...Zicung.." you were barley to catch his name with how low he had mumbled it. Laamcung sighed, smiling apologetically to you.

"My apologies, dearest. My brothers aren't exactly the best at formal introductions, but I assure you, they are nicer than they appear to be."

You didn't entirely believe him, but it was better to nod along and not question anything at all. You briefly acknowledged the fact that they were brothers, realising that it only made sense, seeing as they had very similar faces. Triplets weren't too uncommon.

Laamcung readjusted his legs, switching from his right leg resting over his left to his left over his right, pressing his hands over the curve of his knee.

"I understand that you may not feel comfortable recalling such events," Laamcung began, "But I must ask you to tell us what happened. From before you were kidnapped to when you know it ended, and anything that you think could have lead to you being a target. All of this information is vital, angel, so I must implore that you tell us everything that comes to mind."

The pressure placed back onto you mentally was heavy. He was right, it was going to be extremely uncomfortable for you to talk. You didn't know if you could do it.

"..Hey. We don't have all day."

Zicung's rough growl of annoyance made you shrivel up, forcing yourself to swallow your nerves so as not to tick him off.

"Zicung." Laamcung sent him a stern glare, silencing his brother with a word of warning. You saw Ceoicung dig an elbow into the man's rib, keeping him quiet. "Take your time, [L/N]. Ignore him, there's no rush."

Nevertheless, you wanted to get this over and done with. Forcing yourself to take a deep breath, you kept your eyes glued to your left arm, apparently finding the sling and bandage around the limb to be very interesting as you spoke.

"I don't know how I got there... Nothing out of the ordinary has happened before I was t-taken, so I don't know what could have led to this happening.." you furrowed your brows. It was the truth, and the more you thought back on the day before your kidnapping, the more you became confused. Why were you a target? Was it because you were an easy catch? Was it because you were a nobody, so it wouldn't cause a big fuss? Why, out of the thousands of people in Cekcung, were you taken away from your normal life and thrown into this hell?

"All I know is that I went to bed like I always do, and the next time I woke up, I wasn't at home anymore."

The three brothers glanced at one another. It all sounded like a simple coincidence, then, that you had been a victim to their enemy, Reznov. But if they knew the sly man, then they knew that it was anything but a coincidence. He always had a motive, whether it was complex or downright stupid, it didn't matter to him — a motive was a motive.

"Has anything happened to you throughout this week, then? Or even before that?"

"..I'm sorry, I don't really understand what you mean."

"Have you done anything to piss anyone off." Ceoicung was now the one to cut in bluntly. You chanced a glance up to him, and upon finding his narrowed eyes boring down onto your face, you decided to stick with looking at your bandages. Hmm, yes, this bandage was so interesting to you.

Your mind reeled back to yesterday, then the day before, and then jumping to the week before that, your brain filling with images of merging memories of anything you could think of, before you stilled.

There was something.

"...I think so."

The brothers raised a brow to you, leaning in slightly to catch onto every word you were going to say.

"I run a small bakery, and that day about a week ago, I hadn't gotten much sleep, so I was out of it for most of the day.." the more you spoke, the more that sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach seemed to grow. How had you not noticed it before?

"I kept making a few slip ups here and there while I was working; I just couldn't seem to concentrate very well. But luckily, a lot of the customers that came in were regulars, so they didn't really say anything. Until, this one customer.." You struggled to remember his face for a moment, the first thing you remembered about him though was that he was tall, almost tall enough to brush his head against the short ceiling in your shop.

"He ordered something, and I must've messed up the order, since he suddenly started yelling at me once he opened the box. I was so tired, though, so I wasn't really paying attention.. I don't remember much of what he was saying, and he just got angrier.."

You remembered him slamming his fist down hard onto the counter top, the way the change in the cash register clattered loudly in its metal box ringing in your ears.

"All I remember him saying is... I-Is.." your throat closed up again, and the urge to bury your face into your hands was strong. Squeezing your eyes shut, you recalled what he looked like, now. His features were all to familiar. Especially that same, dark, twisted smile he had sent your way before he made his way out of the shop, muttering the words that had allowed you to get caught up in this mad, crazed world.

'Looks like I found myself the perfect ragdoll to play with.'