Biting their necks (Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon, Thirteen, Mephistopheles)
What would happen if you bit their necks with no warning?
(Barbatos x gn!MC) (Simeon x gn!MC) (Solomon x gn!MC) (Thirteen x gn!MC) (Mephistopheles x gn!MC)
(suggestive)
Word Count: +2,800 (Simeon got +800. Oops)
Barbatos
Baking sessions – or lessons, depending on your skill level – were a good excuse to monopolize a bit of Barbatos’s time. It was just the two of you in the kitchen. He was at the stove, keeping a close eye on the caramel, occasionally brushing the side of the pot with water to prevent scorching. You neglected your station to get behind him and wrap your arms around his waist.
Barbatos chuckled. “Did you finish cutting out the dough?”
“I got distracted by how cute you look when you’re in the kitchen. I know I can’t steal you away from Diavolo forever, so just let me have this,” you spoke softly against his shoulder.
“I’m cute? You are the only one I’d let say that.”
“You’re so cute – adorable, even.”
You inched closer to him, and without warning, you bit his neck – just above his collar. Knowing that Barbatos may get upset if you marked him, your teeth barely grazed his skin, but the sensation of your hot breath was enough to make him shiver slightly in your arms. It was a shame how much skin he had covered; there were only so many places you could tease him directly.
“Do you find me so irresistible that you intend to gobble me up?” he asked playfully. His face took on a light shade of pink, yet he still had the sense to stir the cream and butter into the caramel, creating a beautiful silky consistency. You watched him work for a minute.
“If I said yes?”
“I would welcome it – that is, I want it just as much as you do.” You felt his tail wrap around your ankle teasingly. “But I beg that you wait until after we’ve finished baking.”
“Oh, you’re no fun,” you cooed into his ear, “but how could I possibly deny your begging?”
“I’ll make it worth the wait. You have my word.” He lifted the pot off the burner, and you took that as your cue to let him go. He turned around, expecting to need to coax you into finishing cutting out the cookies. Slightly surprised, he questioned you: “oh, you did finish cutting out the dough, then? I thought you said you got distracted.”
“I wouldn’t disappoint my favorite man.” However, telling him that you had finished your task and just wanted to hold him didn’t sound as sweet as telling him he was distractingly cute. “You know, that look of surprise on your face is cute, too.”
Before he could respond, the oven dinged, signaling that it had finished preheating. Barbatos poured the caramel into a bowl to cool while you placed the sheet of cookies in the oven. He cleared his throat. “I suppose if you would like, I could indulge you for a few minutes now – just while the cookies bake.”
“So generous.” You pulled him into you, hands quick to unbutton his shirt.
Simeon
If one more demon brother bothered you today, you were going to set something – or someone – on fire. Luckily, Simeon was happy to host you for the afternoon; he didn’t even scold you about making threats of arson.
In the quiet peace that Simeon’s room held, your reading was interrupted by Simeon stretching at his desk – by no fault of his own, really. The lines of his body were so pretty. Maybe you still had some aggression in you that fed your urge to sneak up on him as he continued to write.
Simeon had barely acknowledged your proximity when you leaned down and bit him just above his collar. You heard a sharp inhale leave him, but the way he craned his neck away from you, giving you better access, indicated that he didn’t have any protests. He stopped writing, and you heard his pen drop on the desk. You took the opportunity to kiss down his shoulder and leave a mark there, too. Finally, you were able to pull a soft moan from his lips – stifled as it was.
“H-hey.” His voice was more complaisant than objecting. “Is this supposed to be my reward for letting you hide out in my room?”
“No. You were just too pretty to resist.” You kissed the bite mark on his shoulder, then the one on his neck, before you whispered in his ear, “would you like a proper reward?”
Simeon mulled the words over. “Perhaps.”
You left Purgatory Hall a few hours later, sneaking out without anyone noticing. Simeon returned to writing shortly after. He stayed preoccupied until Luke called him in for dinner.
When Simeon joined Luke and Solomon at the table, he had forgotten all about his bite marks. Luke stared at him, horrified. “Simeon! What happened to you?”
The realization hit Simeon like a cement block. Internally, he freaked out, grasping for anything while Solomon sat there, amused, and refusing any assistance. What Simeon landed on was a disgrace to him as an author: he accidentally turned you into a vampire with a spell while studying. You were so thirsty, and he didn’t know how to reverse the spell right away, so he let you drink some of his blood.
With his clumsy lie settled, Simeon quickly sent you a text to warn you about his story, begging you to go along with it.
MC: Wow. Why’d you have to do me dirty like that?
Simeon: Do you want to explain to Luke why you really gave me a hickey?
MC: Two. But no. Good luck!
Immediately after, you got a text from Luke, asking how you could bite poor Simeon. You apologized. Luckily, Luke forgave you; it was an accident, after all, but he asked you to be more careful next time. You were definitely going to be more careful.
“Mind telling me what spell you used there, Simeon?” Solomon asked, holding back a snicker. “Maybe I should try it out.”
“Solomon, no!” Luke protested. “You can’t just turn MC into a vampire.”
“Calm down, Luke. I always get consent first.”
“That doesn’t matter!”
“It matters quite a lot,” Solomon smirked. Simeon had enough and kicked Solomon under the table with a look on his face that a parent might give an older sibling who can’t hold their tongue.
When Raphael walked into the dining room, Simeon hoped he would be spared from his torment. He wasn’t.
“Where’d you get a hickey from, Simeon?” Raphael asked nonchalantly.
“MC bit him,” Luke explained on Simeon’s behalf as Simeon seemed reluctant to speak.
“Oh, they got to you too?”
“What?” The word fell from the other three in varying degrees of shock.
Raphael shrugged. “What?”
The texts came rolling in again.
Luke: Why did you drink from both Simeon and Raphael?
Shit. You had to think fast.
MC: I didn’t want to take too much blood from either one, so I tried to take a small amount from both of them. I’m so, so sorry.
Luke: Oh. I guess that was nice of you. But please don’t do any more vampire spells, okay?
Solomon also sent you a text: Want to suck my blood too, MC? 🖤
Before you could think of an appropriate response to Solomon’s flirting, a new message from Simeon popped up. This was more urgent than Solomon’s shamelessness.
Simeon: “I’m sorry. Next time, I’ll remember to cover up – unless you wish to bite me somewhere less conspicuous, that is. Still, somehow, I’m glad you were the one who bit me this time. I can’t imagine how furious Luke would be at me if I was the one to bite you. He’s quite overprotective, isn’t he? However, I think I owe you. A mark for a mark. Perhaps I should throw in an extra one on Raphael’s behalf. Doesn’t that sound fair?”
You were in for it now.
Solomon
Mammon had told you that Asmo gave Solomon a hickey earlier that day. You didn’t know where Mammon was getting his information, but that did sound like something Asmo would do. Still, it made you a little jealous – not because Asmo had done that, but because you wanted to give Solomon a hickey too.
It was fortunate, then, that you had a study session with Solomon planned today. It was less fortunate for your grades and magical abilities that the only thing you had been studying since you showed up in Solomon’s room was his neck. That damn turtleneck wasn’t revealing anything.
Solomon noticed you had been watching him more intensely than usual. It was flattering, but you weren’t making any moves on him, and he was feeling impatient. “Is there something wrong? You keep staring at me.”
“Could you sit down for a minute?” you asked him.
Finally, he thought optimistically. Solomon took a seat on his couch. You walked over to him and hooked a finger under his collar, slowly pulling it down. Nothing. You checked the other side. Still nothing. Heat rose in Solomon’s cheeks.
“MC, what are you doing?”
“Quiet,” you hushed him and checked the other side of his neck again, pulling his collar down a bit lower than before. Where was it? It was a weird thing for Mammon to lie about, but perhaps he was just mistaken. Still, even if Asmo hadn’t gotten to Solomon’s neck recently, you figured it would be a waste to just leave him unscathed. You might as well use your blank canvas.
You leaned down and bit his neck, sucking his skin – trying to mark him as yours. He whimpered at the sudden pain.
When you finally pulled away and inspected the pretty red mark on him, you noticed how flustered his face was.
“How did you expect me to stay quiet while you did something like that?” Solomon ran his fingers over the mark and accompanying teeth indents. “I don’t mind, but what’s gotten into you?”
“Mammon told me that Asmo gave you a hickey. I had to check, but I guess he was wrong. When I thought about Asmo getting to mark you,” you paused, “well, I wanted to mark you too.”
“Oh, he’s not wrong. Asmo did leave me with a hickey. I got rid of it with magic earlier today.” He laughed. “Honestly, MC. If I knew you were the jealous, possessive type, I would have let Asmo play around with me a bit more.”
“I’m not jealous per se. I just wanted to leave my mark on you.”
“You have.” He took your hand sweetly and added, “but I’ll make sure not to heal yours with magic. It’s a shame that you left it below my collar, though. I’d like to show off. Maybe you could leave a few more.”
Thirteen
When Thirteen invited you to her cave, you didn’t expect to find her distracted by her newest trap. The last time she invited you over, she greeted you at the entrance and guided you around. Maybe you had gotten your hopes up too much. It wasn’t as if she promised to give you her undivided attention.
“Work, you little fucker,” she cursed under her breath at the trap on her lap as she unscrewed the back panel yet again.
Your shoulders slumped, and you pouted slightly. This might take a while, you realized. Thirteen wasn’t particularly aggressive around you, but you could feel her tension in the room. Between that and your mounting boredom, you stood up.
“I’m going to take a walk,” you informed her. “You seem a bit busy.”
Shit. That sounded passive aggressive. Maybe you meant to be. She was the one who invited you over. It was reasonable to be a bit irritated. Regardless, it was effective. Your words hit her, and Thirteen almost dropped the tools in her hands – tightening her grip just before the pliers and screwdriver slipped from her grasp. She set her tools and her latest trap on the table quickly before standing up.
“Baby, no, wait. Come here.” Thirteen opened her arms wide for a hug, wanting you to come back into her embrace. You conceded, and once you were close enough, she pulled you against her body. “Sorry. I should have finished this before you showed up. I just had some last-minute issues, and I was in the zone. But he can wait. I promise.”
You buried your face in Thirteen’s neck. How was it possible for a reaper living in a cave to smell so sweet? You bit her softly as revenge for her neglect. She let out a startled yelp, but she didn’t stop holding you until you released her skin. Her breath was shaky, and her face was pink when she asked, “what was that for?”
“Punishment,” you admitted. “Is that okay?”
Thirteen laughed and pulled you backwards in the direction of her bed. Despite the fact that she was the one walking backwards, you nearly tumbled over her when she plopped down. You barely stopped yourself by putting your knee at the edge of her bed – right between her legs. She met your gaze when you stared down at her.
“Well? What are you waiting for?” Her pupils dilated, and the faint blush still sat on her cheeks. “Punish me more.”
Mephistopheles
“Why are you in the RAD Newspaper Club room again? I don’t remember inviting a foolish human to distract me today.” Mephisto sighed and scanned over a draft of an article on the new exhibit at the botanical garden. Technically, he had invited you to visit him earlier in the week “if you wanted to see how much effort goes into [his] work,” but he had clearly forgotten in his resolution to being a grump today. “You know little about the Devildom, and I don’t require your assistance. So, I invite you to get out.”
Sometimes his commitment to being a dick was tiring – especially when you were fully aware that he held some strong, affectionate feelings for you underneath it. Hell, he had glanced in your direction three times already, and they were not glances that suggested he wanted you to leave. If he wanted to play his little games, you could at least chastise him a bit – well, a bite.
“Alright, I’ll go, but first,” you left him in anticipation as you walked around his desk and leaned down behind him. You sank your teeth into the side of his neck, earning an adorably pained groan. Served him right.
As soon as you let go, Mephisto shot up from his chair. That was your cue to run. You rushed out of the room and hurried down the hall before he could finish telling you to “get back here this instant.”
You ran, stupidly glancing back just in time to bump into something solid. When you turned back to where you should have been looking, you were met with Lucifer’s confused face.
“Why are you running in the hall? What’s gotten into you? Are you alright?” Lucifer held you firmly in place by the shoulders. He was searching your eyes with concern. It was sweet of him to be worried, but you didn’t have time to stand around being worried over when the click of Mephisto’s heels was quickly approaching. He wasn’t running – but those long legs hastened his pace. He was like Michael Myers with a bit more urgency. “MC. What is it? Answer me.”
Lucifer’s concern had stalled you enough for Mephisto to catch up. He grabbed you by the back of the collar and pulled you out of Lucifer’s grasp.
“Wait,” Lucifer demanded. “What are you doing?"
“I’m taking this,” Mephisto informed him without turning around as he dragged you in the opposite direction. “It’s mine.”
Lucifer felt a portion of his brain die off. He swiftly turned on his feet and walked away. He was not dealing with this today.
“Can you let me go?” you asked Mephisto while squirming in his grip.
“If you don’t come willingly, I’ll throw you over my shoulder.”
“Are you even that strong?”
Mephisto’s eyes widened as if you had insulted him. You might as well have called him a weakling. He took your words as a challenge and pulled you into the nearest empty classroom. Once inside, he locked the door and held you close with one hand on the back of your head and the other on your back. Before you could register what happened, Mephisto had dropped you to the ground, landing over you, straddling your hips. His hands had protected your head and back from harsh contact with the floor.
“Ow. That still hurt my butt, you know?” You stared up at him. It actually didn’t hurt that much, but you wanted to complain.
“I’ll kiss it better later if you need me to, you big baby.” Mephisto sighed and pinned your hands to the side. “Strong enough for you?”
You made a half-hearted attempt to struggle. “Point taken; now you can get off.”
“Oh, no, I can’t.” Mephisto let you go with a smirk. He loosened his tie and started to unbutton his shirt. “We need to finish what you started, foolish human.”
(Mammon, Satan, Beelzebub, Diavolo, Raphael version)
(Lucifer, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Belphegor version)
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Short fic: Mafia AU | Jumin
I saw this artwork by @ranartinart and got inspired to write something short for my love, Jumin Han ;w; Thank you for your lovely art! :)
Reposted with permission from @ranartinart <3 Check it out here!
Wrote this fic while listening to this playlist ♪( ´θ`)ノ
Trigger Warning: Violence
Story under the cut! This was purely self-indulgent haha! I feel as though I'm a little rusty with mysme so apologies in advance if it feels ooc ^^;; Enjoy~
★・・・・・・★
His precise steps against the marbled floor echo through the hallway. He isn't in a hurry; in fact, he takes his time, allowing the rage to bubble up inside him. He keeps his expression composed though, his head held high, his cold, steely eyes staring straight ahead, at the door on the end of the hallway.
Men and women bow to him as he passes, all of them avoiding his gaze. Finally, he reaches the door and his men open the door for him. Assistant Kang sees the man kneeling in the middle of the room, a few bruises already visible on his face and arms. She feels no pity for him, especially after he'd attempted to kidnap MC. Though MC was unharmed, Jaehee knows that this man will probably die here tonight. Honestly, he had a far better chance of surviving had he attempted to kill her boss, the mafia king of South Korea. But attacking his wife? His queen?
Jaehee looks at him with disdain as Jumin hands her his coat.
"Good riddance," she thinks to herself, turning on her heel. She makes a small gesture and the guards in the room follow her out, leaving Jumin alone with the man.
Jumin carefully folds his sleeves up, watching the man with cold, calculating eyes. The man glares at him, his hands bound behind his back.
"You motherfucker. You can't keep me here! They're gonna come lookin' for me! And when they do, they're gonna take you down, you bastard! You'll see. You're gonna be fucking sorry!" the man spits out, staring hatefully at Jumin.
Jumin arches a brow, continuing to fold his sleeves on his other arm. His voice is calm, low, as though he's having a casual conversation and not being threatened by this piece of scum. "Oh? I'd like to see them try."
The man becomes angrier, as though Jumin’s calm facade is somehow an insult to him. “Don’t you fucking know who I am, huh? I am—”
“You are irrelevant to me,” Jumin interrupts, crossing his arms as he looks down on the man. His expression darkens as he studies the lowlife who dared to touch his MC. Who dared to even breathe the same air as her. “I do not need to know your name, I do not need to know who you are, what you’re worth. All I need to know is this:
You meant to harm my wife.”
Jumin watches as a small smile appears on the man’s face. His jaw clenches as he holds himself back. Not yet, he tells himself. Not yet.
“Your wife? MC? Yeah, she’s a real beauty. I remember those scared cries she made when I grabbed her. I bet she sounds real good in bed, huh? I bet—”
The man never gets to finish his sentence. Instead, he has a split second to widen his eyes before Jumin’s fist collides with his jaw. The man hears a crack but it’s quickly forgotten as pain shoots up his cheek, his jaw. His head whips harshly to one side and he tastes blood in his mouth.
Jumin grits his teeth and grabs the man by his hair, forcing him to face Jumin again.
“How dare you talk about my wife that way. How dare you even utter her name with that filthy mouth of yours. You have no right to even walk in the places her feet have touched. You have no right to breathe the air she breathes. You have no right at all to LIVE in the world she exists in.”
The man attempts to scowl but it turns into an ugly grimace, his jaw throbbing. “When I get outta here, I’m gonna fuck her and make you watch, you sonovabitch!” He’s about to spit at Jumin Han’s face when Jumin releases his hair and hits him with an uppercut, effectively slamming his teeth together. Jumin steps back and watches as the man chokes on his own spit, violent coughs making his shoulders heave. Blood starts to trickle down the side of his lips, down his chin; to Jumin, that vermin’s blood is like coal that fuels the deep loathing he feels towards said vermin. He wants more, more of the man’s blood to spill until he is on the brink of death.
“What makes you think you’re getting out of here? Do you think that highly of your comrades? Do you think they would come for you…at the risk of becoming my enemy?” Jumin lets out a mirthless chuckle.
“You’re sorely mistaken.
No one is coming to save you.”
“Think of it like this…” Jumin yanks on the man’s hair again, pulling him to his feet. He leans closer. In a low, soft voice, he speaks to the man —like Death’s whisper to a dying soul.
“You’re dead to them. In fact…you’re dead to everyone. There’s not a person who would want to be affiliated with you now. There’s not a single soul who will even speak your name anymore. Because if they do, I will not only obliterate every trace of their existence from the world, I will also ensure that their life becomes a living hell. They will spend every waking moment in a dark cell, suffering, praying they were dead, and every time they close their eyes they will be plagued with nightmares of the pitiful, painful, pathetic life ahead of them.”
The man struggles to remain upright, his hands still bound behind his back as blood starts to soak the front of his shirt. A muscle in Jumin’s jaw twitches as he stares at the hideous expression on the man’s face.
“You asked me if I knew who you are? Yes, I know who you are. I also know where you parents are, your sister and her family, even the bastard son you’re hiding from your employer.” At his words, Jumin sees the man’s face pale. “Here, we place a high value on family. That’s why I sought to learn about your family.”
“If you fucking touch them, I fucking swear I’ll—”
“You’ll…what? Kill me?” Jumin’s eyes flash and his lips curl in a small, taunting smirk. “That’s what you should have done. You should have killed me instead of going after my wife.”
Jumin approaches the man and now, he sees the man take a small step back.
“You’re only fucking cocky ‘coz you’re beating up a defenseless man! You think this is a fair fight?!”
“Fair?” Jumin’s eyebrow arches. “Fair?” He tilts his head ever so slightly, looking at the man in disbelief.
“Why would I stoop to your level and make this fair?”
He takes another step towards the man and the man’s eyes widen as he takes a step back.
“I was born with every advantage…why wouldn’t I use them? To, as you put it, ‘make this fair’? Why? You certainly thought it was fair to take advantage of a woman who’s smaller than you…and now you call me ‘cocky’ for beating you while your hands are bound?”
Jumin closes the gap between them and delivers a swift punch to the man’s solar plexus. The man chokes and gasps for air, wheezing as Jumin throws another punch…and then another.
The man feels his knees buckle as his body topples forward. But before he can even fall, Jumin grabs his shoulders and pushes the man down at the same time raising his knee and driving it further on the same spot.
“Get this through your thick head,” Jumin says vehemently, now letting his anger take over. Gone is his composure, all he can see now is this man stalking his wife, touching her, laughing at her horrified expression, thinking about the terrible things he’d do to MC…all because she’s Jumin’s queen.
“Life will never be fair.” Jumin keeps his grip on the man, not giving him a chance to straighten. He slams his knee against the man’s abdomen and now he can hear the man wheezing hard, his gasps turning raspy, desperate.
“You and I will never be on the same level.”
“P-lea—”
Jumin scowls at the man. He dares try to interrupt Jumin? Jumin takes a slight step back before slamming the man’s face down on his knee.
“Shut up. You don’t even deserve to be talking. I’ll have your tongue cut out…eventually.”
Jumin releases the man and he falls to the ground like a pathetic rag doll. The man is still wheezing, taking in short, quick breaths. Jumin watches him struggle to breathe, a rush of satisfaction filling him as he sees the man’s bloody face, his nose broken, his lip busted, his eyes swollen and drooping.
But still, this will never be enough. There’s never a good enough punishment for someone who has ill intentions towards Jumin Han’s family. Especially his Queen.
Jumin uses the front of his shoe to push the man onto his back. The man’s wide eyes dart to Jumin as he starts to choke on his own blood. But Jumin merely places a foot on his chest and leans forward, putting all his weight on the foot that’s right over the man’s lungs.
“Now…I’ve established that I know you. But…
Do you know who I am?”
Jumin’s steely gaze never leaves the man’s face, his icy expression showing no hints of mercy. In fact, he leans forward more, pressing his foot deeper.
”I am Jumin Han. I am the most powerful man in Asia.
From now on, your life is in MY hands. If you breathe it is because I’m letting you breathe. But don’t worry, I assure you, breathing will be a luxury for you. Like I said before, I was born with every advantage at my fingertips.
I intend to use my power to make your life into something far worse than the hell you’ve imagined.
About your family…I won’t hurt them. Yet. It all depends on whether you cooperate or not. You may think this is a sick, cruel game…I want to assure you yet again that yes, this is my sick, twisted game for simpletons with a death wish.”
The man’s face is turning purple as he desperately opens his mouth to try to get air into his lungs. Jumin just stares at him for a few seconds, watching the red lines creeping into the man’s eyes. Jumin eases his foot over the man’s lungs and he waits until the man intakes a couple of short breaths before pushing against his chest again.
“You’ve made a grave mistake, turning me into your enemy…but now I’ll be more than that. I’ll be the demon that haunts your every move. I’ll be your personal Grim Reaper, collecting blood and instilling fear in you.
Every day.
For the rest of your meaningless existence.”
Jumin lifts his foot from the man’s chest and he gazes down at his work. The man has tears flowing down the sides of his face, bruises and cuts all over his body —at least, the parts that Jumin can see. Jumin is sure the man has a cracked rib or two as well.
To him, this punishment is still nothing compared to the trauma this pathetic idiot instilled in MC. But he’ll have to stop for now; he doesn’t want the man to die that same night. No…Jumin wants him to live a long, miserable life.
Without another word, Jumin heads for the door, where Assistant Kang is already waiting with a towel in her hands. Jumin takes it, wiping away the man’s blood from his hands.
“I want him looked at but make sure he’s bound tightly. Only patch up the wounds that are fatal. Then transfer him to our warehouse, put him in a coffin and make him think he’s going to be buried alive; I trust you’ll oversee this, Assistant Kang?”
“Of course, sir. I’ll send you a recording afterwards.”
“Good. He can stay there for the evening, but make sure to check the CCTVs in the coffin every now and then. I want him to live for a long time. In the morning, move him to a cell and only give him water. No food, no lights, no toilets, no requests. I’ll call you with further instructions tomorrow. Do I make myself clear?”
The guards around Jaehee reply in a rush, the menacing aura Jumin is exuding, scaring even them. Jaehee waves the guards towards the man and they get to work.
“Oh, and Assistant Kang?”
Jaehee turns to her boss, watching him holding the blood-stained towel. She never thought she’d be working for the most powerful man in the continent, but she’s also grateful that she is. There’s no mercy in Jaehee’s heart towards the man who could have taken someone precious from them, and she’s glad her boss can inflict the most damning punishment onto that man.
“Yes, Mr. Han?”
“Make sure that man or anyone affiliated with him will never get anywhere close to my wife. If they do, kill them. I want all our men to know that.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Good. I’ll leave this to you, then. Have a pleasant evening, Assistant Kang.”
Jaehee watches him go, as though he didn’t just nearly beat a man to death. But at the end of the day, they’re all just pawns on Jumin’s chessboard.
She pities any fool who dares to take on the king and his queen.
★・・・・・・★
I hope you liked it! Thank you for reading <3 Don't forget to follow @ranartinart too <3
Check out my other Mysme writings here!
Mango Shake/Ko-fi is always very much appreciated (ᵔᴥᵔ)
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Eat Crow
(Zombieman x GN!Reader)
Warnings: Mentioned Human Experimentation, Animal Death, Abandonment, Implied Child Abuse/Neglect, Swearing, Blood & gore (come on this is ZM), self-harm (ZM does some reckless things), there's probably other things in here that I can't think of right now so if you're particularly sensitive maybe you should just avoid this,
Tags: Pining, borderline romance, strangers to friends, maybe lovers (in the future), Reader is starved for any kind of companionship, Unstoppable force & Immovable object, oneshot, angst, comfort (very barely), open-ended ending, so much build-up for a fucking oneshot, not edited so sorry
Word count: 11k
Summary:
Zombieman had what he thought was a simple case: "Find the source of the toxins in the assigned area."
One of his specialities is investigating contaminated or toxic areas - places that only robots or cyborgs could reach, areas where organic matter struggled to make it out alive. Other heroes would be dispatched to a monster infestation, and he would be sent to the local ghost town. This was fine to him - he would describe himself as more of an investigator than a hero anyways. So, in one way, this task was like no other.
In another way, he's never seen a case as peculiar as this. A product of human experimentation, just like him. He's never really had a case like this before. Curiously, they didn't seem to want to admit it. He can't blame them for their decision either - especially not after he found out some reasons why. And it's not like he could have found out the normal way - after all, what's considered poisonous to a dead man?
So, he couldn't quite complete his investigation - at that point, he couldn't really confirm or deny his suspicions. That is until he saw their touch wilt a crow's life within seconds.
...Well, the crow is already dead. You just have to eat it now.
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Ao3 Link here, if you prefer reading there!
A/N: I'm mostly writing this to ward off my impulses for the other idea I have for ZM - I can't start another multi chapter fic on him when I've not even finished the other one I'm writing right now... (TBH if I just dedicated my time writing this into that, I might have been able to finish it... Uhhh I just won't think about that)
I've kept this on the drafts so long, but now I've finally vomited it out (I ran it through a spell checker, not even edited) - I hope that it's coherent because I struggle editing so much, and I don't know if I have it in me to make it more articulate than it is... Uhhh story isn't fluid sorry (>>_>>)
But if I used the wrong pronouns for the Reader (anything that's not they/them) please feel free to point it out since it is supposed to be Gender-Neutral!
---
"QUARANTINED AREA AHEAD"
"TOXIC WASTE NEARBY"
"LEAVE NOW"
The danger signs were littered everywhere.
From the very moment he even came near the location - even miles away, he was warned not to approach. As he got closer, the signs and fences only increased in frequency. Just a few caution signs at first, illustrated by the humble exclamation mark. Then the potentially comedic skull and bones - pirates would be overjoyed at the sight of so many of them. And finally the unnerving biohazard symbol appears. He's never liked the look of it - maybe because he doesn't understand what it was actually supposed to be, or maybe it reminded him too much of Dr. Genus' lab - the same symbols were also hung up everywhere, the scientist liked to be organised after all.
The final hurdle was in sight now - a chain-linked fence with barbed wires that had rust collecting on the bright red sign that hung brazenly on the door.
"DANGER: YOUR LIFE IS AT RISK FROM THIS POINT FORWARD"
He nodded at the final warning as if letting the inanimate object know that he acknowledges the danger, then swung his axe against the metal lock, easily snapping it in half. Time must have also wore the lock down, helping the process of decay because it behaved far too flimsy.
If most people showed me as much concern as these signs did, then I would be out of a job.
He pushes on the door, the hinges on the door creak loudly as if it was doing a drum roll for his demise. As he walks through, he's careful to shut the door behind him and lock it with another one - the one he brought in preparation for this. As he does so, he notices that the key for it must have fallen out on the way over. It was his fault for not repairing the hole in his pocket after tearing it from his last brawl.
No way out now I guess...
He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and rubs the cherry on the back of his hand before he drops it on the floor, crushing it with his black boots. Just as quickly as the cigarette left his mouth, another replaces it, the lighter coming up as if joined together with the cigarette. The nicotine was too addicting, he didn't mind the lethal poison that accompanied the chemical potentially affecting his body.
He's been critiqued on his bad habits by a fellow hero before, the smoke was just flat out unhealthy to have near people, so he should stop.
(He puts it nicer than what was actually said - Tatsumaki had gathered the all of the smoke in the room with her powers and stuffed it back into his lungs, hissing out hostile remarks as she did so. The product of a particularly bad day. Apparently she couldn't find any monsters to kill, and that caused her foul mood. It doesn't help that he was probably the closest thing to a monster she found that day.)
Even so, Zombieman couldn't disagree with the comments made, and though he never stopped smoking, the thought always flashed in his mind for the briefest of moments.
But this time he lit it without any guilt of others. This was a completely isolated area, where the air was already considered toxic to all organic matter. What's the harm of adding a little bit more poison in the air?
He dragged a large cloud of smoke out from his lips as he exhaled, almost like a sigh of relief from the long journey. Almost drearily, his eyes followed the grey mist drift through the air before it quickly dissipated into the atmosphere, the very last remnants of it lingered in one spot before fully turning transparent. His red pupils slowly fixated on that spot as he spotted the building he was headed towards.
...Break over. Back to work.
His arm slung the axe over his shoulder, resting the weight of the metal head in the crook of his neck as he continued his descent to his destination. He walked with calm confidence, not fitting of a man that's entering a toxic waste zone, but that suited him.
The thrill of an investigation was too addicting, he didn't mind about the dangers that had been constantly waved in his direction.
Perhaps the danger even added to the thrill of it.
-----
"Toxic waste land...? Hm." He murmured to himself as the read over the file they sent him. The low clicking of the train wheels was just as faint as his voice as he spoke. Zombieman positioned himself to a quiet corner of the fairly empty train, the folder in front of him messily sprawled out, but in a fairly controlled manner.
He had requested it to be in paper format, call him old-fashioned, but he viewed the information to be more tangible that way. Besides, he often breaks the phone the Hero Association provides him anyways. Once Child Emperor had leaped at the opportunity to make him an 'unbreakable' phone after hearing the staff members talk about how this was the 'fourth one this week', it had a pretty good run, but he still lost it in the end.
...It makes him feel bad to bother the kid for another one, so he'll just do this until Isamu notices and chucks him another. He'll treat it more carefully this time, he didn't realise just how much shitter the one's he gets from the Hero Association is. Isamu really was a genius, but he didn't want to pressure him too much.
He flips through the information provided, it was choppy. The testimonies didn't seem clear, and there wasn't a lot found by HA. Well, a lack of information never stopped him. His red eyes scanned the pages, picking up what he deemed the most vital snippets of data and committed it to memory.
"...Laboratory...", "...Mithridate...", "...Antidote...", "...Pancea...", "Dozens died from poisoning", "...Scientists Evacuate...", "...Local Town Falls Sick From Mysterious Illness...", "...Abandoned Area...", "...No Organic matter found in the vicinity..."
He concluded after reading it, there used to be a remote laboratory out this far that was focusing on creating strong antidotes. But it seemed that they weren't able to control it effectively enough, and apparently some sort of sample hadn't been contained properly had caused many of the scientists to die from poisoning. It seems that even though they tried their best to clean the place and dispose of the source, there was still trace amounts lingering and many workers became sick. The entire building was forced to evacuate - and a few years later, apparently some of the people that had lived nearby had to be admitted to the larger general hospitals. It started happening too frequently without any obvious cause and people started moving away. Satellite scans showed that the grass around this place slowly started dying, and bird avoided migrating near the area all together.
All in all, an typical case for him. He predicts the following days to be somewhat laid back. His only objective was to find what was the source. The implication in that was that he didn't even have to get rid of it, only report back.
There was something bothering him though. Like when you feel your feet shift a little too much - you're nervous but you don't know why. Or when you felt a pair of eyes watching you, but you couldn't place who in the crowd of people would spend so much time on you.
Current suspicion: There was something more to this case.
They could simply send one of their many drones to check out the area, scope out if there's a leak that's causing the increase of toxins detected. But they sent him.
His first thought: They suspected there was a monster there, and wanted him to kill it.
He could do that, they often do when they're worried about a particularly dangerous monsters most heroes couldn't defeat without wearing it down massively. But they didn't say anything in the report - they kept it hidden from him. To feign ignorance of the missing piece of the puzzle before even asking him for assistance.
...But why?
He's never shown hesitation to brutalise monsters. It's written in his fucking Encyclopedia page - something Bang had showed him after his disciple had pointed it out to him, and the old man just had to pass on the message, chuckling at the descriptors. Something something about how gore and death followed him or something along those lines.
...Is it related to Dr. Genus?
He clenches the paper a little too tightly, crumpling the otherwise pristine pages. The Hero Assocication might have had an inkling to his past. He never talked about it much, but did they find out? He wouldn't put it pass them - staying private in this day and age was getting more and more difficult by the day even if it would do both parties good if they stayed in their own lane. If they did know about his days of being an experimental sample, why were they assigning him to this case?
...Was this their way of turning their cheek the other way? By letting him confront his own past alone?
"...Sir?" He hears the train conductor walk over to him, nervously eyeing him up as the scowl on his face grows deeper at the thought of meeting the Doctor again. "This is the last stop." He hears as he snaps out of his thoughts, tilting his head up to look at the lady.
"...Thanks."
"...Are you sure about getting off here? There's nothing for a few dozen miles..."
"I'm sure. Thank you." He said, picking up the axe he had placed on the wooden floorboards, but didn't raise it above his head to rest on his shoulder like usual. Instead, he kept the metal head close to the ground, the blade pointed towards him and never her. He didn't want to alarm the lady.
"No, it's fine... I've not seen someone get off at this stop for perhaps a couple years now... It's nice to see people still come here in this little corner of the world - you know there's a forest a hour or so west from here? Beautiful place, you should check it out." She rambled on, the smile on her face causing the corners of her eyes to wrinkle. "Used to go there when I was young, took this same train out. I'm just a little too old for that now."
He nodded politely at her, taking note of the sun spots speckled on her skin. "...You're still younger than me, so there's no need to talk like that."
Besides, it's a privilege to be able to age. I'm sick of looking at the same damned thing everyday.
"Oh, aren't you a charmer..." She laughed, slowly escorting him down over to the train doors. He trotted after her, his boots made a small sound with each step he took. "Don't forget, the next time this train will be here is at eight tonight. Don't be late or you'll have to spend the night camping." She said, only getting a simple nod from him before the doors closed on her.
...A forest? I guess the toxins or whatever hasn't spread that far yet then...
As he walked away, he raised his axe back up and slammed it back on his shoulder, resting it there. Something of an reminder that he's on duty.
He's grown used to the weight of the axe.
-----
The building is fairly large - almost industrial. He could see it as a speck in the distance, but as he approached, he see that it's size wasn't anything much to be scoffed at. Definitely not at big at the ones he's seen at HA, but still, impressive.
As he approached the laboratory, he could see a... Fully-clad yellow figure running full speed at him.
Like second nature, he pulled out the guns from his sleeves and swung his axe back down to his midsection, his palms tightly gripping the weapons. It couldn't be a civilian - they would be fatally ill at this point from being this close to the site.
His blood-coloured eyes scanned the person (or perhaps monster) sprinting up at him. At closer inspection, he could tell that it was a human wearing a hazmat suit.
...Zombieman slowly retracted his desert eagle back into his trench coat and the axe also returned to its last position. There didn't seem like there was an danger yet, more so someone he needs to interrogate.
...Maybe there's still some people working here without anyone knowing?
They were... waving at him? He raised his thin eyebrow at them, shifting over to a more relaxed stance than before. He waited for them to approach - and as this mysterious figure got closer, he could hear muffled shouting from them as their hand waving in the air got more frantic. He noted that in their other hand, there was a blue gas mask.
He debated snuffing out his cigarette, but kept it in his mouth. It's not like they would be affected judging by the protection they're already wearing.
By the time they were close enough to him so that he could hear their words, it didn't matter since they were huffing out their lungs trying to breath in as much air as they could. Sprinting must have been hard - the hazard suit and heavy boots didn't help do them any favours either.
"...Are you alright?" He asked, staring down at him as they doubled over. The sound of their heavy breathing was clear even through the thick suit.
Regardless of their exhausted state, they sluggishly yanked him down to their level and slapped the spare gas mask onto his face. "...uckING STUPID!"
The impact of the plastic against his face caused him to glare at them with squinted eyes as he took the mask. He didn't bother dodging it - it's not like the action was malicious anyways. The force of which the firm plastic wasn't painful enough for him to make a noise, but he still grunted from the shock of their actions. "...What'd you say?"
They didn't respond, seeming satisfied with the fact he taken the respirator from them already and just crumpled back over on their form. He gave them a moment to gather their breath. "...Don't you know that this is a toxic area...? What the hell are you doing without any equipment...?"
He crouches down to their level, seeing as they were still catching their breath and he couldn't quite hear between their suit and the small distance. "I don't need it. What are you doing here?"
They tilted their head over to him, seeing that he had taken the blue mask off and just hung it around his neck by the strap. "...I live here."
Live? Not work?
"...Then don't you know that this is a toxic area?" He parroted the question back to them, trying to look into their eyes, or face, only to see that the glass they see out of is a reflective surface. Only his red eyes locked on with his own. His
"The inside of my house is safe, when I go out I wear this." There's something about the way in which they said it which made him think that they had rolled their eyes at him as they spoke.
"House?" He brushed off their attitude quickly, he didn't really care about it to begin with anyways, "what house?"
"Why would I tell a stranger where I live?" They snapped back, getting back up on their feet. Zombieman quickly followed suit. "What are you doing here anyways?"
"I'm a Hero. I've been sent here to find the source of the poison in this area." As if on cue, their head tilted at him in disbelief. He goes on to answer further, hoping it would dispel any more of their suspicion. "...You can call me Zombieman."
He could tell even without any facial expressions to help him nothing he said was convincing. "...Alright, 'Hero Zombieman'... If you've been sent here to investigate, then why didn't they send you off with any equipment with you? We both know that this isn't the safest place to be."
A reasonable question, he supposes. He just hopes that the answer he gives them is just as logical in their eyes. "I can't die - hence my name."
"...Can't die?" They repeated slowly, taking a few steps back from him. He could see the distrust in their body language, and he wanted to fill the gap quickly - they probably had a lot of information on this area he didn't. "...Don't lie to me, everything dies."
He nodded at them, trying to indicate that he acknowledges their suspicion then pulled his gun back out. They're not given much time to react to it, as the muzzle was pointed at his temple, his finger on the trigger. "I'll prove it."
Just as he pulled the trigger ever so slightly, he notices in that split second they've close the distance between them instantly. Their hands shooting out to tear the weapon out of his hands-
Only for him to tilt it ever so slightly upwards from its original position in surprise - instead of the bullet going through his skull at a straight line, it was just angled slightly differently, shooting through the top of his skull.
They froze up at the sight - the pink of the bone and the pink of his brains, the smell of blood was thick and metallic. They could smell it even through their suit, and nothing about their protection could block the sight of his hand. Limp. In your grasp.
Zombieman examined at them from the corner of his eyes, feeling that their hands was trembling slightly through the thick gloves they wore. It was from either the sight of his skull being blown open or the fact they thought he was now dead.
...I wanted to close the gap between us, but not physically...
"...Proof enough?" He asks, moving his head to face them. They practically leaped back, even in the chunky boots and protective gear they were wearing, they found themselves a couple feet even further than before.
...Was that too much?
No, I only shot myself. That's nothing.
...Am I too numb to gore compared to the average person?
"...Yeah. Yeah. I believe you." They say, their voice shaking as they watched the hole slowly fill itself back up again. First the grey matter in the brain, then the pink plating of the skull, and finally his pale skin and dark hair. It was as if nothing had ever happened - the only proof that they had was the dark streaks of blood that ran down his temple and the small splatters of flesh that had ended up on them. They did their best to quickly compose themselves."...So... Uhm... Do- do you need anything...?"
He nodded, feeling a twinge of guilt at their reaction. Yeah, it was too much to witness. Next time, he'll just cut his hand off or something. "Could you get me into that laboratory? I want to inspect it to see if I can find anything inside."
"...I can do that, follow me." They agreed, probably still in shock and stiffly placed one foot in front of the other, their hands having the same nature of movement - almost mechanically.
He was quiet for a minute, looking around the building. He wanted to ask more questions about them, but he had a feeling he needed to build back some sort of foundation of trust again if he wanted any good answers. Short, snippy ones aren't bad, but more detail is better this time.
"...What's your name?" He starts off simple.
They slowly moved their head over in his direction, stopping in their tracks. He briefly thinks for a moment that asking for that was too soon, but when he hears your name slowly uttered from your lips the thought is gone. He could sense the uncertainty of his character coming off in waves, but you still chose to tell him.
He nodded, "I'll keep that in mind."
"...And I don't think I'll be able to forget yours." He could hear you mumble faintly as you took long strides over to the entrance door. "Mr. 'Can't die'..."
...I don't mind if you were able to find a way to change that name of mine.
He didn't correct your words, and accepted his newfound alias. "How come you have access to the lab?"
It took you a while to respond, at first he just thought you didn't hear him or maybe you were busy fiddling with the keypad on the door, but it seems that you were considering telling him or not.
...Zombieman lowered his axe, resting it at his side. He may still be on duty, and it's not even the weapon he used to shoot himself, but it's not like he needed it this very moment. And if it helped soothe your worries even a little, then it will have been worth it.
When you get the door open, you turn back around to face him. He still can't see your eyes, but he could feel yours staring at him - cautiously inspecting him and his intentions before opening the door. "...This is where I live." You answered him.
...Huh, it worked.
He hummed appreciatively through his cigarette, reaching up and holding the door open for you. You paused your movements for a moment and nodded back, "...Thanks."
"No problem." He replied back, then followed after you, shutting the door after himself. When he walks in, he realises that the entrance is double sealed - one door after another to ensure that as little toxic gas leaves or enters. "So, you live in a lab...?" He says, practically repeating already known information in the hopes you'll slip out a little more data for him to piece together.
"Mhm. There's lab equipment everywhere." You say, though not intentional, your tone was pretty dismissive. It makes him wonder if he should play the long game or the short game.
He sticks to the former - besides, if he's really pressed up for time for whatever reasons, he can resort to more... forceful methods.
You open the other door, pressing even more buttons on the security system before beckoning him to follow through, holding the door open for him. "Quick - if you're there for too long, the doors will automatically shut and won't open without a special password."
"Oh." He nodded, the sounds of his boots increasing before the heavy door clicked securely shut. The two of you were now locked in together - he wonders if you're more anxious than him about the situation. One hand hand, he could be locked in with a mad scientist and be subjected to experimentation once again. On the other hand, he was a man that doesn't exactly have any indication of sane mental health paired with the fact he has a fair variety of weapons on his person ready to go any moment.
...They should be more scared than me.
"Do you work here?" He asks, trying to place down the foundations of trust.
"Yeah...?" You say, your thick gloves grabbing the other and pulling them off. "I'm... something of a researcher. Or something along those lines." The way you said it could be viewed as avoidant, or simply distracted - judging by the way your now exposed hands was fiddling with the hazard suit, taking it off and throwing them into a large plastic container off to the side of the door. Presumably to be disinfected and reused. "I've just been told to stay here until the toxins reach an acceptable level. Then I'm free to leave."
He narrowed his eyes at you, taking mental notes on your choice of words and actions. It was entirely unconscious behaviour, akin to second nature - Zombieman was already crafting a mental corkboard of everything he knew about this place and you. You took the final piece off, your large headpiece, finally revealing your face to him.
His eyes fixated on you, his red irises re-examined your figure, taking new mental notes to add to his corkboard. His eyes found their way following a sweat drop that traced the side of your face, a small trail of liquid trailed down your facial features before the head of it became too small to follow anymore. He briefly wondered it that sweat was a shade or two darker than it was supposed to be, but concluded that it was just the lighting of the room. "...Hot in that thing, huh?"
"...Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess I'm not really used to it..." You say, not noticing him observing you.
...Not used to the hazmat suit, I don't recognise them from the list of scientists provided, and they're uncertain about their role.
Current thoughts: You've turned out more suspicious than he thought.
-----
Nervously, your eyes kept glancing over to him, drinking in every detail of him that you could with each glance. At first, you thought it was the glass of your suit playing tricks on your vision when you spotted his red eyes, but even when you took your headpiece off and looked over him again, they were still red.
Blood red, to be more specific, especially now that you had a very, very recent reminder of the colour of blood.
His skin was almost porcelain white, but there was something of a grey undertone to it. His hair was a ink black and his getup didn't have a single drop of colour - the only thing you could even perhaps suggest that had a hue was the buckles of his (many) belts strung tightly against his chest. Everything combined, this monochrome sense of fashion contrasted with his striking red eyes and dark eye bags made it incredibly easy for you to focus on his face. Basically a sinkhole of attention.
Zombieman... From that name, you'd expect more decay, but...
...He's handsome. You concluded, as you kept finding your eyes shifting over to him as you showed him about the place. But he's also scary. Why would he shoot himself to prove a point...?
"Are you gonna show me around...?" He asked after what must have been you staring a little too long at him.
"Sorry." You say, turning your head away from him. Despite looking at him so carefully, you couldn't pick up on his mild discomfort. You try to remedy the situation, giving a honest reason to your actions should suffice, right? "...I was just thinking that you're very visually appealing."
The answer seems to shock him, or at the very least, throw him off his feet a little.
His eyes widened at your response before he tilting his face slightly to his right clearing his throat into the sleeve of his trench coat. His left hand seemed to tighten his grip around his axe. "...Thank you."
You think that you shouldn't have said that - was he uncomfortable? You don't really have much of a chance to interact with people, and it's leaves you wondering your next move.
...Should I apologise? What did I do wrong? Is there such thing as too honest?
On quick glance back up at him, tells you that if he did feel uncomfortable by you, he's recovered. He's leaning against the plain white walls with his axe by his side. You note the fact he still hasn't raised it back onto his shoulder - whatever the reason for this, it somewhat made you feel more relaxed.
"...Uh, I'll take you around the first floor first...? It's mostly just like laboratory equipment, but it might help you?" You say, trying to gauge his reaction.
He simply nodded, and as you took your first step, so did he. You glanced back to see that he was a step or two closer behind you than before as you walked down the large white hallways.
...I hope that he leaves soon.
Just before you stepped through into another set of doors, there was a few equipment littered on the walls of the lab. Coats, gloves, masks. Though, you've used and ruined most of them at this point.
Please, please, leave.
You watched him place down the gas mask you had given him earlier alongside the other ones lined up on the wall for anyone to take. The others were faulty at this point, the one he put back down was one of the only ones that still functioned at this point.
It's not safe here, even for you.
-----
"...That thing..." You say, gesturing to him, your index finger waved over his face a couple times. "...smells terrible. Do you need it or something?"
He raised one eyebrow at you, wondering if his breath smelt for a moment before realising what you were saying. "...My cigarette?" He asked, taking it out of his mouth, bringing it a little closer to you to confirm your request. Your lips tightened and your eyebrows narrowed at the distance decreasing. So it is. "I suppose that I don't need it."
"Yeah, that... cigarette." You say, slowly rolling the word out on your tongue as you took a step back. "If you don't need it, can you get rid of it? There's vents all over the place, but I'm worried that smell will linger if you keep using it."
"...Sure, do you have an ash tray or something of that kind?" He asked, rubbing the lit part of the cigarette over the back of his hand. The burning sensation felt like it was shorter each time - the initial burn from the very first time he put out his smoke was almost exciting to feel. Now, it feels like pointless rebellion.
You looked at him, blinking. It took you a second to respond to him, trying to think of what would be suitable. Your eyes glanced around the room, landing on the shelf of conical flasks, before the blanket hung up on the wall that's placed there in case of a fire emergency.
...He thinks he likes the way your features scrunched up as you rapidly skimmed through all of the available items. You looked like you were in in deep thought over something rather minor - maybe he likes the way you took him so seriously, or was it the way you were so confident you could find a replacement within the confines of the room within seconds?
It didn't take you too long to find something. "...There's sand bins. Will that do?"
"Mhm." He nodded, and you walked over to the bucket filled with sand - presumably, it was to put out fires, but it could also be repurposed for a more crude use. Your hands wrapped around the bucket's handle, planning to bring it over to him, but he simply just followed after you and smothered the cherry into the sand. There was no chance of it catching fire now.
You nodded at him, then pointed at another table with glass equipment on top, giving a rather detail explanation to him as you picked up different parts - he was barely listening, his mind quickly filing away this odd morsel of information about you as he got back to his actual work.
...Have they never seen a cigarette before?
I mean, public smoking places are less and less common nowadays, but still...
He thought your behaviour was strange, but it'd be rude to point out. He let you continue guiding him around the lab. Besides, if you felt comfortable enough to tell him to stop smoking, then you must be somewhat amicable towards giving him more intel.
-----
The two of you finish the tour of the first floor, and you glanced over to the clock on the wall. "...I'm gonna head off to lunch. You can join if you want." You say, walking away from him and into another room. He peered in - seems like a break room for staff. He debated joining you, or wandering off on his own to investigate.
The former wins as he argues that he could just wander about later. It didn't seem like you were rushing about to get him to leave quickly anyways. If anything, he'd say you enjoyed the company judging by how he often caught you waiting for him to catch up when he spotted something of interest. Or when you stared at him intently when he spoke, taking his questions to heart.
...Or it could be for another reason. Tons of people flocked to Amai Mask for one big reason, Zombieman just... never suspected he'd be on the receiving end of the same kind of attention.
...'Visually appealing.' What is that supposed to mean?
As he enters the break room, he spots you waiting patiently by the microwave. There's a rather large pile of delivery boxes collected in the corner of the room. Perhaps one would feel shame at a 'guest' of sorts seeing the mess, but you didn't seem to care much. Upon noticing him, you opened the microwave door and added another packet of food.
I guess I'm eating too now.
He stands next to you, pretending to also wait for lunch, but in reality he just stared at you from the corner of his eyes. It doesn't take you long to return the action, your pupils also shifting over to his direction.
The two of you share eye contact until you turn away and go back to staring at the packets of food spinning around in the microwave. He lets out something of a cough, then goes to check his phone, (It's not like the could just whip out the files he had brought with him right in front of you anyways), maybe you were on the lists of scientists, and he just doesn't remember you that well.
Your eyes are casted away from your lunch, catching the glimpse of movement in the corner of your eyes. "...Whoa, you have a real nice phone..."
He tilts his head up at you, then turns the screen off before giving his device a quick spin for you to see if you wanted. You nodded at this, as if you were some sort of phone collector inspecting the goods before buying.
"No," he shakes his head, giving it a closer inspection as he spun it despite already giving it a verdict. "It can't even withstand falling off a skyscraper."
"...I don't think that's a good way to measure it." You say, a ghost of a smile on your lips. "Here." You fiddled with your pockets, before pulling out what he thinks is a brick at first as you carelessly held it out to him. "Here's one I found a couple years ago. Under my Dad's desk."
"...Maybe I do have a nice phone." He says, staring down at the device as you let out a small laugh out at him.
The phone was pretty old.
The equipment in the lab also looks quite old, but I don't know enough about it to know if it's actually old, or if it's just old compared to Isamu's hoard of equipment.
It seems like you had enough money to deliver food to yourself, but not enough to fund your research. You probably aren't being paid.
Probably because you aren't a real researcher.
But his conclusion just brings more questions than answers - why would you stay out here if you aren't getting paid well? You've been tasked with staying here until the toxins have subsided, but why would you do that? Money clearly wasn't the reason - maybe it was something more personal. His eyes meandered across the room until it landed.
Maybe it was your Dad.
"...Say, your dad worked here too?" He asks, slowly reaching out to take the phone from you, feigning fake interest in the device in your hands. His cold fingers brushed against your skin making your breath hitch - practically throwing the phone away from yourself.
He caught it before it collided against the surface of the table, but he wasn't even looking at the phone anymore as his eyes shifted over to you, examining your body language quickly to figure out what caused that reaction from you.
You held one hand in the other, your eyes fixated on him, one foot back and holding your breath as if you were waiting for one of you to drop on the floor. The two of you shared a look, the room sinking into a tense quietness. Just as he was about to speak, apologise, anything that felt right to say, you babbled something to dispel the tension.
"O-Oh! Yeah!" You exclaimed, slowly taking your footing back to it's original position. He didn't care so much about the answer anymore after your reaction but still, he listened. "My mother did too. Uh, both of them worked together. H-here."
"Huh..." He nodded, accepting the fact the two of you will skip past that moment. He felt his hand tingle from where your skin touched it - it was almost the same sensation as the one he used to get when pressing the lit part of the cigarette against his skin. Burning, hot. Maybe painful to a normal person but an fleetingly exciting moment to him. "And then you started working here too?"
"...Uh, yeah. Been here for a long time." You say, the words slow to come out. Your eyes drifted away from him and your hand slowly reached back over to the phone he had caught and placed on the table before retracting it back into your pockets. "Actually, I've been here... for a really long time."
He nodded, "how long?"
You didn't answer him at first, only tilted your face over to his direction. You looked... lost. Like you weren't sure what you were doing, or what's even going on. A sense of distant confusion with a vague or faraway goal. "I... don't know."
He frowned. You didn't seem like you were bad-intentioned, but you also seemed like a vital part of this mystery. "How come?"
You pursed your lips, turning away from him again before the microwave went off. The beeps echoed through the silence of the lunch room.
"...Lunch is ready." You say, opening the door of it. "You don't have any allergies do you?"
"No, but even if I did," he made some sort of general motion towards himself. You made a 'Ohh' sound. Some colour returned to your face that he didn't quite realise had left it.
...They don't know? How is that possible?
Also, their parents worked here, and now they do as well. They're most likely staying here not out of choice - are they trapped here? Threatened to stay? Guilt? You couldn't pay most people to stay in such a dangerous area.
"I've just been told to stay here until the toxins reach an acceptable level. Then I'm free to leave."
...What kind of messed up family business is this?
Zombieman could only see the rabbit hole grow deeper the longer he looked in - yet he'll jump head first anyways. He was never much for self preservation.
That same trait comes the thought: if he touches your hand again will it burn the same thrilling way?
-----
After you showed him around the whole lab, he concluded that there was nothing there was still working - and even if there was, it wasn't anything large-scale enough to cause such a large waste area. In fact, the only experiment he saw was you spitting into a test tube and then running it through a machine. Something to do with how it can detect what kinds of chemicals are inside it.
But that machine was clearly broken since he recognised many of the listed items inside to be toxic. You had explained that you had fixed it up after finding it in the storage room, but since that room wasn't well maintained, there was a chance that the toxic air was just stuck inside it now. At least, that's the conclusion you came to, and he didn't see a reason to deny it.
Apart from that, it was mostly you just explaining what each room was and the equipment inside. The tour was over quicker than he thought - but there truly wasn't anything noteworthy. The past researchers had taken all of the papers with them, so he couldn't snoop around to see if there was any information he was missing. It didn't seem like you were trying to hide anything either. You've always seemed like you were honest - perhaps a little apprehensive, but most of that was mostly because, well, he was a stranger in your home.
"That's all... I think I'll get going to bed soon, do you need anything or..."
"No, that's all." He said. "I think I'll get going."
"...At this time?" You ask, seeing him walk out to the door, trying to open it. His hands pressed randomly against the wall's buttons. Quickly, you walked over to him. "Are you going home?"
"I've missed the train, so I can't really go back, but I've been given a recommendation to visit a forest." He says, watching you as you brushed his hands aside to help him open the sealed doors. It burned like before, "I think I'll go check it out," he thinks he wants to feel it again."...Then I'll probably come back with a fresh mind."
"...Seriously?" You asked, pulling the door open for him. "You're gonna spend the nights in the woods?"
"Well, it takes a while to walk over. By the time I get there, it might be sunrise." He says, walking through the first set of doors. Your eyes nervously switched between him and the door, unsure if he was really going to walk back out into the toxic wasteland. "Thanks, I'll see you tomorrow. Or if I find the source of the poison, this will be the last you'll be seeing me."
"...Yeah. That's... fine." You nodded, now trotting over to him, hand hovering over the keypad to let him out. The inner set of doors shut tightly behind you, a slight hissing sound as the air was compressed in the room, ensuring that none of the toxins got in as the vents whirred faster in anticipation. "Here, I'll let you go."
He paused, looking over at you. "Don't you need your hazmat suit?"
Your index finger stopped over one of the buttons as you started pressing the password to get out. "...No, it'll be fine. My parents said that I have a higher immunity to this sort of stuff anyways."
"...Okay, if you say so." He nodded, accepting your words. Every rotting bone in his body was screaming that there was something off about the way you said it, but his heart didn't utter a single peep in protest. He wonders if you're hiding the truth from him judging from his physical reaction to your words.
You nodded back at him, your eyes flicking back up at his for one more time before the door opens, a small gust of wind blew his hair back a little as the heavy entrance opened itself - exposing the two of you to the chilly evening air. "...It's nice meeting you." You say, your words as distant as you could muster with your almost wistful expression.
"...You too." He nodded simply, taking a step out, his boots landing on the dirt footing outside. He paused then turned his head back, speaking again as if he couldn't leave without finishing his all of his thoughts. "Real pleasure to meet you."
You blinked at him repeatedly, taken aback. There was... a slight smile on his face? You weren't given a chance to respond back before the doors let out loud 'beeps' rapidly and the doors slammed down.
He turned back around, taking a couple steps forwards as he languidly pulled out a cigarette and his lighter. His eyes casted over the cherry of the cigarette, watching it catch a flame as he took in a deep, slow breath, inhaling as much of the smoke he could. Impatient, he'd usually call himself for trying so hard to get the taste of the poison as quick as he did just moments after lighting it. It's just getting him more hooked on the nictotine (if he could be anymore addicted), it'll kill him faster (if he could die). But this time he won't fault himself even with all the negatives.
Smoking won't help relieve this... feeling, but it won't make it worse either, he supposes.
His boots forcefully move his body forward as he let out a low grumble.
Move. He urges himself. This is ridiculous. I barely know them.
"Wait!" He heard from behind him, and he found his head turning around without his input. "...I have some sort of car in the lab. Do... you want me to drive you to the forest...?" You ask, holding something of a car key attached to the lanyard around your neck, jangling the sliver object.
...Zombieman knows that it's not the first time you smoke you become addicted. It's the second time.
"Yeah, that's be great." He responses, the cigarette practically falling out of his mouth as he spoke, but he barely cared, only catching it in his hands and crushing it in his palm. It burned - but he barely felt it.
He didn't know that infatuation worked in a similar way to chemical addiction.
-----
You drove him over to the forest, his voice quietly murmuring out the directions for you to drive him. He had made some sort of comment on the car being a off-road vehicle, but you didn't fully get what he was trying to say.
The interior of the car was cold, the heater was very slowly warming it's way up. He insisted that it didn't bother him, but even so, you tried cranking that bloody thing up all the way. There's not much fuel in the car to begin with, but you didn't mind using it on him. It's not like you were going to be driving again.
"Keep going straight, try to avoid that rock if you can." He says, his hand motioning towards the obstacle on the ground.
"O-okay..." You nodded, trying your best to keep the car steady. There was practically sweat dripping down your arms from your nervousness. "Like this...?"
"Mhm." He nodded, "do you not drive often?" He asked, noting your anxious features that was crawling it's way up your face.
"No, uh, can- can you tell...?" You say, pressing the accelerator a little harder, making the car go faster.
"Well, we've been either going 20 or quadruple that. You've not really decided on a constant speed to drive at." He said, pointing a finger at the speedometer. "Also, I've been the one controlling the stick shift since you keep putting it in the wrong one."
"...Ah."
"I think you don't even know how to drive, but I don't really mind." He says, leaning his arm out the window as he blew out another cloud of smoke out of the vehicle. "You got the air bags, so you'll be fine even if we crash."
"...Maybe I'm just a really bad driver." You mutter, feeling your face grow hot even in the cold breeze that came in through the window.
"It's not a maybe." He says, turning back to you, "but it doesn't matter. I appreciate your help. I'll teach you how to drive for real after we get to the forest."
You raised an eyebrow at him, "You can drive?"
"...Eh." He makes a non-committal sound until you shot him a questioning glance, making him answer you properly. "...I don't have a valid licence, but I can drive."
"...So you're just as qualified as me?" You laughed, "or perhaps just as unqualified as me?"
"No, I've passed before. It's just that I've not driven in so long I don't know if I pass the current standards." He answers, maybe a little quickly as you chuckle at his explanation, not exactly buying his answer. "I should still be valid to drive."
"What are you, a old man?" You laughed, the car slowing down as your foot released the pedal, your mind too distracted by what he just said to properly process both things at once. "How could your licence just expire?"
"I had a licence before I was used for human experimentation and I've not had the time to try to renew it." He answers causally, taking in another breath of the smoke before breathing it back out. "I think."
You almost completely stopped the car before turning your head back over to him. "...Huh?"
He turns back to you, staring back into your eyes as your face grew pale at his words, unsure of what to say in response to him. "It's not a secret. I just don't talk about it."
"...Oh." You nodded, then took your hands off the wheel and your foot off as well. "...Is that why you can't die?"
"...Yeah." He nodded, then blew out one last cloud of smoke before he rubbed the light out on his skin again. There wasn't a moment of hesitation between his actions and words - he's too used to the pain he inflicts on himself. The slightest pink tinge on his skin from the burn is gone within less than a second.
The car let out a splutter, filling in the silence that took place in the car. Then stopped dead in it's tracks. "...Uh oh." You glanced down at the screen in front of you, trying to see what went wrong. "...I think we're out of fuel."
"...Mhm. Yeah." He agreed, glancing over to you. "It's fine, we're mostly there anyways." He says, nodding his head forward as he indicated towards your destination.
Your eyes casted over to the view in front of you - you didn't even realise until he pointed it out, but the two of you reached the forest he was guiding you to earlier.
It was dark, the bark of the trees was jet black against the faint light that shone down on the trees. You could barely see past them to see their fellow family. You've never seen them before in person - it was much larger than you had expected. The air smelt... clean.
Even so, it doesn't keep your attention for long as you looked back over to the man next to you. His pale skin contrasted strongly against the darkness outside, his red eyes shifted over to you, and you could pick up on the slight tinge of metal from the dried blood from earlier.
He didn't look human. He didn't have the warm undertones of blood running underneath people's skins. His response to pain was too lukewarm. He had no reaction to being in such grave danger. 'Zombieman' fit him.
"...Shall we go?" He offers, clicking open the car door for him to leave. "You can stay if you want."
"...No, I'll join you."
But he was still far, far more human than you were.
-----
The two of you wandered out into the woods. You flicked your flashlight on while he bravely moved forward in the dark, unafraid of any possible dangers that would be lurking in the woods.
"...Are you looking for something in particular?" You asked, your eyes flicking back over to him as you carefully shined down towards the ground to see where you were placing your heavy-duty boots.
"No." He replied back, still moving like a man on a mission. "The train conductor said that I should drop by here if I had time. I have time."
"...Do you think you'll find your source of poison?" You asked, your voice wavering towards the end, almost backpedalling last second in the hopes he didn't hear you.
He tilted his head backwards, glancing back towards you when you asked. "...I think it's from your home. I just don't know how yet."
*...How honest.
Well, I suppose that he doesn't really have anything to be afraid of anything he can't die. There's not much reason for him to lie.
"...I see." You nodded, your palms feeling slightly clammy after his answer.
...I wonder if he opened up about his past in the hopes that I'd also be more honest with him.
He continued to stride ahead, not taking any particular detours, walking in a straight line forward as he dragged his axe across the ground. It was still low to the ground.
...I hope not. Because I think it's working.
Then, you heard a branch snap off in the distance. You froze up instantly, your feet stuck on the dirt as your head swung over in the direction of the noise as you tried to find the source.
Finally, Zombieman stopped walking, standing still as he tilted his head in the same direction as the sound, the two of you almost perfect mirrors of each other.
"...We have company." He says, as he takes a step over to the sound, swinging his axe upwards to lean rest on his shoulder as he began to stroll over. You think you heard the metallic 'click' of his gun as well. "Let's give them a proper hello."
You flicked your head back and forth, from him to off in the distance of where the car was. Even if your vehicle couldn't move and was useless, you'd still rather go and hide in there over wherever the hell he was waddling off to. "C-Can we not...? If I die, I die."
He didn't acknowledge you maybe he didn't hear, only pressing on and got further and further away from even as the flashlight didn't reach that far ahead. You flipped a coin in your head to decide your choice to join him or leave. You mentally cursed yourself. Repeatedly.
...I guess I'm going too...
Even your feet protested against your brain's decision, but you ignored it and willed them to go on.
It didn't take long for him to stop in front of a bush, looking down at the source of the sound. You think that he's already taken care of the problem before you step past the shrub blocking your vision to see what he was looking at.
"...That's a crow...?" You murmured, your eyes fixed on the bird struggling to get off the ground - there was a sense of pure curiosity even at the sight of the animal in pain. "It's... small."
Zombieman barely paid attention to your words - it wasn't that he didn't find them interesting, it's just that he want to focus his efforts on something else right now.
"Mhm, it might be young." He nodded as he stepped out from behind the shrub. The bird started letting out sounds - perhaps to try to warn the man to step back, but he continues forward. "I think the wing is broken." he explains, pointing to the broken branch next to the animal with his axe. "I guess it hit the tree pretty hard and this is the result."
"Oh," you watched him crouch down to the bird, gently picking it up. It squawked louder as he picked it up to inspect it. "...So, do we help it?"
"...I don't know if we can." He replies back, picking it up with both hands, leaning the head of the axe in between his head and his shoulder as if he was taking a phone call with it. "...Have you ever taken care of a bird before?"
"...I've barely even seen a bird before, I'll be honest." You say, the works almost slipping out without you thinking much of it. He flicked his eyes over to you questioningly but didn't verbalise his thoughts. He was still intent on playing the long game.
"I guess we can take it back to the car for now." He says, his fingers clutching onto the torso of the bird firmly as he tried to support it's wing. Do you have any equipment in the car?"
"Maybe...? There's stuff in the back, we could try helping it." You say, nodding along with him as he began to walk back out the woods, you walking in front to guide him out with the only source of light between the two of you. "...Being a hero must be hard work." You mutter under your breath, your eyes flicking back to him practically cradling the animal in his arms as he steadily supported it to prevent it from hurting itself anymore. It's stopped crying at this point. "You even have to tend to the needs of even animals."
"Nothing worth doing is easy." He responses, picking up on your quiet words, his boots unshakeable even as he stepped on multiple uneven tree roots. "...Besides, this isn't my usual work. I investigate dangerous areas or suspects. My information isn't useful without someone to put it to good use. Helping others is inherently heroic. What I do isn't." He says, almost putting himself down as he spoke even if he didn't intent to. His tone was blunt and factual - he wasn't looking for reassurance.
"...Someone has to be the tester. Any important situation needs one." You say, your words sounding almost rehearsed as you spoke. Like you've heard it many times before. "...You fill a role no one else can."
He shifted his attention away from the crow, his head lifted up to look at you as you spoke. You didn't turn your head around though, only faced forward. He couldn't see what kind of expression was on your face.
-----
You opened the car door for him, letting him gently lower the bird onto the passenger seat of the car. The warm air that was somewhat there from the car heater was no longer in the vehicle, now it also reached the temperature of the cold air around you. Neither of you minded, but you still couldn't help the goosebumps crawling up your arms as a strong gust came every so often.
"Go watch it, I'll go check the back of the car." Zombieman said, resting the animal down before he swiftly walked away to open the boot of the car.
"O-Okay..." You nodded, briefly watching him move away from you two before you looked back down to the bird.
It had black ruffled feathers, and bright dark eyes. Eyes that seemed to stare deep into your inner being. It let out another echoing caw as it tried to fly again, getting up on it's feet. You quickly stepped forward, trying to discourage it's escape with your body. You hoped that you didn't actually have to touch it.
It stared up at you, then cried loudly. Clearly something of a battle cry as it then tried to fly - but was only able to hop forward.
You let out a fumbling cry of shock, your eyes seeing it fall off the car in slow motion. You had to catch it- You aren't wearing gloves- You can't touch it-
You have to catch it-
Your body moved on auto-pilot as your hands shot forward to catch it from falling to the dirt floor. Your brain knew, it fucking knew what would happen if you touched it, yet it still commanded it to move forward due to whatever fucking human nature you had left.
It's feathers grazed against the skin of your hands. Your body froze. It was warm. It was warm to touch even in the cold weather cooling the both of you down.
"Good catch," you heard distantly. You felt like you were submerged in a pool of ice water - you struggled to hear whatever was around you. Your eyes were frozen in place. Your body didn't listen to you. "Here, I found a first aid kit in the back."
You didn't process his words. You only watched the lively bird stumble on it's footing as you caught it. It blinked at you with something you'd call indignant anger. It would be right to be angry at you in a moment.
"You can put it down now," Zombieman said, clicking open the clasps on the box and pulled out some bandages. "We need to support it's wing with something strong." He carried on, unravelling the white gauze.
When he saw that you didn't listen to him, he reclarified for you. Maybe you didn't know what to get. "A straight strong stick should do. Go find one."
You still didn't move, and he finally looked up. He stared at you questioningly, not quite understanding the guilt ridden expression on your face until he looked down at your hands.
The black feathered bird was flopped over on your hands, it's eyes closed. It slumped over on it's wings and feet in a strange way. It's beak was open wide, trying to get something out that was never really there.
"...I think..." You say, your head turned over to face him, but he didn't really think you were looking at him. "I think your investigation is over."
...The crow was getting colder.
-----
"...I'm kinda like you." You started, sitting down in the car with dirt in stuck in your fingernails. You insisted on burying the crow before you explained everything. It was a request he easily granted - you had dug into the soft soil with your bare hands and covered the corpse with the same hands that killed it. "I'm... also like this because of human experimentation."
"...Go on." He said, nodding along.
"The lab, I'm sure you already know this, but they wanted to create antidotes. Something that would cure any poison. They obviously experimented on animals, but in the final stages, they wanted to test on a human subject. It was almost to fruition I think. And... My parents brought me in. I grew up in the lab." You sighed. "I wonder if they're even my real parents... What if..." You trailed off, the suspicions had clearly been weighing in your head for a long time. "...Never mind. That doesn't matter anymore. Anyways, one of the vials they gave me apparently wasn't the correct one. I started absorbing the poison in my body, almost like a storage box. No one realised at first."
"...Something happened, huh?" He said, picking up on your choice of words.
"...Yeah, they gave me some particularly strong poison or something to test out how my body would respond to the antidote they prepared. They didn't anticipate that I'd be able to absorb it alongside with the antidote." You let out something of a dry laugh. "That... was the last time I ever touched my mother. They cleared me to leave and I went up to her to say hi. She... collapsed on the ground, convulsing seconds later. After that, no one approached me without hazmat suits again. They quickly stopped working, after something else happened and they fled. My father was the last to go."
"...And that's when he gave you the instruction to stay until the level of toxins were acceptable?" He asked for confirmation. To which you nodded at him.
...Seeing everything fall into place has never felt so unsatisfying to him before.
He gave you a measured nod, his eyes never leaving the sight of your hunched over figure. "...So he sends you money to keep you somewhat alive?"
"...I don't know if he knows if I'm still alive." You shook your head. "Hell, I don't know if he's still alive himself. It's been... years. I only have the bank transactions from him as m only form as contact. I... still don't know if I killed my mother or if she's recovering somewhere."
He let out a quiet curse under his breath, leaning his arm against the window as you continued speaking.
They lived like this for years. Years.
"...I know what that place is, Zombieman." You say, your nails pressing tight against your skin, digging in. "I didn't want to admit it."
"...A prison?" He tried guessing when you didn't speak for a while, only to be met with a humourless laugh.
"Coffin. It's a coffin for me. I was born into a live burial - I'll live and die there." You say, your voice completely monotone. It was like a reporter going about the facts of the day. "The furthest place I've been from here. This... forest. And just by going once, I ruined the place. I can't just... leave. This was already a mistake."
He listened to you, watching the way you clutched yourself for some sort of support. He stayed quiet, examining your features carefully. Nothing on his corkboard prepared him for this - but perhaps his own personal experience of being on the other side could help.
He slowly forms the thoughts in his head - there wasn't much he could remember when he first left the lab he had escaped from, but he tried his best to gather what he could. What would have comforted him best? Well, probably the death of Dr Genus.
It was just a tad too slow - you had began speaking again.
"...When are you going to end me?"
He turned his head over to you, too quickly. "What?"
"You found the source of the poison." You say, leaning over to him from your seat. His breath hitched as you got closer. "You've known for a while, haven't you? So when are you going to do it? In my sleep? With a gun? Or an axe?"
It probably doesn't help, but at the mention of his weapons his eyes find their way over to their positions. "...I'm not going to murder you." He says, but didn't get up. He let you look down at him from where you were - it was probably the little bit of power you still had over him in your eyes. "You haven't done anything wrong."
"I made that crow die." You state, your retort coming back far too fast. "You saw me. One touch from me killed it. It was barely even a few seconds."
"...That doesn't warrant the death penalty." He sighs. "Nothing you've done deserves punishment of any kind, it's not your fault. None of it."
You stared at him with an unreadable expression on your face, he struggled to place what you were feeling at the moment despite it being the most vital time for him to be able to. "...I have a question," you say, almost reluctant to interrupt him. "If there was something that could only cause harm, why keep it?"
He doesn't given himself much time to think of his answer, knowing that the longer he took the more insincere he would sound to you. "I know many people who's only speciality is violence." He starts out, leaning a little closer to you as you took a step back from him, giving him more space. "...We call them heroes. Or monsters, depending on their intentions."
"...Are you one of these people?" You ask, your words feeling heavier than he expected for such a short question.
"I'd say so." He responded, his voice flat as he continued speaking. "...But a lot of people suspect me as a monster too. "
"...You're more than that." You said, tilting your head at him with scornful befuddlement. You looked upset, but not at him.
"Aren't you the same?" He mirrored the simple question to you.
There's silence from you, until he hears a small sniffle and you bring up one hand to wipe at your eyes. He's frozen solid for a second until he reaches over to a box of tissues nearby and offered it to you.
"No..." You shook your head. "No thanks, my tears will just melt it... Tried it, trust me..."
"...Yeah, that's what tissues tend to do in liquid long enough." He cracked the dry joke, trying to lighten your mood and still offering the box to you, just slightly further away.
"...No, they're..." You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out a shaky sigh as you forced yourself to bite back the tears. "My tears are corrosive. Highly corrosive."
"...Huh." He said, putting the box aside and stood up. "Would you like my coat instead?"
"...Why on Earth would I want that?" You say, the last of the tears running down your face as you stopped wiping it with your hands.
"...It's work clothes, I can get these replaced for basically free. It's cheaper than those tissues." He shrugged, trying to make another attempt to cheer you up seeing that you had stopped at this point. They were more stressed tears than anything, so your crying wouldn't have lasted long anyways.
You blinked at him before letting out a laugh, "no, no... It's okay... I don't want to accidentally hurt you. I'm fine now anyways."
"Mhm." He nodded, watching you sit back down on your seat. "...You know, I have a really, really smart colleague. He might be able to help you leave if you want."
"...Really?"
"He's the smartest person I know. And I've been kicking around for a while." He states a chuckle on his lips as he spoke. The only other person he could think of being close to Child Emperor was Dr Genus. There wasn't a chance in hell he'd let him anywhere near you.
"...Do you think he'd be willing to help?" You ask, the lilt of your voice going up a little higher, a sense of hopefulness leaking into your tone. "Or wait, would he be safe? I don't want to hurt him by accident..."
He nodded at your concerns as you spoke. "I've seen him analyse venomous monsters during the heat of battle and create antibodies on the fly. I think there's a strong chance."
"...Wow, he sounds really smart. Is he a hero like you?"
"Yes," he nodded, something you'd describe as pride adorned his features. "He's more of a hero than me, though. I could learn a lot from him."
"...I think you're far more of one than you think you are."
He's silent, staring back into your eyes. It takes the both of you a moment before either speaks. His voice breaks the silence gently, his words slow and purposeful as he spoke.
"...I think we should get going soon. We need to catch that train."
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