Work Text:
You found yourself ensnared in a relentless whirlwind of despair, the kind that envelops your soul like an oppressive, unyielding fog. Weeks had slipped by since you last dared to venture into the Slaughterhouse server, a desolate span of time that felt an eternity spent submerged in the depths of your own spiralling thoughts. Each passing moment seemed to usher in darker ideas, a cacophony of negativity that echoed relentlessly in your mind, growing louder with every day that stretched on. The physical manifestations of your emotional turmoil had become increasingly pronounced, etching themselves onto your skin like a tragic tapestry; each cut a desperate attempt to silence that insistent voice that never let you rest.
"You'll never be perfect," it whispered, cold and relentless.
"You'll never be enough," it taunted, dripping with disdain.
"You'll always be a girl in their eyes despite your stupid masquerade," it taunted, cutting like blades.
"They never wanted you," it sneered, echoing in the chambers of your heart.
Not V, who met you with cold, dismissive glances that pierced deeper than any blade. His eyes, once full of warmth, now felt like windows through which you could see the disinterest burning bright.
Not Angel, whose laughter always seemed to dance just out of reach, a distant echo that filled the air with a sweetness you could no longer feel. Each memory of joyful moments became a bitter reminder of how far life had pulled her away from you.
Not Misaki, who appeared to drift further into the ether with each fleeting moment, as if the very fabric of reality was unravelling between you, leaving nothing but a gaping chasm where closeness once thrived.
And certainly not Ronin. He had morphed into a puppeteer, skillfully pulling at the strings of your heart, leading you in a dance defined by his whims. The sweet, tender words he had once uttered now felt like a cruel joke—empty promises that had transformed into sharp daggers, only digging deeper into your senses and amplifying your dread. You couldn't rid yourself of the gnawing feeling that the end was drawing near; that soon he would grow weary of the thrill you had once provided, just like a predator who loses interest in its prey. After all, who keeps their food close for months unless they're savouring the thrill of the hunt, meticulously biding their time before they pounce at the first hint of weakness? Each heartbeat echoed this sorrowful truth, reminding you that the shadows were closing in, threatening to swallow you whole.
Your throat burned with unshed tears, but you swallowed them down. Sure, it was just you in your room, but you weren't going to show weakness. You would never. You had to keep up appearances. You were just the server's jester. A joke for them to mock.
Anger rising in your chest, you threw the plush you held in your hands at the door and began to pace around the room. Your usual methods for calming down were futile as more and more anguish bubbled up. You needed to rip your canines and claws into something or someone. You wanted to let the world know of your hurt, but a stupid thing called 'morals' held you back.
Grateful for the solitude of your empty apartment, you felt the weight of the world crashing down around you. With fierce desperation, you grabbed handfuls of your tangled hair, tugging at the roots as if that could root out the chaos swirling in your mind. The walls around you felt suffocating, echoing the screams that battled against the surface of your throat.
You screamed—not just for the present, but for the little girl who once danced in the sunlight, uninhibited and carefree, whose laughter had been stifled by the harsh realities of life. You screamed for the teenager who had yearned to shatter expectations, to be truly seen and understood, but who had been forced to wear a mask of conformity, hiding a vibrant spirit beneath layers of doubt and fear.
The sound that erupted from your chest turned raw and primal as you finally found a voice to represent the man you had become—broken, battered by the relentless trials of existence, each bruise etched into your soul, a testament to battles you fought silently. You felt as if you were unraveling, pieces of your identity slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.
That desperate cry echoed through the silence of your home, a haunting blend of anguish and yearning, a plea for liberation from the relentless torment of your own thoughts. In that moment, it was all too clear; you were a prisoner of your own making, longing for the release that seemed just out of reach.
That was when you heard something akin to glass shattering. You stopped your pacing, released your hair, and went over to your door, grabbing the metal baseball bat that Misaki gave you for your 21st birthday. With a sigh, you came out of your room and tiptoed to your living room, where the crash seemed to be. You swung your bat at the intruder, not caring who you hit, just glad that you could release your pain.
"Woah there, darling. Fiesty today, aren't we?" A voice rang through your ears. You kept your tears and true emotions bottled up as you opened your eyes. Oh, it was Ronin, Misaki, V, and Angel. And you almost hit Ronin with your bat. Shit. You kept your mouth shut and turned away, walking back to your room.
Ronin, Misaki, V, and Angel shared a look, a single thought forming. "We have to comfort him." They said at the same time. With a nod, they split up, Misaki and Ronin going to your room to help comfort you, Angel picking out something to watch, and V getting both snacks and a med kit ready for you. The others may not have noticed, but with him being the group's "watchdog", V surely noticed the way you kept glancing at your arms, almost as if you didn't want your sleeves to roll down...
Ronin and Misaki stood hesitantly just outside your door, the air thick with a palpable sense of anticipation. Misaki, with her fingers lightly brushing against the wood, knocked softly, her heart racing at the prospect of an audience inside. When no response came, Ronin, feeling the weight of the moment, stepped forward decisively. He grasped the doorknob and twisted it, but the door resisted slightly, catching on the plush item that had been chaotically thrown behind it mere minutes ago. With a firm push, he managed to create a narrow gap through which the quiet chaos of the room beyond could be glimpsed.
Inside, you were perched on your unmade loft bed, a jumble of sheets and pillows forming a dishevelled landscape around you. The bed itself was a tangle of fabric, some items haphazardly tossed aside, giving the room an air of neglect that seemed to mirror your current state of mind. You sat cross-legged, your legs protectively tucked beneath you, while your hands lay motionless in your lap, betraying a tension that belied the stillness of your figure. Your posture, unnaturally rigid with your back straight, despite nothing being behind it, created a stark contrast to the disarray around you. It was the subtle but telling pressure of your knees against the cold metal bar of the bed that indicated an underlying discomfort—a tightness that lingered in the charged silence of that moment, as the tension in the space twisted and turned like a coiled spring, waiting for release.
"Hey, baby," Misaki cooed softly, her voice a gentle caress that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. "We were wondering if you’d like to come with us to the living room to watch a movie and just hang out together." Her beautiful black eyes sparkled with affection as they gazed into yours, filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter. A lump formed in your throat, and you felt as though your mouth had turned to stone, so you shook your head gently, the words not able to escape your lips.
Ronin, ever the thoughtful one, tapped his chin in contemplation as he scanned your room. Then, an idea sparked in his eyes, and he noticed a plush toy from one of your favorite littlespace shows tucked away on your shelf. With an excited grin, he grabbed it and nudged Misaki, who instantly lit up like a candle in the dark.
“Look!” she exclaimed, cradling the plush thoughtfully in her hands. She brought it closer to you, holding it at eye level, and swayed it back and forth playfully. “Come on, little one,” she coaxed, her voice laced with sweetness. “Don’t you want to join Marshall for our movie night? I bet he’ll be so much happier with you there to hold him, don’t you think?” Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she teasingly pulled it just out of your reach when you tried to grab it.
Ronin stepped closer, kneeling by the staircase leading to your bed, and extended his hands with a warm smile. “Come on, baby boy,” he said gently, his voice soft like a lullaby. “I think it’s time you join us for movies and snacks, yeah? We’ve got everything set up just for you.” His encouraging words wrapped around you, filling the room with a kind of magic that made it hard to resist.
Finally nodding, you felt Ronin's strong arms lift you up in a comforting, bridal hold, the world feeling safe and secure as he carried you down the stairs. “I think it’s about time our prince joined us,” he teased lightly, his tone playful as he and Misaki led you out of your room, Misaki clutching the plush toy close to her chest as if it were the most precious treasure.
As you entered the living room, the sight that greeted you made your heart swell with joy: V and Angel had transformed the space into a cozy pillow fort, a whimsical hideaway filled with soft blankets and cushions that seemed to invite you to join the fun. The hustle and bustle of their laughter filled the air, and in an instant, your worries began to melt away.
You sniffed softly, wiping a lingering tear from your cheek as you stepped into the warmth of the fort, where smiles, giggles, and a sense of belonging awaited you with open arms.
Ronin set you down in the middle of the sea of blankets and pillows, your four partners joining right after. V sat on your left, Angel on your right, with Ronin taking up the space between you and Angel, and Misaki the space between you and V.
"Let me see your arm, little one." V's honeyed voice coaxed, and you gave him your arms. "Now, let's see, what should we watch, hm, my prince?" Angel's velvety voice hummed, a welcome distraction from V's doctoring. Once you picked one out, it being a musical, V finally finished patching you up. "Here, love, take this," it was one of Angel's oversized hoodies. She took your current top off, mindful of your chest, the movie distracting you from your chest, and put her hoodie on you, the soft fabric enveloping you. You sniffed the collar and purred, noting that it smelled of Angel's strawberry perfume.
"That's a good boy. Get comfortable, baby. I think it's time you turn this," V gently tapped your forehead, "off." Complying, you snuggled further into your partners and let your body fully relax for the first time in weeks. The movie marathon continued in the peaceful bubble you five made together. Angel gave you snacks periodically, V kisses, and Ronin and Misaki gave commentary and karaoke. You couldn't be happier. Their tiny prince was protected by his four knights.