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seesgood · 4 years ago

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can we very gently talk about call out posts / culture really quick? not in a judgmental way, but in like a: i just want to pose a thought and explain why i’m never going to buy into it and why i wish it would become less of a trend instead of more of one? and i’ll add the disclaimer here: i totally get not wanting certain people around you for various reasons, that is all your prerogative. that’s your comfort level. but in emphasizing “your blog should be a safe space” we’re kind’ve losing sight of the fact that the rpc should also be a safe space, and as much as your comfort and safety matter, so do other people’s. and not just the person who hurt you, but the third parties and other mutuals and 99.9% of people who are not at all involved in any way in whatever happened. so, anyway here goes, read it or don’t, we all have different opinions or reasons, i just want to be heard:

people are allowed to change. think back to who you were last year. two years ago. think about the stuff you said when you were seventeen, or twenty-one, or hell whatever age you were. current-you would probably cringe at the kind of stuff past-you had to say. because you grew. you learned. you had life experiences. in hindsight you have the freedom to be like “oof yeah that was not the best version of myself right there damn i don’t want to be like that again.” the growing trend of ‘here’s a 10+ page google doc complete with out of context screenshots that sometimes date back to like 2017 or earlier’ makes this kind of change impossible. because right there, you’ve just frozen a person in time, probably not at their best, removed any and all amounts of context, and put it on the internet and let other people judge it for themselves.

so that leads into another point that i want to just kinda present to the community at large: the act of documenting behaviors and storing them for months / years at a time, in itself creates a super unsafe environment, not just for you, your friends, the people who have hurt you --- but also for anyone else that isn’t at all involved in whatever happened. like, for example, i like to think that i’m a pretty nice person. i actively try to be a nice person. am i sometimes not having the best day? have people definitely caught me in bad moments? oh hell yeah. but am i, as someone who tries really hard to be nice and welcoming, constantly thinking through every message i send to someone knowing that a) i could have a reputation that makes them read into context that isn’t there and that could contribute to them misinterpreting words i meant in a different way, b) very aware that every post i make, ask i send, message i send can at any moment be screenshotted and posted and taken out of context and either serve as someone’s only opinion of me or pile on to someone’s existing opinion of me? yeah. so in my experience, and based on people i’ve talked to, we now have this thing where you can be surface-friends wtih a lot of people, but if you want to survive in the tumblr rpc you should really only have 2-3 people that you really trust that you can actually talk about shit with.

and lately i’ve been seeing a resurgence of posts on my dash about like “bring back xyz in the rpc” or “the reason the rpc is like this is because of xyz” and i both agree and disagree with a lot of this, but primarily i think the reason the rpc is Off lately is because everyone and their cousin has a DNI, which is --- again --- your decision and i understand and respect that, but while you know the context of every name on that DNI, other people don’t. and to be honest: other people don’t really care and honestly maybe they shouldn’t care. --- and don’t get me wrong, your friends should care if someone has hurt you. that’s important. but joe billy bob who just wants to write their character with yours is going to read through your rules, they’re going to see “do not interact with me if you follow with or interact with these people you’ve never heard of and if you want me to tell you why just message me” (which no one is ever going to do, i’m sorry to say). and say, joe billy bob also followed that other person because they were like ‘omg this blog looks cool’ --- now joe billy bob, who just wants to write cool plots, is suddenly the middle-man in some type of drama that they do not understand, and maybe they’re able to remove themselves from the situation, but even then it’s still in the back of your mind.

this is getting long. it’ll be longer, but let’s take a brief break for me to remind you that in some cases, it’s definitely good to give your mutuals and friends a heads up when someone has done something really, really bad. like, remember x amount of years ago when some dude was like ‘i’m gonna make up a new person and say they died by suicide as a social experiment’ or ‘hey this person actively tries to force very triggering plots about abuse / rape / incest onto people and has been doing so for years and does not seem to change their ways no matter how many people try to educate them’ that’s shit people should probably know about. and it’s also okay ( in my opinion ) for your friends to be able to message you like ‘hey i saw you’re writing with x and i just wanted to let you know i had this experience with them’ if that’s something they feel comfortable doing. and if they are comfortable with you still having the autonomy to make your own decision regarding the person.

i’ll be honest, for a second: i’ve been part of friendships and groups that have turned really toxic for one reason or another. a handful of times. there are probably people out there that are like “yeah this chick is really fake and manipulative and etc, i was friends with her back in 2019″ which, okay. yeah. i’ve definitely done shit and said shit that was not the most representative of who i want to be and who i want to become, and you probably have to. because we are human beings and we are a product of our social groups and the community around us. and you shouldn’t be chained to a version of you that isn’t you anymore. people change. they grow. you don’t have to like them, but you should respect that sometimes people don’t mesh, and that doesn’t mean any of them are bad people, it just means the experience was bad.

a few additional notes i would like to make but i’ve already gone on way too long:

90% of the callout posts that i’ve seen and the DNI’s that i’ve seen can, in my opinion, be classified as a friend group thing. you were friends with x, x did something, now y and z aren’t friends with x anymore. pain is a very, very real thing and people hurting you should never be minimized, but at some point i just want you to remember that not every friendship is going to end happily, but both you and the other party should be allowed to move on and grow better, healthier friendships after. rehashing Friend Group Gone Wrong instances removes that ability for not only person x, but also person y and z.

you putting out a callout says just as much ( maybe more ) about you than it does about the other person. which sucks. because i’d like to think we all have great intentions, and i’m not saying that you should swallow your pain, but it might not be the kind of thing that impacts the community at large, and maybe you should try to find a better way of working through it with a trusted friend(s)

i’m going to be very real and very blunt on this one: literally no one cares. i say that with love. i’m good friends with people who have each other on their DNI’s. establish a baseline of respect and ‘i’m not going to say anything to them about you and vice versa because there’s no need for me to do so’ and move on. but seriously. no one cares. most outside people read callout posts because they like being in the know about the drama, not because they actually care.

person a and person b who are mentioned in the DNI / callout aren’t the only ones who are going to be affected. your friends, your mutuals, your writing partners are now all put in a weird spot where you have to pick sides on an issue you know nothing about and shouldn’t have to know anything about. you’re asking people to choose sides on an issue they cannot fully understand, and that’s not fair to them or to you. and it drives great people away. and then we all lose out on having more awesome people in the rpc.

you’re entitled to your safe space, but this is a public platform and you are also responsible for maintaining your safe space. you shouldn’t put it entirely on other people to do that for you. you can block, blacklist, make up funny names for, or spitefully erase from your many anything and anyone that you wish. but you shouldn’t make your friends do it for you.

there’s always an inherent power imbalance when any kind of drama occurs between those who have more followers / friends / connections and those who do not. and the smaller blog is always going to suffer a little bit more because they don’t have people blindly coming to their defense.

bad moments, bad experiences, bad decisions DO NOT equal bad people.

allow people to make up their own mind about something or someone

anywho, if you read through this whole thing i think i owe you financial compensation. but also thank you for reading / listening / considering. even if you rolled your eyes through the whole thing like “stfu lia” that’s fine. i’m just presenting an alternative thought. i’d like to once again state: i’m not judging you if you’ve made a callout/DNI or if you’re on a callout/DNI. like i literally don’t care. and frankly, in my opinion, i shouldn’t have to. because i, and you, and your friends, and your mutuals, and your non-mutuals should be allowed the space to make up their own opinion and mind on something or someone without being told that there will be consequences if they don’t agree with you. set boundaries. communicate in healthy ways. you don’t have to forgive the people who have hurt or wronged you, but you also don’t get to decide that their actions make up 100% of who they are as a person, or decide that that is the only side of that person people should get to see.

#ʟᴇᴛ’s ᴛᴀʟᴋ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʀ��ʟᴇs ⸺ psa.#/ long post cw.#when i say long i mean LONG #i could do an entire dissertation on this #i could do a ted talk #but ys know #if anyone wanted to do some ahem non-light reading this morning #*jazz hands*#( if you want to reblog this monstrosity you definitely can )

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woozi · 4 years ago

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Um this might be annoying but your descriptions on that mutuals as svt members was so wholesome! So I thought if you could name your mutuals and say what you like abt them? Your favorite thing about them kinda? Idk I thought it was cute but you don't have to do it if you don't want to ! 💚💚💚

i went through my following list and i think these are all of my carat mutuals/friends <3 i only included those who i'm mutuals with here on this blog, but with that in mind i hope i included the right people/and all of you! if not, i may have gotten confused with your main and sideblogs. :/ i divided this into 4 sections (because that's how i think of them in my head, lol). so, without further ado, here they are in the order of my following list (from the most recent):

caratblr

@leechaerok (mirelle) - mi!! i love how you are always striving to be positive and that this is something you share and extend to other people! you literally remind me of sunshine and i hope that only good things are coming ur way. ily!!

@ohoshi (cora) - cora my naughty (IN A PLAYFUL WAY) friend <3 cora's really fun to talk to and she keeps you on your toes. idk why i didn't follow her earlier (i didnt know i wasn't following her jsdjkdsjsdk). extremely talented!! also love the upbeat vibe.

@soonyoungs (cara) - same with cora, i've been seeing cara around but never got to interact with her until recently! i love how versatile cara is and how she always always always appreciates even the little things. 10/10 would let her visit my home again <3

@wrongnanab (aya) - i get mom/older sister friend vibes from aya and i think it suits her a lot. she’s also not afraid of reaching out and i love that sm about her!! i relate to her a lot and i love how she’s always there.

@junhaoshua (e) - something interesting always comes up every time i speak to e! i also love her initiative and how well she manages her time. she’s really passionate about the things she likes and i love how she can get people to be interested in them too!

@choibeomgyus (kale) - kale has excellent taste! i love her aes so much. <3 her work is particularly right up my alley and i just love how clean looking they are. kale’s also such a sweet friend, and she’s not shy about showing affection. i love her sm!!

@dokyom (izy) - izy’s one of the first carats i first followed when i got into caratblr and i’m so glad to have made that decision! her work always wows me and although we haven’t talked much, she’s one of the people i always look out for in here.

@seohoshi (nele) - nele, my mutual at heart. <3 the way we became mutuals is so funny and memorable to me, and i can’t say that about most people! i really like the way nele presents herself as well. she can have fun while still being collected, which i find really interesting. i think she’s someone who brings stability, but i can’t really explain why i get that from her. <3

@art-hao (carrie) - goddess on earth. so elegant. a literal virgo. i love how carrie doesn’t want to be too invested in one single thing. that being said, she’s multitalented, yet is skilled in each of the fields she’s venturing in. she also speaks what’s on her mind, and i admire that a lot. what can’t this woman do :/

@svtreasure (kate) - kate is one of the first people i got to talk to here on caratblr! and although she’s not on here that much, i always look forward to seeing her. i feel like i have to protect her like a younger sibling <3

@uriboogyu (lee) - lee definitely has feisty younger sibling vibes which i think is so cute! like carrie and e, she’s not afraid of saying what’s on her mind. lee is also such a go-getter! the future is very bright for this one <3

@smallkore (kore) - i remember first talking to kore after she tagged all 3 of my active blogs in one post, and i thought it was kind of funny <3 kore is super talented and entertaining! i also think she’s super interesting, and i love her strange picture collection. <3

@rq-s (katrina) - katrina is also one of the first few people who i interacted with here on caratblr! she is so supportive and always has a nice word for everyone. even though she isn’t here much, i always like seeing her around <3

@boosbin (isa) - iconic. legend. will kick your ass. my beloved <3 isa is SUPER talented and she never fails to amaze me. she’s also very relatable and is super fun to talk to! idk i’m just really fond of isa lol

@dk-s (zay) - i love zay’s sense of style and her overall aesthetic! she also is really smart and gets really invested in her interests. i love her dedication and initiative!

@scoupsy (dreamy) - dreamy and i haven’t really talked much aside from interactions here and there, but she’s someone i really admire. i love how she doesn’t take anyone’s shit and knows what she wants. she’s really skilled in her areas of interest and takes pride in her excellent work. love that about her!!

@julyprince (madison) - i was really shocked when madison followed me back because i love her work so much! i love how she is so consistent and dedicated (honestly, the constant 9 sets say it all <3). she’s intimidating at first, but she is actually so nice and likes reaching out!

@xuseokgyu (belle) - one of my treasured moots. belle is literally the seok to my soon. <3 she doesn’t know it, but i was kind of shy during my earlier days in caratblr, and she encouraged me to be myself just because she was always reaching out to me. i see belle as someone who really nurtures and is just a reliable older sister for me!

@haniehae (anna) - also one of my favorites <3 anna doesn’t really need too much words but u can always feel the love from her by her little tags here and there. she’s also super supportive and very appreciative of the little things! anna is such a cute person to have around. i lalso love how much work she puts into caratblr. also an amazing dancer oh my god???????

@jaemtens (kevin) - like dreamy, kevin and i haven’t really talked much, but i always love seeing him on the dash! one of the people i admire. it absolutely blows my mind how he has a phd (about to have one? :D) and that he’s still somehow able to make gifs (BEAUTIFULLY!) consistently. love that dedication, wish that were me!!

@tearsofsyrup (vi) - vi thinking of me and tagging me on cute stuff really just makes me feel so :’>. i love how easygoing vi is and i just feel light whenever we interact!!

@soonhoonsol (chey) - everyone’s bestie!! chey literally is the go-to person on caratblr. idk how she manages to do it but she’s always so nice to everyone and really does go out of her way to make everyone feel comfortable! chey has a special place in my heart, and my stay in caratblr wouldn’t be the same without her. <3

@iiasha (emily) - you all don’t understand how much i LOVE emily. i can’t even explain why i love her i just do. she’s also one of the first people i followed when i came on caratblr and i’m so glad to have met her here on our own personal hellsite. emily’s the perfect balance of smart, cool, and funny (this sentence sounds lame as fuck but idk how else to put it)! i appreciate how much she likes her job and that’s something i hope to also imitate! i’ve said it before but i also really love how generous she is. emily also made my stay here on caratblr very enjoyable and i always love reading her text posts <3 i think tumblr junation would nearly die without her so go thank her rn. (she also spotted me turning full dinonara without me even noticing that i am one so. <3 /mwah/)

@coupsnim (izzie) - izzie gives me calm artsy vibes. her work is always stunning omg. queen of red lips (and i think it’s so fitting bc it suits cheol the best imo???). ALSO love how much she loves cheol!! izzie’s just a sweetheart. <3 would also support ur 0 note posts, lol.

@kyeomshine (lyns) - lyns coloring queen <3 i looove how clean and cohesive her work always is! she’s also one of the people who encouraged me to stay here on caratblr (although she doesn’t know it!!). and though we don’t see lyns as much nowadays, i still think of her as the resident dk fan <3 one of the memorable people for me.

@heartgyus (rhys) - my sister (dISGUSTANG!!). my enemy. THE mutual to have homoerotic subtext with. rhys is actually my closest friend on caratblr. she’s multitalented, almost all-knowing, and has prettie vibes. i’m not elaborating anymore from here on out because i just know she’s gonna be a little devil about it on the dms. 🙄

@hanwooz (kellie & christine) - one of my absolute favorite blogs! i think of them as one of the constants of caratblr. i absolutely love their posts sm and just enjoy when they’re around!! (and how do ur gifs always look good omg tell me ur secrets pls <3)

@7ww (yasmin) - one of my favorite (if not my favorite) gfx maker!! i love how you can immediately tell something is from her because of their trademark look. we haven’t talked yet, but she’s one of my favorite carats!

@mngys (sofi) - coolest person in the world. idk why we’re even mutuals i don’t deserve this <3 sofi always has the coolest ideas and i look up to her sm!! i’ve also seen her from the birdie community before i got into caratblr so i’ve been following her for quite some time now, but we became mutuals here!

aes carats

@vixenjun (kaya) - another one of my beloveds <3 i always say kaya is funnie and sexie but she really is, and those are always the first words i think of when i’m reminded of her. one of my absolute favorites. a bestie that's close to my heart. <3

@tiddie (deniz) - i don’t see deniz posting much about svt anymore, but deniz is one of my first carat moots (i followed aes carats first). this one really witnessed my jeonghan downfall. :/ so funny. is a great friend!!

@bwaldorf (ramasha) - A SWEETHEART!! ramasha and i don’t talk much anymore but when i think of her i only am reminded of good things. i rmb how much she supported my weird posts back then <3 also iconic aes hello????

@vernons (oona) - oona and i are literally just vibing here <3 i actually met her from the aes side of tumblr before i got into caratblr (like deniz) and discovered that she’s also a carat! i really like oona’s presence and i just feel like she’s someone i want to protect. <3 also makes amazing pastries. she’s also so pretty!!!!! (i really like ur hair sm i think i’ve said this before lol) a cute friend. would send u things saying ‘this reminded me of u’, and i’d get heart attacks from it jsdjdjksd

@oldbooks (fawn) - my frog friend. i think it’s so cute that fawn shares this agenda with hao <3 also unexpectedly tags you on things and leaves cute little notes/tags that makes me want to :’). sophisticated taste!! also really friendly. ily!!

@scoups (hani) - hani is so friendly and takes really good care of her friends!! i was intimidated of her at first, but learnt that she’s an absolute sweetheart. i love how she’s also giving us sm svt content when she’s around! hani’s a supportive friend that you’ll always find yourself looking for.

@snwo (joy) - refined taste. funny text post advocate. i love joy’s vibe sm!! i first got to know her when she had a hao url and i was super intimidated of her. now she’s one of my absolute besties! aside from her impeccable taste, she’s also such a great friend. this one always has ur back. ily ms joy <3

@sataemism (sof) - sof literally the funniest person in the world!! i’m always happy to see her and she brings me so much joy. very lowkey chaotic vibe (the taemin and hoshi urls speak a lot abt this lol), and just a very fun person overall!!

birdie carats

@flowerbeom (kat) - kat, like the rest of those in this category, is someone i’ve been following for a while now as i came back to tumblr because of got7. kat and i haven’t really talked much but always interact with rb/s and likes and i love that JSDJSDKJDSJ that being said kat’s tags are always so enjoyable to read. + it’s so funny as well that when we actually got to talking we didn’t realize we had a lot in common! a very generous friend. gave me a yugyeom pc even though i’m literally from another continent. 😭

@tuanzie (joanna) - content queen. i looove how joanna’s work has a trademark look to them! they’re always so gorgeous and smooth-looking. i love how joanna’s able to speak her mind and would not take shit from people. i see her as someone brave, but not too out there! also someone you can rely on to put reposters on hit lists mwah<3

@gotseventeens (belle) - my name twin <3 belle is actually one of the people/reasons why i got into svt and i’m eternally grateful to her for that!! we’ve been talking since i first became a birdie but somehow we both have 0 recollections of our conversations JSDJDKSJKSDJ tumblr wouldn’t be as fun for me if belle weren’t around ngl. i love how she seems to be mature yet you’re also up for a wild ride with her!! she’s my own personal wonu <3

@secndlife (karoline) - i’ve also been following karoline since i was a birdie, but we only became mutuals here! i love her writing so much and i enjoy seeing her lose her mind over hoshi (mood <3)

@defgyus (val) - i often associate belle with val and i think they have a lot of similarities!! val also gives me the mature yet fun vibe. i think val’s so successful and i admire her a lot!! i love her work sm and just love how she interacts with people. very warm and homey!!

more carat moots i haven't really talked to but enjoy seeing on the dash

@emailclub (emily), @kyeomblr (maddie), @joshuahong (bea), @delicatecy (deli), @mintyseoks, @syuperseventeen (nat), @haol (mali), @svtclub (hannah), @cutiejoshi (siri), @chanswu (mandy), @jeonghannie (myrena), @squishy-woozi (kris), @wonwooo (hiba), @rameniji (rain), @cafevernon (ish), @hoshluv, @minghyu (nicole), @mingyiu (katya), @yeol (tat), @dearkyeom (kristy), @seokgyus (kai), @bbaksu (akemi), @1adyluck (sushi), @shineesbag (gen)

#i didn't know i had this many mutuals lol #and i just figured out i was mutuals with some just now sdkjkjdkjsd #also #are u my mutual anon <3 #y.ask #anon

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everlarkficexchange · 4 years ago

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Written by: @alliswell21

Title: One of Us

Prompt 145: She moves in with her aunt and uncle when her parents dies in a small town. After suffering through trama, Katniss slowly starts to get better with the help of her family (aunt, uncle, cousin) and the Mellark brothers. But when things starts happening to her and the people around her, it’s revealed that she and almost everyone in the towns are apart of the werewolf pack and that one of the Mellark brothers is her mate. #werewolves [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Rated: G for general audiences.

Tags: Canon Divergent!AU; Modern with a dash of Supernatural; Grief/Mourning; Feeding as a Language of Love.

Note: This is my final submission to this year's EFE challenge! Yay! I really am grateful to @xerxia31 and @javistg for their continued support of this fandom and for hosting once again this event. You are such amazing people, and I’m absolutely honored to be part of a community with people as amazing as you two are! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for keeping EFE alive!

@animekpopxx, thank you too! You feed my muse! And you give me Werewolves!!!!

This story was a bit of rushed job, though, and there’s more of it, I mean... we haven’t seen them turn into wolves yet!!! 🤣 I just didn’t have time to edit the complete fic before the deadline, but if you’d like to read the finished product, keep an eye out for it on AO3. I’m fairly sure the rating will keep, but we will see.

Kpkpkpk

There’s nothing but the sound of crickets and frogs filling the vast darkness of the night.

It’s another moonless night out here in Panem… or is I like to call it ‘the middle of nowhere’. It’s weird, how dark nights feel here, there’s barely a start peeking tonight, but in a strange way, I like it.

Sitting on my aunt and uncle’s porch to watch the infinite dark ahead while listening to the nocturnal critters it’s about my favorite thing to do… it’s what did used to do when we came here for long summer stays, anyway. He used to say he felt at peace and relaxed, connected with nature. Too bad it took him to be gone, for me to appreciate what he meant by that. So every night I come out here and sit in the steps hugging my knees, staring at nothing but the deep, black night surrounding the cabin, whisking my dad was sitting next to me.

Tonight is different than usual, though. It was raining until recently, and the smell of wet earth is so familiar my chest feels tight and my throat is knotted.

“Petrichor, Katniss,” I mumble the words noiselessly, “is the smell of rain, hun. It smells the same everywhere in the world.”

I lean my chin on my knees, wishing I could go back to feeling numb like when my parents just died. But thinking of the word petrichor, while smelling the thing, is bring forth a plethora feelings and memories I don’t know how to handle.

Dad used to love Scrabble, crossword puzzles and trivia challenges. He tried to get me interested in those games, teaching me words and their meanings, every time he had a chance.

I wish I had been more enthusiastic about learning the darned stuff; it would’ve meant an extra moment spent with Dad, and less regret to feel right now.

An involuntary whine leaves my chest. It hurts to think about it, and not for the first time, I dig my nails into my skin to keep myself rooted in place, and not tear running into the void.

I feel like I’m spiraling out of control, I fear this time something will break in my head and I’ll do something crazy, like scratch my skin away and run wild into the woods, like a beast… but the overwhelming thoughts gets halted when I hear soft noises from out in the distance.

It’s like the crunching of footsteps on the gravel at the mouth of my aunt and uncle’s property. It’s too dark and isolated here, deep into the country. I’ve seen big wildlife roaming around: deer, raccoons, coyotes and even a lynx. But the longer I hear the noises, the more certain I am I’m being stalked by something big and fast.

My heart beats erratically in my chest; every hair in my body stands on point, fear is clawing its way up my chest and into my throat, my eyes feel about to pop from my skull, and then I’m disentangling my knees from my arms, standing up as tall as I can— which isn’t saying much��and then I call into the night, “Who’s there?!”

I hear a faint disturbance of air, and then…

“Good evening, Katniss!”

Slowly, from the shadows, a blonde head pops, eerie for a second. Broad shoulders follow, and then a torso. Before the rest of his body comes visible into the light of the porch, two more blonde heads come into view, flank the first person on either side: Shoulders, torsos, Jean covered legs… The three Mellark brothers make their way leisurely towards me.

I nearly faint from relief after the rush of adrenaline pumping in my veins. Going through so many emotions: grief, sorrow, dread and relief, so fast in such a short amount of time has left me winded and unsteady.

I lose my balance, but one of the boys— Peeta, the youngest— breaks ranks, and rushes to hold me upright.

“Are you okay?” He asks softly, helping me sit back down on the porch steps. I lean my head against the main post.

“I’m okay. Just a little lightheaded,” I try not to glare. They gave me a fright, but I doubt they did it on purpose.

It’s something I’ve learn over the years. People in Panem are kind of quirky.

“Sorry we scared you,” Peeta offers, sheepishly. “We wanted to check up on you, and bring you something…” he looks up at his two older brothers and Rye — the middle one— steps forward, holding up a brown, paper bag, with little greasy spots on the sides.

I can guess what’s inside. They’ve been bringing me cheese buns almost daily, since Peeta found out they’re my favorites.

Rey hands the baggie to Peeta, and the latter offers it to me with a soft smile.

“Thanks,” I mumble, gratefully. I can smell the cheesy, yeasty treat through the bag; I can feel the warmth of the buns too! “While I love freshly baked cheese buns, you guys didn’t have to make this trek just to bring me a treat… on a dark, moonless night no less,” I fix them with a glare. “How did you even get here anyway? You couldn’t have walked and I never saw a car coming?”

My aunt and uncle’s cabin is at least 4 miles from town, and surrounded by woods; but then again, most houses in this weird little place are built in similar locations. It seems the townsfolk take their privacy extremely seriously.

“We rode our dirt bikes,” chimes Rye in, cheerily. “Not much light on those bulbs, though, but it’s okay. Our night vision is prime!” He gives me the A-Okay gesture.

“Rye,” the eldest, Bannock, warns lowly. Baring his teeth.

Rye shrugs and slips his hands on his Jean pockets.

I swear Rye hisses something like “it’s true” under his breath, but Peeta has been rubbing my back with the tip of his fingers all this time, and I’m getting drowsy, so I may have imagined the whole exchange.

“You should eat those while they’re still warm,” Peeta murmurs close by my shoulder.

I nod, and open the bag, releasing all the delicious smells of the buns, while Peeta massages my shoulders, encouragingly.

I must be really out if it tonight, because outside of my family, I’ve never been comfortable with people touching me… but, my family is all gone now, and I can’t go through the rest of my life without human touch, can I?

Grief stricken me out of nowhere, and barrels through me. I gasp at the acute pain in my soul at the loss of my parents. But in an instant, I’m enveloped in strong, thick arms, warm and steady. I’m sobbing into a hot, solid chest, covered in the softest cotton I’ve ever felt.

“Shush… I’ve got you, Katniss. I’m here for you,” Peeta whispers soothingly into the crown of my head.

He smells so good; like cinnamon and dill, from the bread he must’ve made this afternoon at his family’s bakery.

It takes a few minutes for me to get a hold of myself, and embarrassedly push out of his embrace, “I’m sorry,” I mumble, mortified.

Bannock presents me with a handkerchief, and I take it gratefully to wipe off my face and nose, before returning the soiled square of fabric to him.

I’m not sure why the Mellark brothers are being so nice to me. I’ve never been around them more than a handful of days over the past few years, when we came to see Dad’s remaining family outside mom and I, his half brother, his wife and their child.

I don’t know the Mellarks all that well, but in the handful of weeks since my parents’ funeral, the three brothers have been incredibly attentive and generous to me. Peeta more than the other two, but I don’t mind… I like him best anyway.

“It’s okay to cry and be devastated, Katniss.” Says Bannock, sagely. “You’re going through the worst time of your life, and we care for you… like family.”

“Oh,” I sit straighter, blowing my nose. I feel a little strange hearing him say that, “thank you? I appreciate your kindness,”

He nods, “Peeta’s right, though. You should eat the cheese buns before they go cold.”

“A full stomach always helps me feel better,” Rye adds, patting his belly, and smiling at me.

My stomach growls, as if to show agreement. I am hungry. I didn’t touch my supper earlier. I pick up the bakery gingerly, and pretty much shove my nose into it. The steam curls out of the baggie, filling my nostrils with the delicious smells. I pluck out a bun and practically inhale it in a second; quickly followed by another one. My third cheese bun, I decide to savor, slowly.

The Mellark siblings just hang around while I devour my treats.

The front door opens just as I’m wiping my hands on my leggings. My aunt’s head peeks out of the door.

“Oh, why hello everyone!” She greets, as bubbly as always. She’s wearing a dark purple wig, to match her dark purple outfit.

“Good evening, Effie,” says Peeta, standing from his squatting position next to me. “We brought Katniss a gift,” he points at the now empty bag in his hand.

“How sweet of you, Peeta!” my aunt gushes, “thank you for checking on our girl, and making sure she’s put something in her tummy before bedtime!”

I roll my eyes. Aunt Effie keeps treating me like a kid. I hate it. I’m 17 and mourning, not a freaking baby!

“It’s no problem at all, Effie! We were just on our way home anyway.”

“Well, it’s always nice having you boys over,” she offers, “but it’s getting late, and Primrose is already in bed, which is why I came out here to begin with, to let Katniss know that her sister was already asleep, so she’d know to tip toe back inside when she was ready to go to bed herself,” my aunt smiles.

I feel a slight pang of guilt; I’ve been wallowing in my own sadness this evening, and missed tucking my sister in to sleep. She’s the only person I’m sure I love, yet tonight I’ve let my own misery drown me.

“Don’t mind us, Effie,” Says Bannock, “We were about to leave…” he pauses and then calls a meaningful, “Peeta?”

“I’m going to wish Katniss a good night, and then we’ll go,” he says.

Not for the first time, I wonder if Peeta has a crush on me? I wouldn’t know he did, even if I wasn’t feeling so rotten inside. I’m not very good at flirting… but with Peeta it is different I think. He’s so nice to me, he’s taken up asking if I’ve eaten that day and if I haven’t, he feeds me something from his family’s bakery without charging me… it’s like he actually cares for me and my well-being, and his brothers care, because he does. It’s mesmerizing at times.

Peeta looks me in the eyes, “Are you ready to go inside?” He asks, offering his two open palms to me. He helps me up from the floor, and then smiles sweetly. He doesn’t let go of my hands while we stand facing each other.

Then something strange happens. Peeta doesn’t blink, as his clear-blue eyes bore into mine, and then his pupils blow out full, until only a ring of deep, glowing azure remains for his irises, “Sleep well, Katniss,” his voice sounds deeper and warmer than usual, “Rest and have a relaxing, dreamless night. Remember what I said: we are all here for you, to help through this hard time… alright?”

I feel groggy, “Yes, Peeta,” I mumble feeling my eyelids getting heavier.

“Oh dear, can you please instruct her to walk herself to bed? She might look lithe, but I promise, her little body is as heavy as any of us,”

Huh? What’s aunt Effie going on about? I don’t understand.

Peeta chuckles, squeezing my hands warmly in his, “You heard Effie… don’t fall asleep until you’ve gone into your bedroom and change into comfy pajamas.”

I nod, “Okay,”

“Good night, Katniss, I’ll be back tomorrow. Try to eat something on your own, I know you’re sad, but you need your strength for when the solstice comes.”

What a weird thing to say! Everything is strange here though… so I nod and march inside the house, mumbling my good nights to everyone and rubbing my very sleepy eyes. Once I’m in my sleep clothes, I lay in bed, and try to ignore the yearning of having Peeta rubbing my back like he was doing while I ate my cheese buns.

I sigh and go to sleep, a weird thought pops into my mind: “I’m so lucky to have such a sweet, caring mate. Peeta Mellark. Can’t wait to be bonded with him,”

#alliswell21 #animekpopxx #prompt 154 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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demoneyesanddamagedsouls · 4 years ago

Text

Sparring Partners

Chapter 3: Infiltrate The Enemy

A/N: Alright so this is Chapter 3 of this fic, I got a little carried away with this chapter that's why the word count is more than last time. We're starting to get into the thick of it now! I have a feeling that each chapter will probably get longer and longer as I go cause I'm just enjoying writing it so much. Feedback and comments as always are so welcome, I’d love to hear your thoughts, and if you’d like to be tagged for the upcoming chapters just let me know! xxx

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F! Reader

I have also just created a playlist for ya’ll to listen to while reading. I hope it gets you even more invested! ✨COCKY COWBOY PLAYLIST✨

Summary: You and Agent Whiskey are long time rivals. As Statesman agents you both have been put up for the same promotion and this mission is your final chance to prove yourself. Have you got what it takes?

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Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Slight Language, Canon-typical violence (got heavier on this one, blood, pain, choking, weapon usage)

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CHAPTER 3: Infiltrate The Enemy

Driving through city, listening to the soft sounds of the radio, you head towards the hospital. Mentally preparing yourself for the day ahead you run through your fake persona. You were going undercover as a young medical student in training that had been transferred from your university to take up a short placement at the CleanPlanet facilities. With all that you had learnt over the years helping Ginger out with certain tech and patching up different injuries you felt that you had a slight grasp on some basic medical terminology and concepts. You simply needed to blend into the background and focus on the mission at hand.

Continuing along you begin to leave the hustle and bustle of the city life, moving further out into the outskirts of town. The hospital was in a more remote area, another way to keep suspicious, prying eyes away from their experiments you thought, as you continued along the rather empty road. As you approach the multi storeyed hospital complex you notice the large wire fence which circled the perimeter of the area, the gates at the front wide open for visitors. You drive onto the lot and park in the staff area to the right, inside the gate. Taking a deep breath, you collect yourself, brushing the loose strands of hair that had fallen out of your ponytail and tucking them behind your ear. Pulling out the earpiece from the small box that Ginger had given you, you quickly tuck it behind the arm of your glasses at the top of your ear to hide it from view.

Grabbing your bag from the backseat of the car, you take out your lab coat that Ginger had given you and pulled it over your shoulders. Pulling your knees up you pull your small throwing knives out of your duffle, strapping a few to your thighs. You weren’t about to go into this hostile situation without being prepared. Pulling your lab coat around you to cover up your hidden weapons you hop out of your personas rundown car and start walking towards the hospitals main entrance. Curiously, you notice a lot of doctors, other professionals, and a few security guards here and there wandering around the perimeter of the fence.

You counted about 23 people in total from what you could see, some talking together, some having a cigarette break, and so on. But as you look closer, you realise that all these seemingly random people dappled around were wearing communication earpieces. On some of the security guards you even noticed the outline of a handgun tucked into the back of their shirts. It seemed that the hospital was on high alert and extremely well-guarded. Everything was going to be just fine, just blend in and focus. You’ve got this. You murmur to yourself to ease your nerves, focusing on embodying the new persona you needed to become. Out of the corner of your eye you notice a strikingly familiar shiny blue chrome. You turn ever so slightly to see that Whiskey’s car was parked in the visitor’s area around the side of the hospital. I suppose Duke Silver has already arrived…

Heading inside you walk over to the information desk flashing your ID badge to the receptionist. “I’m the new student transfer here for my placement from the University of Texas, where am I heading?” You query, putting a quiver into your voice, you wanted to really sell the part of the first-time med student. The woman behind the desk gestures behind you. “Down the hall and to your left sweetheart…” Looking at you she smiles; she must see the nervousness you were portraying. “You’ll do just fine darlin, Doctor Violet will be mentoring you and she is just downright lovely. You’ve got nothing to be worried about.”

Continuing to fake your anxious energy, you tuck an invisible hair behind your ear activating your earpiece in one swift movement. Thanking the woman profusely you head in the direction she had gestured. The hospital was abuzz with activity all around you patients being moved, doctors and nurses chatting amongst each other, people waiting for their loved ones. It certainly looked and felt like a real hospital, an impressive cover, you thought to yourself. As you continue further down the hallway, the herd of people starting to thin, you realise you were moving towards the staff offices in the back. Looking around quickly to make sure you were out of earshot of anyone you speak quietly to yourself attempting to communicate with Whiskey on the other side of the hospital. “Hey Whiskey, my lines open, just holler if you run into any trouble.”

You hear a sharp crackle coming from your earpiece as Whiskey turns his earpiece on. “Likewise, Vodka,” he says, his voice unusually quiet, “I’m currently in the waiting room outside Howard’s office, there’s a few other wealthy looking gentlemen and women in here with me, who I assume will also be receiving a tour of the facilities… I’ll be right here if you need me, sunshine.” He purposely drew out his nickname he had for you, his voice dragging out every syllable. You could practically hear the smirk in his whispered tone.

Chuckling internally, you click your earpiece off so as not to distract your partner, or vice versa. You continued along towards Dr Violets office, turning around the corner and almost colliding into the other students gathered outside her door. There was about 4 of them in total, 5 including yourself. Shit, you need to be more careful. Anyone could have heard you. You look around to the others but they we’re all completely focused, eyes trained on the blue door which read “Dr. Octavia Violet M.D.”

Suddenly, the door swings open causing the other students to jump in surprise. Out from the office steps a prominent figure, a tall and dashing woman dressed in deep navy suit with a black button up underneath, a black tie wrapped around her neck. Brown hair wrapped into a low bun and round glasses resting on the bridge of her nose she exuded the air of highly intelligent and respected medical practitioner. Adjusting your lab coat and pushing your glasses up your nose, you continue to emulate a feeling of nervousness. This wasn’t too difficult a task as you already felt rather intimidated and yet oddly impressed by this woman. Her presence felt powerful, a quiet strength about her, shown in the way she carried herself.

“Hi there everyone, you all must be my new placement students,” She spoke, a kind smile plastered on her face. “I’m Dr Violet, I’ll be looking after you while you’re here with us over the next few weeks.” After all of you had introduced yourself separately, she began to lead you out towards the main part of the hospital, “It’s lovely to meet you all, now if you’d follow me its time I showed you around our facilities here at CleanPlanet so that you can become familiar with your new place of work.” Her black stilettos clicked as she walked, taking you past the reception desk and deeper into the hospital. Walking behind her with the other students in tow you noticed a small intricate scar poking out from underneath her jacket collar. You rest your index finger on your glasses attempting to use the tech to get a closer look. Managing to take a slightly zoomed in picture before she whips back around to address her small group of attentive pupils, you curse lightly under your breath and move further back.

You’d have to try to get a better look at whatever that was later, you couldn’t afford to draw any suspicion to yourself in such a small group. Dr Violet looks over her new students and begins to speak, “Alright so this first wing is the main hospital ward, we have different stations for certain requirements and specialists scattered around so we can accommodate a good number of inpatients here. Now further along…” Moving again the group walks further into the hospital into a more private area with sectioned off rooms and areas, “This is where we have our specialist medical, surgical and psychiatric wards. The main ward and these areas will be where you spend the majority of your time while on placement as the other side of the hospital is mainly outpatient facilities such as the A&E and the ICU.” She turned back to look at the group as she continued, “One of our main purposes here at CleanPlanet is to run test trials of experimental, but potentially lifesaving new procedures and medications,” You ears perk up at this statement, this might be what you needed to look further into.

The drug tests had seemed to be the source of the fatalities and illnesses that you had discovered in your research. “This is something we are very proud of and something you will be helping assist with. Trial subjects will need to be prepped for these new tests and made comfortable especially for certain surgeries and medications.”

You attempted to jot down some notes in a small note pad you had brought in your bag to appear as studious as some of her other pupils. You needed to keep a low profile. But on the inside your mind was reeling, what did she mean by making the patients comfortable and prepped for these trials and why would it be the student’s task to do this? If anything, it seemed that this would be a potential way to take the blame off CleanPlanet and its employees. If the students administered any medication to an unsuspecting patient, CleanPlanet would get away scot free, getting yet another unsuspecting party to do their dirty work.

As your mind processed this new information you realise that you had zoned Dr Violet out, “… we’ll be running you through what trials we’ll be running and what we’ll be getting you to do further along. Please follow me.” Walking further into these more secluded surgery and prep rooms you began to feel an unsettling ambience fill the space. The hallway had become starker, with fewer staff, the temperature had dropped to reflect the much colder and highly sanitised appearance of your new surroundings. The staff that were around had stern appearances and were adorned in different protective gear. Some wearing masks and protective goggles with some even wearing full hazmat suits. Dr Violet led you into one of the larger rooms off the main hallway and as you walked in provided each of you with a face mask of your own.

What on earth was going on here? You turn to look at Dr Violet once more, she was standing in front of a small group of staff who were sitting at multiple different desks with computer monitors in front of them. All of them were facing towards one wall in the room with what appeared to be a large, shadowed frame set into it. Each staff member was also wearing a facemask which covered their nose and mouth, jotting down notes and adjusting certain information on their screens.

It appeared to be a human x ray with different vital sign information down the side, as you peered further forward towards the screen closest to you to try and get a better look, your train of thought is suddenly interrupted by Dr Violets voice. “Alright students, we’re about to run you through a preparation and procedure of one of our focal trials here at CleanPlanet.” A mask now covering the bottom half of her face. She snapped her fingers and suddenly the frame on the wall behind her burst into vivid colour. You could see behind her a patient sitting on a small medical bed, a young male. Pale under the luminescent glow of the white medical lights, he looked almost translucent. You realised that the frame on the wall must be a one-way mirror allowing you a protected view into an adjacent medical suite.

A doctor stood over the boy, who couldn’t be more than your age, with a forced happy demeanour plastered across his face. You saw the doctors mouth moving but heard no sound to accompany it, the boy nodded in agreement and then signed a sheet of paper that the doctor held out for him on a clipboard. As the boy laid down onto the bed the doctor exited the room and you tapped your glasses frame lightly once more to begin to film what you were seeing, you had a feeling this was going to be important.

Dr Violet continued to speak as that same doctor entered the room you were standing in. “This is pivotal new research that we’ve been conducting to find a treatment for some of the big incurable diseases that plague the human race.” As she continued to speak you couldn’t bring yourself to turn in her direction, your eyes locked onto the room through that you could see through the frame. You began to notice the white cushioned padding covering the entirety of the walls within the room, and a large pit of concern began to open in your stomach. Why did it look like a cell in a mental institution in there…? “For this particular experiment we have been testing out an anaesthetic gas which aims to heighten the strong cells within the body to naturally fight off the illnesses and ailments which plague the patient.” Dr Violet explains to the students.

Suddenly you see a cloud of pale-yellow gas erupt from the ceiling above the patient. It starts to fill up the medical suite in front of your eyes as the young man squirms worriedly on the medical bed. The gas slowly engulfs the room, so thick that you can no longer see the patient. Everything is quiet for a few moments as everyone holds their breath in suspense. Suddenly the screens on front of the medical staff begin to flash in a warning red, the computers making load concerning beeps. All of a sudden you see the monitored heart rate on one of the screens plummet to zero and then shoot back up to over 200 beats per minute.

Dr Violet looks over at one of the screens with a concerned expression on her face. She leans closer to the window frame in front of her, trying to see further in when all at once there is load crack. A fist slams into the mirror with a huge amount of brute force only millimetres away from Dr Violets face. She recoils back out of shock from the sudden noise but quickly steadies herself, shaking off any worry in her now drawn expression. You continue to watch in horror as some of the gas begins to dissipate, revealing the maddened face of the patient through the mirrored frame. He was slamming himself repeatedly into the wall trying to break through the glass that separated us from him.

“Unfortunately…” The doctors voice cut through the shock that had paralysed your body, “Not every test is a success.” She trails off looking back at the boy behind the glass. His eyes were red and wild as he frantically ran around the room smacking into every possible surface, desperate to escape. He gripped the sides of his head with his hands, his face contorting in agony as an unheard scream ripped through him. He collapsed to the ground on his knees, his body shuddering in pain. You could see blood begin to drip down his cheeks out of his ears onto the floor, staining the stark white room with a deep and ominous red. Finally he collapses onto the floor, the life drained from his body, blood seeping and creating a halo around the crown of his head.

Dr V begins listing off some of the side effects of this new test such as migraines, nausea, everything up to internal bleeding. “This is a particularly exceptional case, a sharp learning curve for our testing. One of the many exciting trials and tribulations of scientific progress!” A smile lighting up her features, her whole-body tense with excitement. How could she be excited about what had happened here? You thought as your attempted to hide the pure shock and panic that was screaming out on the inside. All at once you see a few medical assistants in hazmat suits pull the lifeless body of the boy out of the suite in front of you. The room then floods with water from the sprinklers embedded in the ceiling, washing the blood down the small drain under the patient bed. “Bring in the next test subject.” Says one of the medical techs into a microphone.

No sooner had the room been cleared it had been filled again, a new patient being sat on the bed, a young woman, her face tired and worn. She had no idea what was about to happen. The view to the suite goes black once more, obscuring it from view and you and the rest of the students are hurriedly being ushered out of the room by Dr V. Everyone pulls their masks off as they leave, it seems everyone was a bit shaken from that experience. Still reeling from what you had just witnessed you keep your gaze fixed to the floor away from the prying eyes of the doctor. She continues walking and talking but you can no longer hear anything she says, your head is pounding. You need to get back there and get all the test information onto a hard drive for Statesman. You need to figure out how far this really goes. Looking up once more you raise your hand. Dr Violet looks directly at you, her gaze piercing you to your very core. “Yes?” She queries.

“May I be excused to go to the restroom Doctor?” You say, a slight quiver in your voice, this was certainly no act.

“Of course, there’s nothing wrong with having a slightly weak constitution.” Looking you up and down she waves her hand, gesturing for you to leave. “Go collect yourself. You can catch up with us further along.”

“Thank you Doctor.” Gripping tightly onto your notebook you dash back down away from the rest of the group as they continue along. You duck into the bathroom that you had passed earlier, quickly checking that there was no one else inside. Walking up to one of the sinks you look at your reflection in the mirror. Your complexion had paled from the shock of what you had witnessed, and your hands trembled as you gripped onto the ceramic of the basin fighting to keep yourself upright. Turning on the faucet you quickly splash some water across your face. You needed to get a grip and focus. You had a job you needed to do.

Tapping your earpiece, you open the communication line, exhaling softly to calm your nerves. “Whiskey, are you there?” Hearing another crackle, you hear his line open.

“I’m here Vodka, whaddya need sugar?” He says voice quiet, speaking only loud enough for you to hear.

“Ok well there have been some developments on my end, I’m about to head back into the lab we just left where my eyes were subjected to some pretty traumatic stuff…” You trail off recalling the horrific scene.

“What happened??” He queries, worry present in his tone of voice. You recount everything you had seen to him so he could get a full picture of what the hell was going on. “That sounds positively concerning…” Whiskey sighs audibly through the comm. “Well, I’m currently getting a wrap up of the facility tour from Howard so keep me on the line while you execute this and holler if you get into to any trouble.”

“Will do, Agent.” Quickly exiting the bathroom, you look down the hallway in the direction of your medical group, seeing no evidence of them and hearing nothing you begin to move in the opposite direction. Heading back towards the medical lab you quicken your pace, making use of the apparent emptiness of the hallway to reach your destination quicker.

“Jeez Vodka, you’re breathing so hard I think I’m going to go deaf in this ear.” Whiskey quips.

“Excuse me for thinking timing is of the essence in this situation cowboy.” You mutter to yourself angrily, as you reach the door to the medical lab you had visited earlier. Wary to keep your voice low, you didn’t know what was on the other side of that door. You hear Whiskey chuckle to himself, laughing at your constant irritation towards him. Ignoring him you turn the handle and hearing a soft click you push the door open.

Stepping inside the dark room you see two lab techs turn from their computers to face you. “I’m so sorry, I think I left something of mine in here earlier…” you glance around the room assessing your options. You need to get these two out of the way quickly so that you can access the information you need before anyone else comes back. Spotting a stapler on the desk closest to you amongst other scattered office supplies you quickly pick it up and open it. Looking back at the lab techs, you throw them a meagre smile.

“Sorry about this…” You mutter quietly, throwing the stapler into the air and in one swift movement you throw yourself into a cartwheel, flipping your leg forward, kicking the stapler directly in the middle, snapping it in half with the edge of your heel. The two ends of the stapler fly as you return to an upright stance, each side hitting the two lab techs square on their forehead, knocking them out cold. You smirk to yourself, proud of your efficient work.

“Everything under control Vodka?” You hear Whiskeys voice in your ear.

“Everything is under control.” You say as you dash over to the closest computer to you, rolling the lab tech who was slumped over in his own office chair out of the way. Pulling a hard drive out of your back pocket you quickly plug it into the port on the side of the computer screen. Tapping a few keys like Ginger taught you, the entire computer log begins to copy over to your hard drive. Files start to flick across the screen showing you all you ever needed to know about the trials they were running. Pictures of patients flit across the screen, hundreds of people with deceased written in bold red letters across their files. “My god…” you say, your voice catching as the number of files continue to rise.

“What’s going on there Vodka?” You hear a mutter in your ear.

“Whiskey I…” You trail off unable to comprehend how many people had been used and tossed aside for this drug trial. “I cannot believe how many patients they’ve gone through for this drug Jack…” You using his real name throws Whiskey for a loop. He knows how serious this must be if all the sarcasm and snipes had left your voice completely. You continue talking, trying to keep your nerves in check as the picture of the boy from earlier flashes onto the screen, the same words across his picture in red. “The drug they’re testing is an anaesthesia type gas which they’re calling Sunflower… It seems that in most of the cases it takes the patients about a week to experience the more intense symptoms and then eventually…” Trailing off again, your silence saying everything you couldn’t seem to articulate.

All of a sudden, the door to the lab opens and you see the frame of Dr Violet step inside. She quirks her eyebrow at you and glances at her two unconscious techs, down to the hard drive and then back up at you. You hear a small beep come from the computer notifying you that the upload had been completed. You quickly snatch the drive out of the computer as Dr V stared you down.

Looking at you with a knowing smile she puts her hand out towards you. “I think I’ll be taking that off your hands sweetheart.” She says with her hand outstretched.

“I don’t think so Violet.” You say as you quickly pocket the drive, bringing your hands to hover over the knives strapped to your thighs, bracing for a fight.

A crackle comes through your earpiece suddenly, “Vodka, is everything alright?”

You have no time to respond because all at once Dr V goes in for a jab directly into your stomach. Catching you off guard, you keel over in shock and from being suddenly winded, gripping your stomach. “That’s Doctor to you.” Dr V quips. Gasping, desperately trying to regain your breath you pull out one of your knives from your thigh holster and lunge at her, aiming a blow for her shoulder.

Expecting the blade to sink into soft flesh you put all your weight and strength behind your throw. The knife collides with her shoulder, but nothing happens. You hear the clang of metal clashing. Instead of sinking in, the blade slashes downwards, cutting through her lab coat and her suit revealing a metal covering underneath. The force that should have impacted the doctor reverberates back into your arm sending a jarring shock through your body. Quickly recovering you kick out directly at her left leg landing a heavy blow which forces her to recoil back.

Both catching your breath you stare the doctor down. “How could you possibly think what you’re doing here is ok?” You pant out getting ready for your next move.

“We’re trying to improve the world, make people stronger… but sometimes you have to crack a few bad eggs before you find the right one.” She says matter-of-factly, as she nurses her leg.

You both resume a fighting stance readying yourselves. “You’re hurting so many people just to achieve that goal, can’t you see that the harm outweighs any potential good you’re trying to accomplish?” You throw back at her, a venomous anger reaching your voice at her absolute callousness to the situation. You throw your other blade attempting to take her by surprise and incapacitate her, aiming for her already injured leg. The knife hits its mark with deadly accuracy, sinking into the flesh of her thigh. Dr Violet cries out in pain, sucking air through her teeth as she controls her reaction. She flicks her gaze away from the knife sticking out of her leg back at you, a new fury in her eyes.

“Sunshine are you handling the situation?” You hear Whiskeys tense voice in your ear.

Dr Violet runs at you throwing her non injured leg out kick you hard in the ribs. You grunt in pain, exhaling sharply. Without giving you a chance to recover she grabs you by the throat and clamps her fingers down, restricting any air flow into your lungs. She lifts you up with one arm by the neck keeping you from being able to breath. You grasp her hand with both your own, trying to tear her fingers away from your throat, trying to let any amount of air reach your lungs. She holds you there like you weigh almost nothing, looking you up and down. You thrash out with your legs trying to somehow escape from her grasp as black spots start to cloud your vision.

“Sweetheart?!” You hear Whiskey in your ear once more, his voice riddled with concern. Trying to choke out a response to your partner as your voice cracks, “P-Please…” is all you can muster. You feel yourself start to slip out of consciousness in the doctor’s vice like grip. You hear her calm voice as your body movements start to slow and weaken, “I think you will make a fine new test subject for our trial.” She says with a large smirk gloating at you, her new prize.

All you hear as you finally succumb to unconsciousness is Whiskey yelling your name through the com as your body collides with the floor…

*******************************************************************************************

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friendofhayley · 4 years ago

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I’m back after my hiatus from fanfiction, to give y’all the best multifandom recs of the fics I read this month. Shoutout to all content creators who helped us live to see the close of this year. This fic includes 15 fics for Sterek, Larry, Winteriron, and Geraskier. The starred ones put me through heaven and hell *chef’s kiss*.

Sterek (Teen Wolf)

1. Six Letter Word for Romance by @troubleiwant | domestic kink - omg there’s only one bed - soft Derek - oblivious idiots in love - 6k

Stiles definitely starts off thinking it’s fucking hilarious that Derek-sourwolf-Hale does crosswords and cares about scuffs on his furniture.

But at a certain point, and he can’t pinpoint exactly when, “fully functional adult couple” somehow becomes a massive fetish of his. Derek in sweats and bare feet, nudging his glasses up his nose while he does the Sunday crossword? Unff. Derek filling out forms to get some renovations on his property approved? Oh God, yes. Derek putting away groceries and bitching that the corner store was out of the right type of Greek yogurt? Take me now, Stiles thinks, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth.

This can’t be normal.

2. *Dirty Little Secret* by @isthatbloodonhisshirt | Cora & Stiles bffs - no one can resist the Stilinski charm - celebrity Derek - human au - 91k

“Holy shit, this is a date!” he blurted out, turning back to Derek wide-eyed. “This is a date! You intended for this to be a date, this was supposed to be a date!” He figured if he said it enough times, maybe he would believe it, but so far, no dice.

Derek was scowling again—seriously, did he want wrinkles?—but he just reached into one of the bags and pulled out a burger, checking what was written on the foil in sharpie before handing it over to Stiles.

“Of course it’s a date, what did you think this was?”

3. Can You Feel A Whole New Part of Your World? by @isthatbloodonhisshirt | i genuinely don’t look at authors names i just click i am sorry for spamming you but you write too good - neighbors Sterek - emotionally mature Stiles - the ideal fluffy world you’d want to live in - 53k

Can you hear me singing in the shower?” Stiles blurted out, because he had to know, now. If one of his neighbours had slid that note under his door, then it meant Parrish as another neighbour could hear him, too! He had to know if this was all a huge joke and one person had walked by and overheard him and decided to fuck with him.

Parrish gave him a weird look at the question, but answered anyway, making Stiles’ plans to leave the country speed up in his mind.

“Of course I can. You’re actually not bad. Though you have been singing a lot of Frozen lately, getting kind of tired of the soundtrack.”

4. Theory of Overprotective Canines by @petals42 | derek can turn into wolf - oblivious Stiles - future fic - mutual pining - 11k

Stiles is totally looking forward to living alone in his super cool apartment off-campus. He is. He is also very excited to bike to school every day, ready to set up an awesome game room, and definitely over his crush on Derek Hale. Completely over it.

Or at least he is until Derek decides he's moving in with him. And then turns out to be the perfect roommate. And then starts attending all his classes. As a wolf.

This is not going according to plan.

Larry (One Direction)

5. **The Changer and the Changed** by @homosociallyyours | literally the best fic of all time i want to live in there - girl direction - NYC ‘70s au - trans Zayn - the girls are so lovely - 59k

It’s the spring of 1977 and Harry Styles has just moved to New York City after graduating college. She knows she’s a lesbian. She just needs to figure out how to meet other lesbians.

Louis Tomlinson works at a popular women’s bookstore in the Lower East Side, Womon’s Direction, where she spends her days reading feminist literature, writing poetry, exchanging friendly barbs with her boss Niall, and dreaming of finding someone to love.

When Harry and Louis meet, their connection is instantaneous. Slowly but surely, Louis welcomes Harry into her community of women. Stonewall veteran and old school butch Niall; Liam, a land dyke who’s moved to the city for love; and Zayn, a lesbian musician who’s been ostracized by a vocal part of women’s community for being trans, welcome Harry with open arms, ready to help her find her place in New York City’s bustling lesbian scene.

6. others i’ve seen might never be mean (but they would never do) by @cherrylouvol6 | aaaaaaaa it’s lesbian When Harry Met Sally !!! - rom com - girl direction - coming out and first times - really great sex - 20k

Louis sighs.

“Do you remember what I said to you the first time we met?”

“That I’m naive and neurotic and would be hard pressed to ever find someone who could put up with me?” Harry snaps.

7. some things fade (some never do) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed | aaaaaa this story took me apart and back together again just like Louis and Harry - urban fantasy au - second chances - exes to friends to lovers - hurt/comfort - 25k

Matching tattoos. He’d never thought he’d be the type for tattoos to begin with, let alone matching or magical ones, but once Harry had put the idea in his mind it had never quite managed to disappear. And it had made sense. With their relationship a long distance one, this was simply another way of feeling close to one another. Of knowing where the other was, how they felt. It had made so much sense.

Back then.

8. we can take the long way home by @eleadore | i usually don’t rec my porn but there’s so much feels in this one - canon-divergent - kink discovery - friends to lovers - this was written in 2015 as a future fic but it felt like it was taking place now so good job - 27k

“Fertile,” Louis says, and then laughs because it sounds stupid to say out loud. He hasn’t ever really thought of himself in those terms. Baby-making terms. It’s just one of those things his body can do, like exercise, or go without tea. Doesn’t mean he will.

Winteriron (MCU)

9. **Dig No Graves** by @missaphelion | Tony finds out about his parents right after winter soldier au - Tony Stark has a heart - Bucky heals with bots and lots of sugar - slow burn - 142k

"I'm here to kill you, Terminator," Tony said slowly, "does that compute?"

The soldier looked up at him with wide blue eyes and no expression. "Okay."

Tony froze. "Okay," he echoed. "I tell you I came here to kill you and your response is 'okay'?"

10. A Rifling Matter by Penndragon27 | Winter Soldier has such a big crush on Tony’s weapons, he escapes Hydra au - identity porn - pining Bucky - fluff and angst - Winter Soldier is a fanboy and it’s cute - 37k

All the Asset knows is fighting, killing.

He also knows a good weapon when he sees one and Stark Industries... they make some great weapons.

11. *Winter is Coming (aka Fifty First Avengers Dates)* by @tisfan & @everyworldneedslove | enemies to friends to lovers to 50 first dates - pining Bucky - Tony gets amnesia - no Steve bashing but he’s a little bit of an ass - mental health issues - 109k

Bucky Barnes is still mostly The Asset, and he's pretty sure Hydra is going to come back for him soon, so in the meantime he's just going to keep an eye on the Avengers for them. But then Clint spotted him hiding in the shadows, so Tony came out and dragged Bucky back to the Tower, threw him in the shower, and fed him cheeseburgers.

Now The Asset is having anomalous feelings. In his pants.

Geraskier (The Witcher)

12. *no reason to run* by @yoursummerfrost | different meeting au - only one bed but camping - cursed Jaskier - soft Geralt!!!! - poly negotiations - 61k

"You'll change your mind one day," says the innkeep. "The road can't love you back."

What a strange way to flatten something so beautiful, Jaskier thinks. What a small way to love.

13. *He Fell into a Faerie Ring* by @geraltnoises | Jaskier gets bardnapped after the fight au - non-human Jaskier - soft Geralt - Jaskier encourages people to be kind and becomes a god - emotionally mature Geralt - 57k

Traders are a gossiping sort. If there was a scandal within the noble houses of Posada, you’d hear about it in Cretegor by the end of the week. So, the quick spread of a rumor about a little village in the Kestrel Mountain range was not at all surprising. What was surprising was the story that the traders wove. They said that Luibhtorrach, a sad, ghost of a farming town, had miraculously become a hub for trade, as if overnight. Their lands unbelievably fertile and brimming with crop. Even stranger, each and every one of Luibhtorrach’s people professed that their good fortune was the work of a mysterious beast they’d claimed as their personal deity. Most recent news foretold of their plans to throw a midsummer festival celebrating this newfound god. In preparation, silken blue banners were erected in every corner of the town, each bearing the symbol of their new patron: A delicate dandelion wrapping around a golden sun.

14. Barking Up the Wrong Tree by KHansen | 5+1 things - I’m worried about Geralt’s skills - non-human Jaskier - monsterfucker Geralt - crack treated seriously - 11k

Geralt is 100% certain that Jaskier is a vampire.

He's 100% proven wrong.

15. Bardic Idyll by Lisztful | fake relationship - Geralt is soft and oblivious - pining - fluff and angst - Jaskier you can’t show your emotions mainly through song! - 13k

Jaskier is certain he can win the Continent's annual bardic competition, but he needs to be accompanied by a dashing romantic companion in order to enter. Enter Geralt, who is definitely, for sure, only interested in the free food, and not at all in staring lovingly into Jaskier's eyes.

#monthly fic rec #fic rec #sterek fic rec #larry fic rec #winteriron #geraskier #larrie hijinks #witcher #mcu

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truth-and-lies-drv3-imagines · 4 years ago

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DrV3 boys, with an S/O who appears to be tough and strong, but at times they have flashbacks to their childhood and when it happens, they lock themselves in their room for days at a time only leaving when they need to

Mod Nagito here~! It’s been ages, huh? Sorry about that. I started this one a while ago and never got to finish it, so I did the other 5 boys today and now it’s pretty much done. I forgot that imagines can be pretty fun to write, haha. It’s much more low-pressure than any of what I’ve been writing recently.

I’ll be honest, these turned out a little more like headcanons than imagines, but I hope you still enjoy them! They also turned out to be more focused on how the boys took care of their S/O and less about the S/O’s trauma/past troubles. I wanted to make sure they didn’t vary too much in length, but they got longer and longer, so…oh, well? Here you go!Edit: I kept trying to put a keep reading, but it won’t show up :( Sorry.

Shuichi Saihara

- He’s usually the one getting encouraged by you and tends to depend on you for support. But when you disappear suddenly for the first time and don’t respond to any message or calls for a few days, he’s incredibly worried.

- When he comes to your house, of course, you don’t respond to any doorbell ringing or knocks, so he digs under your doormat and pulls out a key to enter the house. He’ll run through the house and, seeing that common area is relatively empty, dash to your bedroom and knock before entering.

- You’re too zoned out to have heard him coming in and am curled up in your bed and blankets, eyes wide open and slightly damp. When he sees you, he’ll rush to your side and put a hand on your arm gently. “S/O, what’s going on? You haven’t been responding to anyone’s messages or picking up any calls.”

- You try to deny it at first, trying to keep up that strong front. But when it’s obvious that you can’t hide it from him, especially taking into account his perceptive nature, you tell him. You don’t exactly have a picture-perfect childhood, and it’s hard thinking back on it–you never want to, but it happens anyway.

- He’ll nod and reassure you that he’s not mad or anything, that having these flashbacks does not make you weak, and ask you to please rely on him as he does with you or at least tell him what’s going on because he gets worried.

- He’ll lie in the bed with you and talk to you if you want, or if you’d like silence, give you cuddles or just stay there with you without a peep out of him. Shuichi’s a great listener if you’d like to rant to him, scream, cry, whatever you need to feel normal again after this episode of flashbacks. Heck, he’d even be your punching bag even though you’d never actually use him that way.

- Next time you have a round of flashbacks, call him up or text him, and he’ll be at your side in a jiffy. He’ll also go out and buy you anything you need so you don’t have to leave the house–although he thinks some fresh air would be good for you, he realizes the world can be overwhelming when you’re in a vulnerable state.

Kaito Momota

- He really admires how you journey on and push past hardships! But he’s a very discerning person; he sees you have your troubles behind the front that you put up, too.

- When you disappear, he might panic at first, but if he can calm down he’ll be able to assess the situation and remember that you’ve got off moments too. He’ll go looking for you at your home, for sure.

- He’ll pound on the door, and when you don’t answer, he’ll try the door handle, realize it’s unlocked, and enter quickly, closing the door behind him and running through the house to your room, where he’ll probably make a dramatic appearance by bursting in the door.

- He’ll probably have the urge to give you a good talking to, but seeing that you’re in such a vulnerable state, he’ll save it for later. You’ll probably be asleep when he comes in, and only be woken by him sitting down on the side of your mattress slowly, carefully.

- He doesn’t exactly want to wake you up, but he doesn’t think it’s a good idea to sleep the day away either. He knows from experience that too much sleep can cause headaches. He might pet your head or rub your back comfortingly as you’re roused from your sleep.

- If you want to talk about things, Kaito is surprisingly good at asking you important questions that force you to reflect and see more clearly. Otherwise, he’ll keep his big mouth shut and just keep your company. He might sit in your bed and pull you into his lap. He’s basically a human heater and an extra-firm pillow.

- He makes sure you know that he’s always here for you and encourages you to contact him, talk to him, depend on him. Having another person on your side is always helpful.

Gonta Gokuhara

- He panics and assumes the worst when you disappear and don’t contact him for some time. He’ll run to your house and search for you, all kinds of worst-case scenarios running through his mind. He’s worried to death about his brave s/o! And knowing his strength, it’s more than likely that he could break down a door or a few walls to get to you and make sure you’re safe and sound.

- When he realizes that you’ve shut yourself in on purpose, he feels slightly discouraged. Is he that unreliable, that you’d rather isolate yourself rather than lean on him? But after you explain to him that, in fact, it’s just your habit of how you deal with your pain, he’ll tear up and give you a big bear hug.

- (And he gives the best bear hugs, in case you haven’t realized.)

- He just wants to be the most helpful gentleman possible and support you in any way possible while you’re going through tough times! Just knowing he has your back is a source of comfort to you. He can handle lots, even If he’s often looked down upon for his childish disposition.

- Gonta’s also surprisingly good at taking care of you! He reminds you to eat, drink, sleep (but not too much), get some sun if possible, and take any meds you need. He’s a gentle and positive force in your life, especially when you’re suffering.

- Even though he may come off as oblivious at times, he’s finely attuned and sensitive to your feelings. He worries about your well-being and what he can do to be a better gentleman for you, even if you say that his normal self is enough for you. Thus, communication with him is rather easy at times since he easily understands your current state of being.

Ryoma Hoshi

- Ryoma’s the type of person to have a strong intuition and often sees right through you, with all that he’s been through. So when you disappear, he’s not all that surprised, but he is worried. However, he’s not the kind of person to rush into situations, and while he may worry about you, he trusts that you’ll hold yourself together enough–at least, until he can get in touch with you.

- He knows it’s tough for you to take care of yourself when you get into this state of darkness and vulnerability, so much so that you needed to close yourself completely off to hide that weakness. He reads you well, almost too well, and he’ll leave little (or not-so-little) care packages at the door to your house/apartment, complete with little notes of encouragement and support.

- You’ll open the door to find the care package sitting there wrapped up nice and neatly, and he somehow always has the best timing, so food never spoils. He comes and goes like a cat, but it’s like he predicts your every move. When you ask him about it, he just shrugs and tells you it comes with being an athlete–he can predict your movements just like he can predict the trajectory of the ball.

- (You’re not sure you really believe him, but you accept his help gratefully.)

- Although he’s careful not to push you when you’re in a tough spot, he does sometimes pop up outside your door just before you decide to head out to get some essentials or such. He times it just right, and you often ask him if he’d been waiting long, but he brushes off your concern and shakes his head. He’ll offer you a hand and talk you on a little walk for some fresh air and company.

- If you ask for it, he’ll pat you on the head and give you hugs. He’s not the kind of person to offer much physical contact in general, but for you, he’ll do so just about anytime. The fondness he has for you only grows when you have the courage to ask him for what you’d like from him because even though he’s intuitive, he has his doubts sometimes, too.

- If you’re anxious and ask him if you’re being a bother or other such untrue things, he’ll assure you and offer you verbal affirmations that you are not too much and have not been too much. He’s glad that he can support you during hard times. You’ve been a source of light and support for him, so he’s happy he can give back to you.

- Ryoma’s not the most expressive or mushy guy out there, but for the people he loves, he does his best to be there for them however he can. He counts himself lucky to have you, just like you can count yourself lucky to have him, and so it’s a given that he’ll always do his best to treat you right.

Kiibo

- Kiibo’s absolutely bewildered at first when you lock yourself in and show no signs of coming out, save for essentials like food and toiletries. But he’s a good robot and studies up on human behavior, so he quickly and easily deduces that you’re having a hard time and have partly shut down to conserve the remaining energy you have.

- Thus, he’ll first take the logical approach, which is to make sure you have everything you need and could possibly want. He’ll help you with getting groceries (although he won’t go in your stead, since he’ll insist that you need a modicum of natural sunlight and fresh air), and he come over as much as possible to help around your place, cleaning and taking care of chores.

- When he’s satisfied with the standard of your living situation, he’ll focus more of his efforts on comforting you and helping you in other ways. He’s not exactly the most sturdy robot–in fact, far from it–but the current you isn’t much tougher, so he’ll offer his shoulder to lean on and many kind, loving words.

- Being who he is, Kiibo will tend to probe you for answers and confirmation. He gets nervous that he’s not doing the right thing or that he’s not doing things right, so he has to be sure that what he’s doing is constructive for you. And while subtle enough, delicacy still isn’t his strong suit, so he’ll ask you questions about what you’re going through and thinking.

- If you confide in him, he can offer a safe space for you to reflect in, and it can be healing for you to talk to him about your troubles, past and present. He’s careful not to judge or advise you unless you explicitly ask for his advice. And if you ask, his advice will mostly consist of telling you to live healthily and safely, and to pursue the things that you enjoy and love.

- Although Kiibo is perfectly fine with staying inside with you since his suit isn’t exactly the most weather-resistant, he will still be adamant about getting you to go places now and then. He believes a change of scenery can help you with a change in mood, even if it’s extremely nuanced. If you’re able, he might help guide you in doing some simple exercises or movements that can give you a little more dopamine from moving your body.

- He’ll be by your side even if you push him away. He gives you space when he senses you need it or when you communicate it very clearly, but otherwise, he doesn’t like to leave you out of his sight because he’s very concerned for your well-being. He cares too deeply about you to just leave you alone. He’s a versatile robot and will perform to his utmost ability in helping you take care of yourself, along with caring for you when you are unable to do so.

Korekiyo Shinguji

- As an anthropologist, he’s studied human behavior and quite a bit of psychology and sociology since the disciplines intersect frequently. So noticing you withdraw and shut yourself off from the rest of the world is natural to him, although it’s a phenomenon that feels unpleasant because he cares for you.

- He tends to focus on the emotional side of things. As long as you’re drained and in need of something to fill you back up, he’ll offer you all kinds of possibilities and items that can help you feel a better, even if just a little. He has tons of ideas and knowledge, so there’s bound to be something that will help.

- He loves listening to you talk, and he’ll engage in conversation with you about anything and everything, from the past that’s keeping you stuck in your room to light-hearted topics like what you’d do with a million dollars and a thousand-acre plot of land. If you need processing, he’ll process with you, and if you need to be distracted, he has a plethora of distractions.

- Korekiyo probably also has collected a bountiful amount of gadgets and artifacts that can pique your interest. Among them will be fidget toys, games, and lucky charms. He’ll probably bring over a big box of stuff that you can look through and let you borrow some things to use (or give them to you, if he thinks he’s studied them enough).

- He’s also very good at taking care of people, although he rarely has the chance to show off this side of him, being isolated from most people and having deep relationships with few. He’ll cook delicious, nutritious meals for you and help you tidy up.

- As long as you’re okay with it, he’ll give you hugs and kisses and backrubs. He’ll lie down beside you in your bed so you can get a good night’s rest, and the next day, you’ll wake up in his arms, safe and warm. If you manage to catch him off-guard (although this is very difficult to do), you might even see him watching you in the morning as he holds you gently, just as he does normally before you wake up.

- In short, he’s like a domestic partner that helps you fulfill your emotional needs and restores your physical health with good food. If you request his help on something, he’ll help you without fail; there’s little he can’t do, especially for you, who he loves. Even just his presence is comforting.

Kokichi Ouma

- Kokichi is extremely sharp, so he catches just about any of your shifts in mood. He’s aware the moment your mind begins to enter another space, even more because your attention will wander from him, which makes it even more obvious. That’s why he might even be the one to suggest you take a break, or in other cases, ask you to try not to cut yourself off from everything.

- When you do lock yourself in your room, he’s keen not to leave you alone–at least, not for too long, because he knows what it’s like to be left in the darkness with no friendly presence at his side. If he has to, he’ll be obnoxious and in your face about it and do anything to get you to let him in. If you think you’ve seen the limits of what he can do, you thought wrong. Kokichi Ouma has no limits to his mischief and, in this case, arsenal to tools to compel you to comply with his demands, which is what he believes is best for you.

- Though he’s nimble and composed, he can be somewhat clumsy when it comes to caring for other people. Household duties like cleaning and cooking don’t come easily to him, although he picks up skills pretty easily and always has. But it does mean that at first, you’ll be eating burnt porridge (if you let him do the cooking, that is).

- Sometimes his clumsiness brings a little more work, but his presence more than returns in spades the benefits and comfort of having him around. He’s soft and obliging when you’re in a tough spot. In his mind, he’s probably agreed to give you a break on his tricks and other more high-risk, high-adrenaline activities.

- He’s happy to pet your head and hold your hands, offering as much physical affection as you’re comfortable with. He’s thin and small, but he’ll even playfully offer you a lap-pillow and patiently let you do as you like. He’s just as happy to let you do the touching and thoroughly enjoys your attention, even if he’s worried about you.

- In some ways, his methods of caring for you are like that of a child’s or otherwise chaotic. He’ll offer you messily crafted construction paper cards with heart cut-outs and scribbled drawings in marker. It’s touching, and even if he doesn’t expect you to take the cards seriously, he’ll be happy if you like it.

- He will bug you about going out on occasion. He’ll probably throw a fit and make it look like he’s just being selfish and wanting to go somewhere for fun, but really, he’s trying to get you to go somewhere he thinks might lift your spirits or give you a change of pace. After all, if he pesters you about going to a museum, he probably isn’t wanting to go there because he’s so interested in its exhibits.

- Kokichi is always thinking of you. He likes to go out now and then and come back with little gifts and souvenirs, some more unconventional than others, like a shiny rock or a penny that he found heads-up on the sidewalk. When your eyes light up or you offer a small smile, he feels relieved and is assured that he did the right thing leaving you alone for a bit so he could you bring something cool.

- Overall, he’s not the most competent caretaker in terms of acts of service, and he hardly earns any points for being smooth about it, but his love for you is overwhelmingly strong and supports you in the way only he can. His intentions come from the heart, and he showers you with affection as much as possible–it’s what he’s best at, after all–and your hard days will pass by quickly with him around.

Rantaro Amami

- Rantaro has had plenty of practice taking care of people, especially with all his time caring for his many younger sisters. That’s why it comes easily to him when he comes and finds you with his backpack of supplies, which has all kinds of items from when he took care of his sisters. You joke that it’s like Doraemon’s magical pocket, which produces any number of magical and useful items.

- He’ll pull out supplies for making your favorite foods, which will offer great comfort to you when you’re in a difficult position. If you dig through his backpack, you’ll also find adorable and soft plushies, watercolor paints, a notebook, an mp3 player, and much more. He tells you you’re welcome to use whatever you’d like.

- He’s gentle and not at all pushy. He take care of the chores and helps you with other tasks as needed with great patience. When you ask him how he can be so patient with you, he laughs and tells you it’s nothing compared to his sisters.

- Now and then, he’ll suggest that the two of you take a little walk or venture out to somewhere pretty to see a sunset or such. If you’re okay with it, he’ll bring you out and walk while holding your hand, squeezing it slightly now and then. It’s a reminder of the warmth that lies in himself, and the warmth that lies in yourself, telling you that you’re here with him.

- He’ll sometimes ask you if you want to talk about what’s keeping you in this darkness, and he encourages you whenever you’re doubtful or unsure. He’s a safe space for you, and always will be. But he’ll never demand answers. He also has a few things he’d rather keep to himself, after all.

- He tends to treat you like his younger sisters, being the older brother that he is. He’ll comb your hair, put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, and give you short, tender hugs.

- He likes to make little crafts like thread bracelets or pouches of fragrances, and he’ll gift them to you when he’s done. They’re little charms that will be a source of strength and remind you of his love, and when he’s not around, they’re a good replacement. Sometimes he even makes flower crowns or flower rings that he’ll reverently place on you and then proceed to tell you that you look absolutely magical.

- Rantaro takes a very laidback and gentle approach to taking care of you and confronting you about what you’re feeling and doing. His kindness is like liquid warmth that embraces you whenever you’re feeling cold or down, and you’ll never feel lonely with him by your side.

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dex-xe · 4 years ago

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fluff no.50 with the captain and havers??

Captain & Havers Fluff #50: “Stay.”

(I’m super, super, super happy with this one,, v proud fellas!! This is based on my own experiences btw and how shutdowns affect me specifically so I am in now way claiming this to be representative of the whole community but if people have problems with this let me know and I’ll take it down cause even though its personal to me, I don’t want others to feel disrespected. Anyway, again this went up on ao3 like two days ago I think?? so yeh go check out stuff on there too!! Enjoy!!) (even though this one is mad long XD)

Prompt list

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Vision blurred by the night and mind foggy with tiredness, the Captain finally reached the gates of Button House. He hitched his khaki bag up higher on his shoulder and blinked up at the dark windows of the manor house, safe in the knowledge that his soldiers were fast asleep and unable to disturb him further. The driving rain stuck his silver hair to his forehead and made his uniform cling to his skin in a suffocating hold, not exactly helping his vulnerable situation.

He’d spent a week in London with other COs from across the region, sitting through meeting after meeting with a masked expression plastered across his face. His energy had not been focussed on the week’s work but instead on trying to appear calm and normal in front of his superiors. He’d kept it up, much to his own surprise, he’d left the mask in place for a full week; never dropping the facade, never letting the reality of his anxiety-ridden demeanour slip out.

As he ran through the rain to the front door, he couldn’t help but feel some pride in keeping up appearances but the mental energy he had lost over the week was seriously taking it’s toll. The house span in front of him blurring into a swirl of dark colours, he couldn’t think of anything but the intense desire to climb into bed and block out the world for a little while: just a few hours where he could be quiet and still and shut off the lights and sounds, where he didn’t have to speak to a single other soul.

Gripping his bag tightly over his shoulder, the Captain pushed open the heavy wooden door and stumbled into the hallway. Water droplets fell from his hair as he ran a hand through it, wiping his feet on the mat and quietly pushing the door shut behind, being careful not to wake the men.

“You’re back late.”

The Captain jumped a mile as a whisper emanated from the dark house. He started up to see Lieutenant Havers leaning in the hall doorway. The Captain’s breath caught in his throat as he saw Havers in a way he had never seen before: hair mussed up slightly and falling across his forehead, soft white nightshirt flowing over his standard issue army slacks.

“Captain?” Havers ducked his head slightly to meet the Captain’s eye line where it had been fixated on his chest. “Here, dry yourself off.”

Havers held out a towel for the Captain, who took it graciously and began to brush water from his hair. The Captain noticed his hands were shaking a little as he reached out to Havers and worked to try and steady them to maintain his facade.

“You are rather late, sir. We were expecting you back late afternoon; it’s well past midnight?” Havers queried.

“Train,” the Captain said simply, his voice cracked as he reluctantly spoke for the first time in hours.

“Ah, blasted things. Just can’t rely on them,” Havers smiled. “How was your? Did you hear from Colonel Andrews about their progress? Surely they must be close to finishing Operation Coventry by now?”

“Mmhm,” the Captain coughed. “Yes I should think so, Lieutenant. There shall be a full briefing in the morning.”

“Are you feeling quite well, sir?” Havers asked, noting the Captain’s pale complexion, fast, heavy blinking, and fidgeting hands wringing the towel between his fingers.

“Perfectly adequate, thank you Lieutenant,” he stuttered. “Now, if you don’t mind, I wish to shower and turn in for the night.”

The Captain turned to stumble up the stairs after Havers nodded curtly, barely taking in the concern plastered across his lieutenant’s features.

***

The Captain showered quickly before pulling on the nightclothes from his bag and taking up a swift jog to reach his private bedroom without running into any night owls still wandering lonely through the corridors. He slowly and quietly shut the bedroom door, sighing heavily and resting his forehead against the wood. He twisted the key and listened to the satisfying clunk of the lock barring the rest of the world from entering his life for just a few hours.

“Feeling better, sir?”

The Captain jumped at Havers’ voice once again. He spun on his toes to see Havers stoking a fire he had clearly put great effort into lighting.

“Good lord, man!” the Captain started, agitation beginning to rise through his chest. “Must you insist on sneaking up on me?”

“I don’t mean to, sir!” Havers was crouched beside the fire, his gentle smile illuminated by the flames. “There’s cocoa on the side by your bed, and a hot water bottle between the sheets for you. Try to warm you up after your dash through the rain, yes?”

The Captain dropped his bag from his shaking grip and sat on the edge of the bed. The hot cocoa warmed his hands, taking away some of the pain of having to continue the charade of acceptability he had suffered through during the week.

“Our briefing will be at 10:00 hours rather than 8, give you a little time to sleep in,” Havers reasoned. “I’ll keep the men quiet and occupied until then, I’m sure.”

“Quite unnecessary, Lieutenant, 10:00 hours is fine,” the Captain said. With every answer he provided for Havers, the words came out more painfully, more stilted. He could feel the anxiety rising through his chest, his brain coding over with the familiar fog he associated with an incoming ‘episode’ - as he always called them.

He’d suffered from his so-called ‘episodes’ since he was a young child and could easily recognise the warning signs: the creeping nauseous feeling of anxiety and tears, the slowing of his thoughts right down to a trickle, the restless desire to rock himself into a calmer state. He’d always snuck himself off alone, ever since he was young, never wanting those around him to catch on to his discomfort - peers, teachers, even his parents couldn’t see the true nature of his situation.

“Captain?” Havers had shifted away from the fire to stand in front of the Captain to look down at him. “Are you quite sure you’re alright? You’re looking a little peaky.”

The Captain nodded avoiding Havers’ worried gaze entirely. He gripped the sleeves of his nightshirt trying desperately not to embarrass himself with any uncontrollable movements that might inhibit him. His eyes were slammed shut to block out the iridescent glow of the lightbulb but the high pitched humming it produced was still permeating into his brain like sharp rods.

“Sir, you’re really beginning to scare me,” Havers said trying his hardest to stay calm. “Can you talk to me? What can I do? You can’t be well.”

The Captain shook his head being careful not to jostle his tender condition.

“Pen and paper!” Havers scrambled across to the Captain’s small wooden desk to grab supplies before thrusting a pencil into his hand and laying a notebook across his lap. The Captain’s hand faltered as he covered his ears, but then he put pencil to paper and wrote in scratchy, cursive lettering: “Light.”

“Would you like the light off?” Havers barely registered the Captain’s jerky nod before he made a heroic leap across the room to plunge the pair into darkness; the only light in the small bedroom was from the orangey glow of the fire Havers had meticulously built. The Captain was able to peel his eyes open to look at Havers who had taken up a kneeling position in front of him.

“Is that better for you?” The Captain nodded again gripping the pencil tight between his hands, knuckles turning white under the pressure. “What’s going on? You’re hiding, sir. Do not hide any pain you are feeling, I cannot help you if you are hiding.”

The Captain put pen to paper once again: “Too much.”

“Do not hide,” Havers said, watching as the Captain grimaced. “That’s actually an order, sir.”

The Captain finally gave in and allowed his ‘episode’ to take over. His hand balled into a fist and shook violently beside head and he tried to curl in closer to himself. A low groaning noise was what disturbed Havers the most as he knelt before the Captain, reaching to rest his hands on the other man’s knees, fingertips burning through the Captain’s trousers and straight into his pale skin.

“You’re going to be fine,” Havers murmured quietly. He moved with the Captain as he rocked slowly back and forth, trying to ease out the tension. “I’m not going anywhere until you’re okay, so just let it all out.”

The Captain snatched at the pencil and wrote in his wobbly script: “Here.”

“Here?” Havers queried. “What do you mean? A little more detail.” He watched the paper intently as the Captain scratched over it once more: “Come here.”

Havers scrambled up and threw himself down on the bed beside the Captain watching him closely.

“What do you need? Should I take hold of you, sir? Is that what you want?” Havers stammered. A sharp nod from the Captain. “Come here.” Havers curled his strong arms around the the Captain’s waist and pulled him tightly towards him, having long since noted the Captain’s dislike for soft touch. The Captain rested his disturbingly warm forehead against Havers’ shoulder and allowed himself to accept the comfort he had so desperately needed. With his eyes screwed shut and face buried deep into Havers’ warmth, the Captain took a few shuddering breaths and felt the anxiety flow through his body and straight out of every point of contact he shared with Havers, as if the man was reaching in and drawing it all out from deep inside him.

“Was it this week?” Havers asked. “Was it too much? I can’t quite imagine how difficult it all must have been but you’re back now, back here where everything is exactly the way it should be, yes? Nothing out of place, just us and the men and our work. That’s better for you, isn’t it?” The Captain had never quite experienced understanding like Havers’. He’d long understood that Havers knew more about him than anyone else ever had but to have picked up on the Captain’s vulnerabilities so deftly and be able to work him through them unlike anyone else: that took something different - a different level of relationship the Captain couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“You should sleep,” Havers mumbled, his warm breath tickling behind the Captain’s ear. Havers began to manoeuvre away, pulling the Captain with him slightly to manhandle the bedsheets around his shoulders. “Come on, it is rather late.”

The Captain allowed himself to be pushed down onto the soft material, combined with the vacant feeling in his head and the warmth of the hot water bottle he’d laid to rest on his chest, he could almost feel himself floating away. Havers tempered the fire before diligently returning to the Captain’s side.

“Are you warm enough, sir? Do you need more blankets? Something to drink?” Havers fussed, rearranging pillows and smoothing down the sheets. The Captain shook his head but reached for his paper and pencil anyway, hoping to catch Havers attention once more before he disappeared back to this own quarters down the hall, leaving the Captain in the silence he had been craving only an hour, silence that didn’t seem so tempting now.

He wrote, more clear and cohesively this time: “Stay.”

“With you?” Havers stammered out. But late at night and in a vulnerable state, neither cared for the implications of the Captain’s request - even the uptight and overly cautious CO found himself lazily pulling back the covers for Havers to slip in.

Reaching out into the darkness, Havers pulled the Captain close again, close enough to be practically laying on top of him, long limbs dangling over him like a dog that had grown slightly too large for its owner. He settled them both back into the pillows and ran a loose hand down the back of the Captain’s shirt, smoothing over the material and allowing his hands to linger on the small of his back. Finally letting his eyes fall into comfortable rest rather than the squeezed-shut tension they had been before, the Captain further relaxed into Havers and curled into the strong and muscular arms holding tight around him.

“Sleep now,” Havers murmured low and deep into his ear, sending a shiver down the Captain’s spine. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Taking in one final deep breath before sleep overcame him, the Captain whispered into the dark, safe space Havers had helped create for him: “Thank you.”

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clearlynotjanus · 3 years ago

Text

Whumptober: Day Two, Talking is Overrated

READ ON AO3

Chapter Summary: Ever since Remus returned from his isolation in the Imagination, things between Janus & Virgil have been strained. Virgil can’t deny that he finds Remus attractive, & Janus doesn’t seem to have a problem with this, but there’s a lot lurking just under the surface of his feelings that makes being with either of them far more difficult than it should be. CW: Dubious consent, panic attacks, anxiety, crying, blowjobs, deepthroating, graphic description of sexual acts Word Count: 5160 Genre: Hurt, Smut, Angst, Whump Rating: Explicit Ships: Dukexiety with a dash of Anxceitmus Author Notes: Soooo you’ll notice that this is very out of the realm of the stuff I usually write. I’m giving everyone a warning right now, this is dubcon & it’s all hurt, no comfort. If you’re familiar with my writing, right about now you’re asking who the fuck is this because this sure isn’t Andrew-Moceit-Fluff-Anderson, & you’re right! This is extremely out of character for me! But sometimes you just gotta hurt the anthropomorphized version of your panic disorder to get through some shit, you know? lmao. Maybe that’s relatable, maybe you’re wondering if my hitaus has turned me into a psycho; who knows! But anyway! I’m using Whumptober to explore some...less than savory topics. So honestly, a big fat “Don’t like, don’t read” / “Dead Dove Don’t Eat” on everything I post this month. But if you’re into it! Hell yeah! I hope you enjoy! :D

Taglist: @sanderssidesangsttrash @catalinaacosta @whatishappeningrightnow @anxiousbean4404 @vexelore @ranboo-but-booran @serpentinesomebody @poptartsaysurloved @robertdownerjr @dangitsbrightinhere @iamuncomffy @sanderdarksides @dragonfander @virgilstarantula @a-rudethude @indubitably-emo @gay-artist-626 @edupunkn00b @wouldntyou-liketoknow @awesomerandomgirl1 @cosplayhanna @rizzyluke @all-panic-nodisco @remy-the-lemon-berry @their-royal-fiensishness @xravynsflamex @imma-potatoo @obsxdiannn

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Hearing the television downstairs, Virgil decided that four in the afternoon was as good a time as any to leave his room for the day. With ghostly silent steps, he descended the stairs - only to stand awkwardly at the foot. His eyes settled on Janus who was staring at the flickering screen, a gloved hand bore the weight of his head with a cupped cheek. Virgil’s heart rate thrummed in his ears like an approaching war drum, nearly drowning out the indecisive show clips. The irregular pattern of noise began a pressure between his eyes as he strained to keep up with alternating sounds of unfamiliar shows.

“Oh is that o--” Virgil started, recognizing a voice finally with several ounces of relief. His head turned as Janus clicked past a rerun of The Twilight Zone.

He blinked, pausing on the following station as he looked up at Virgil with furrowed brows.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Virgil said, shaking his head. With long steps he quickly retreated to the kitchen as Janus shrugged and resumed his mindless clicking.

Virgil collapsed against the kitchen counter, a palm splayed heavily behind him as though his life depended on it, the other gripping his stomach. Breathe, he ordered himself sternly, tightly closing his eyes and drawing in a breath he struggled to keep quiet. In, 1, 2, 3, 4. Hold, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. Out, 1, 2, 3, 4 --

“Virgil, since you’re in the kitchen,” Janus called, hardly louder than his speaking voice, but the sound made Virgil jump regardless. Instinctually a hand slammed over his mouth to keep the inevitable squeak on his tongue. “Would you be a darling and make us some tea?”

“Y-yeah! Sure!” He said, peeling his palm off his lips. As Janus remained silent, Virgil sighed heavily.

He repeated his breathing exercise as the water boiled, again as he dumped a ridiculous amount of sugar in one mug and a single teaspoon in another, once more as he placed a bag of Red Rose strawberry cheesecake flavored herbal tea in one mug and a bag of standard Lipton black in the other. His hands had stopped shaking by the time he carried both steaming cups out and placed them on the coffee table.

Typically he wasn’t one for hot drinks outside of the occasional hot chocolate in fall, but the idea of bringing Janus something without one of whatever it was for himself had always felt...off. Awkward maybe, or just weird; Virgil couldn’t say, but it always compelled him to inevitably join Janus, even if that was the last thing he wanted.

“Oh delightful,” Janus said, immediately wrapping his hands around the molten mug. Virgil flinched just thinking about touching something that hot, but Janus simply leaned back against the couch with a look Virgil could only describe as stupidly content.

“Yeah,” He mumbled and again found himself standing there.

Why was he always so awkward? Virgil internally lamented, wondering what normal people did with their hands. He’d been with Janus on this side of the Mindscape for four years now; had watched television and drank tea with him plenty of times. But it never felt easier. Janus put him on edge, for more than a handful of reasons; some harmful and some not.

Fight or Flight - more aptly upgraded to Paranoia these days - in theory was necessary for something like Self Preservation. A healthy dose of Anxiety kept one vigilant about their health and surroundings; it provided information for Self Preservation to react to and plan for. On paper, they should be a smooth running machine; Virgil would alert Janus to dangers and Janus would provide the escape route. The wrench was that communication was neither of their strong suits; but after four years, Janus didn’t really need Virgil to speak. He knew his problematic little spider well enough by now.

“Sit down already,” Janus waved a hand to the open end of the couch. “Your angst is suffocating.”

“S-sorry,” Virgil mumbled and sat on the opposite side of the L shaped couch.

“Tsk.”

The two sipped their respective cups in a smothering silence. Virgil’s shoulders ached under the weight. Should he talk? Was Janus going to say something? He stole a glance at his partner, and a sigh caught at the back of his throat at the sight. Janus sat upright, drinking his tea and staring at the television without even a furrow between his brow. Why was he always so goddamn content?

“You’re still upset.”

“No,” Virgil rushed, the sudden observation pumping adrenaline through his blood. Janus hadn’t even looked at him - how the hell had he made any sort of observation, true or not? The air around them sweetened. Janus narrowed his eyes condescendingly, finally sparing a glance at him to offer the expression. They both knew that was a lie. Virgil bowed his head, needing to look away.

“You should really know better by now.” Janus complained into this teacup, but to Virgil’s ears, it just sounded like an insult.

He should know better by now than to lie to Janus’ face. Or maybe he should know better by now than to get upset at Thomas’ lies. But Virgil struggled to say it wasn’t the thought of Thomas lying that lurched his stomach. The words knotted his tongue and tightened his throat until even the tea wouldn’t go down.

Of course Janus knew this; knew every bit of Virgil’s simple psychology. His words were being misconstrued in that buzzing mind of his at this very moment. Even his intent from yesterday; misunderstood, which is what got them here of course. What was bothering Virgil was very easy to understand; when continuously faced with the fact that Janus unflinchingly told Thomas to lie, manipulate, and do whatever he must to get what he wants, it was only a matter of time before Virgil began to wonder if those very same morals were at play in their relationship.

The answer was equally obvious, Janus thought, and therefore Virgil should know better by now.

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed with a sigh, but the bitterness continued to strangle him, and Janus felt no need to get into the topic. If they continued pretending as though things were fine, eventually they would be, which was usually his philosophy in dealing with Virgil’s anxiety.

The crushing silence rang in Virgil’s ears despite the ease it came to Janus with. Paranoia - it was a very difficult experience and talking himself off the ledge was getting harder every day. The thought of Janus hurting him was haunting. How far would he go to get his way? The things he implied Thomas should be willing to do...were they things Janus was willing to do to him? Virgil gulped, and then jumped five inches off the couch.

“Sup, emo,” Remus greeted nasally, having barrelled down the stairs in microseconds. Virgil’s heart all but stopped as he cursed at the warm tea that had splashed on his hand with the shock.

With no amount of hesitance, Remus flopped on the couch and forced his head into Janus’ lap. Though Janus looked generally disgruntled about the loud interruption, he still lifted his arms and adjusted to make himself available.

“Aw damn,” Remus continued gruffly, ignoring Virgil’s flinch and discomfort as he gave a grotesque sniff to the air. “You made tea and didn’t even heat me up any bleach? Booooooooo.”

“Sorry,” Virgil spat sarcastically, scrunching his nose, “I try not to think about you.”

“That’s not what you said last night.” Remus mocked and Virgil choked on his inhale, going red.

“Be nice, Remus.” Janus bounced his leg gently, jostling him. “You know he’s much too frigid for that in this clearly public space. I mean, anyone could walk in at any moment.”

Remus snickered, folding his arms behind his head as Janus spoke with mocking alarm. He looked at Virgil expectantly and only had to wait a second before the bickering began.

“I am not frigid,” Virgil said, blushing still.

“Prove it, Daddy Long Legs,” Remus wiggled his brows suggestively. Virgil glared, but couldn’t keep the paranoia from creeping up on him; anxiously, he glanced at Janus, struggling to keep his attention on Remus. Janus, as though entirely separate from this conversation, seemed to be minding his own business now; he took a loud sip of his tea and kept his vision trained on the television that was quickly being drowned out by their arguing.

“H-how?” Virgil asked when he realized Janus wasn’t going to butt in, immediately regretting his decision to indulge Remus.

“Suck my dick,” he said quickly like he had just been waiting for Virgil to ask. “Right here in the living room!” His hands reached for his waistband. Covertly Janus reacted; as though he had inhaled at the wrong time, he quietly cleared his throat into a cupped hand.

“No!” Virgil protested immediately, recoiling as he nervously looked towards the staircase.

“Prude.”

“Am not!”

“Virgin.”

“That’s just plain wrong!”

Virgil’s face had gone a deep scarlet and again he regretted his words. Anger seized his throat; though he hadn’t raised his volume, his words were heated and bitter. Remus, for all his apparent disinterest as the insults were slung, just couldn’t do away with the pleased sparkle in his eyes that always came with riling Virgil up.

“Is it really now, Screamo?” Remus taunted and Virgil pushed his tempered tongue against the side of his cheek.

“You know it is,” His words came out slow and ground between his teeth. He hated Remus for making him say these things out loud, for making him acknowledge the truths he purposefully left hidden under his bedsheets.

“Do I?” Remus dug a finger into his ear, giving Virgil a stupid and ignorant expression. “Sorry, Cindy Lou Boo, must’ve just…slipped my mind.” He finished with a shrug that held both his hands open.

Virgil groaned and pulled his knees to his chest, slamming back against the couch in a show of edgy annoyance. He glowered straight ahead, unseeing at the window as his rage-filled heart hammered against his ears.

“See what I mean?” Janus mumbled, a smirk just barely hidden behind his teacup. “Frigid.” He raised a shoulder in a half effort shrug.

The words cut Virgil deep, deeper than Remus’ digs had. Janus was always cold and pointed with his insults. They hit hard and lingered with murderous precision. Remus’ were fast and easy to ignore in the long run. Virgil forced himself to take a breath; his lungs expanded against his legs. This was a stupid arguement to be having. They both knew what Virgil was like in bed, which he guessed was why they liked teasing him, but it wasn’t fun. Not for him anyway. Even so, it made Virgil feel like he had something to prove.

Maybe it was some sort of twisted aspect of toxic masculinity or something, but he couldn’t just let their jeering go. It festered in him, the need to be recognized as one of them, because these days it really was feeling like Janus and Remus were against him, which was fucked up if you asked Virgil. He’d been with Janus the longest, so why was Remus able to just swoop in and act like this? Virgil steeled himself with more deep breaths before opening his mouth.

“Talking is overrated,” Virgil started and Janus peered through the corner of his eyes, recognizing how uncharacteristic of him those words were. “If you can’t remember, I’ll just have to remind you.”

“Hell yeah,” Remus immediately enthused, a wide grin cracking his face as he reached for his waistband.

“N-not here,” Virgil rushed, desperately clinging to the cool tone he had used just a moment ago. Remus pouted and Virgil raised his eyes to insinuate one of their bedrooms above them. “Later.”

“Fiiiiiiiiine,” He bemoaned, crossing his arms and sinking back into the couch, his head colliding Janus’ lap again.

“Well then,” Janus mumbled and reached for the remote.

-----

Remus maintained a rough grip in Virgil’s hair. When his fingers had first tightly laced at the roots, Virgil had yelped and felt the familiar tingle of adrenaline prick down his spine. Now, even though Remus hadn’t let up at all, it felt mostly numb - at least in comparison to everything else. His boney knees had begun going red against the carpet, even behind the fabric of his jeans. The color was both from how harsh Remus had pushed him down onto them and for how long he’d been kneeling. His throat ached something raw. His lungs strained against his ribs. His cock struggled for friction against the boot between his thighs.

Virgil’s subdued cries fell on sadistic ears; not apathetic or deaf ones. Remus was spurred on by how Virgil’s protests interrupted the wet sound of his cock colliding against the back of his throat. Virgil knew that of course, and it was a thin line to be riding. Tonight, the margin for error felt smaller than usual.

Perhaps it was his interaction with Janus earlier or maybe it was the instigation this was founded on, but Remus’ grin seemed to glow maliciously down at him. The walls of his throat squeezed unusually tight, reluctant to relax no matter how many deep and even breaths Virgil forced through his nose. His hands shook against his thighs with the restraint of keeping his fight or flight at bay. It wasn’t typically this difficult, taking Remus’ cock and swallowing his violence. For all his objection in the living room earlier, the crude mockery of love that was his lewd time spent with Remus was enjoyable for him. Usually.

Tonight his body reacted like a great duality sliced a canyon in his mind; though he could feel his cock throbbing against his pants and his hips aching to press down against the rigid surface of Remus’ shoe, the familiar animal of panic surged through him, screaming danger like a mating Bellbird. Remus’ hand pressed Virgil’s head down further, his cock searching for the give that’d have him sliding down with ease. Virgil’s eyes watered; even in pain he struggled to maintain eye contact. His vision swam as he glanced between Remus’ unwavering, heated stare and the ceiling just behind his head.

“Relax already, Virge,” Remus complained, reaching with his other hand to tip Virgil’s head back by his chin.

He whined, though the sound quickly became strangled against the obstruction. He was trying, he was trying so hard to let Remus cram himself down, but the more Remus pressed, the more obvious it became that Virgil’s throat wasn’t letting up; and the more obvious that became, the more distressed Virgil got. He was trying, why wasn’t it working? It always did, he was always able to do at least this much. If he couldn’t even deepthroat Remus…maybe they were right. Shame tightened his chest as Janus’ voice rang through his mind. You know he’s much too frigid for that…

Janus couldn’t be right about that. Virgil wouldn’t let Janus be right about that. Rallying, Virgil shifted forward on his knees, straightening his back. His crotch slid further up Remus’ boot, and despite the tears in his eyes, Virgil looked desperately stubborn.

“Ooooh,” Remus almost sang, his voice entertained as he tugged the tuft of Virgil’s hair in his grip and earned a gargled cry. “You’re finally ready to try, Scare Bear?”

He winced; he was already trying, but it was probably a good thing, Virgil thought, that Remus didn’t realize that. It’d just make him look that much more pathetic.

With a deep breath, Virgil squeezed his eyes shut. His knuckles went white as they gripped the hem of his shirt. He forced his jaw to relax, his tongue to press flat against the bottom of his mouth. This would hurt. He steeled himself for pain. The Bellbird rioted in his ears and every other thought hazed as he pressed forward of his own volition. Remus’ hands guided him forward as his cock split through the anxious knot in his throat. The courage of determination and humiliation wasn’t enough to numb the agony. His eyes shot open and the muscles in his neck tensed to pull back as Remus’ cock penetrated beyond his soft palate and teased at the entrance of his esophagus.

Remus’ eyes fluttered shut as he moaned, his head falling back as though it was a great effort to stay standing as pleasure coursed through him. Virgil’s panic rose and no amount of nonverbal approval could prevent him from jerking away - or at least trying to. As he pulled back, feeling his lungs burn for air, he realized the real reason Remus’ hands had stayed lodged in his hair and gripped on his jaw; to hold him in place when he inevitably changed his mind. At the revelation, Virgil squirmed, his hands unconsciously reaching for Remus’ pant leg as muffled pleas wedged between the walls of his throat and Remus’ cock. Virgil struggled, his movements frenzying the longer Remus went without a reaction. He clawed at Remus’ leg as his jaw reflexively tightened. His front teeth grazed the intrusive member between his lips and despite Virgil’s misery, he attempted to keep his mouth open. Tears streaked down his cheeks and his thoughts crescendo to their steepest point of doom; he would die here.

Remus sighed and loosened his hold on the back of Virgil’s head, enough for him to slide backwards several inches until his cock rested at the back of his throat, no longer obstructing Virgil’s breath. But Virgil continued to push back, wanting to eject the horror completely. He shook his head and stared up at Remus with pleading, terror-filled eyes.

“God, Dee’s right, you’re such a Drama King. Breathe already,” Remus said with an exasperated eye roll.

The mention of Janus felt like a slap across the face. How often did they talk about him? Did they only have bad things to say? His stomach flipped and he forced his eyes closed. He already suspected it was like that; he shouldn’t act so shocked. Ever since Remus has come back from the Imagination, he was closer to Janus than Virgil had ever been. It made him beyond jealous, beyond paranoid - but could it really be called paranoia if he was proven right?

Though Remus’ words were harsh, Virgil eventually obeyed, realizing he was right as a slow and even breath went through his nose and down to his lungs easily. It didn’t matter what Janus said about him, Virgil lied to himself. It didn’t matter if they talked behind his back. He’d prove them wrong.

“Good, now stop being such a wuss already,” Remus continued as Virgil’s panic began to subside. Little by little his deep breaths chipped away at the looming wall of his anxiety until eventually, only a line of bricks remained.

He was fine. He did this all the time - well not all the time but frequently enough that it was pretty ridiculous of him to make such a big deal out of it. He blushed, thinking about how pitiful he must’ve looked, struggling to get half of Remus’ cock down. Embarrassment swelled and he swallowed against the feeling, closing his lips around Remus in the process. He gave a small nod and readied himself. This time, he wouldn’t be such a coward.

Remus’ hand tensed in Virgil’s hair and a flinch coiled in his muscles; but the moment remained paused as Remus hesitated.

“Pull your pants down.”

Virgil blinked up at him, a dumb look on his face as his fearful mind struggled to keep up.

“Pants. Down.” Remus repeated like it was the most obvious thing in the world, his tone bewildered. He lifted his foot which remained pressed against Virgil’s cock; the jolt of sudden pressure seemed to get the point across finally.

Virgil unfurled his hands from Remus’ pant leg. His knuckles cracked from being released for the first time in several long minutes. The blood rushed back to them as he fumbled with his zipper and button. Clumsily he maneuvered them down his thighs and below his knees enough. With that done, he looked back at Remus, wanting to just get on with this already. His hardon had shrunk significantly with his earlier pain and even thinking about getting off now made his skin crawl. He wanted to get this over with. His throat ached, his head was pounding, and his knees were raw.

“Boxers too, Spidey,” Remus said impatiently.

Virgil sighed through his nose. He should’ve seen that coming. He looked down, though from his angle he couldn’t see very far without taking Remus’ cock out of his mouth, which was very clearly unallowed by the hands holding his head still. The color on his cheeks darkened at the realization; if he took his boxers off, there’d be nothing between him and Remus’ boot. Disgust overtook him. He didn’t want to touch those things with his hands, let alone his cock.

“My shoes are clean, Sir Bite.” Remus said, tone full of disdain as though it was completely out of the realm of possibilities that his shoes were dirty. “I’m going soft,” He lamented, pushing Virgil’s head forward an inch to feel some friction, making him squeak in surprise. “Hurry up.”

Dejected, he repeated the process, albeit a bit quicker this time, and exposed his half-hard cock. He held it in his hand as he shifted himself back into position; spine straight, thighs separated, head tilted back with his jaw slack and lips tight - though he hadn’t had much of a choice with the latter part. Remus bent his head to the side and peered with dissatisfaction at the way Virgil refused to let his cock touch his shoe. Again he lifted his foot, pointedly pressing against Virgil’s hand as his eyes rolled to lock their gaze. Virgil’s cock twitched in his grip as Remus nearly glared at him with expectation; he resented the thing for it. There was no way such a revolting insinuation should get that sort of rise out of him…and yet, it had. His stomach churned and his nerves frayed as Remus refused to move. It was clear nothing would start or end until Virgil released his cock.

Slowly Virgil closed his eyes again, resigning himself to a very hot, very soapy shower later. He released his hand and rested both, once more, on his thighs. His cock pressed against the leather of Remus’ shoe. It felt…demeaning, Virgil thought. He especially hated how it curled his muscles with anticipation. He cursed internally and refused to meet Remus’ knowing stare. Bastard.

“Good. Now deep breath, emo.” He warned a second before he began to press forward again.

Panic exploded through him like a bullet with the words as his eyes shot open. He rushed to inhale as told in the moment that Remus’ cock inched beyond the back of his throat again. The adrenaline of fight or flight flooded his blood, electrifying his brain with the lone command to flee. But Remus’ hands and eyes paralyzed him; even if Virgil could find it in himself to move as irrational fear crippled him, he’d be prevented. He hadn’t noticed at what point he had stopped crying, but a renewed wetness began trickling down his cheeks, dripping onto his shaking hands.

His cock hardened against Remus’ boot despite himself, the feeling of being trapped somehow translating to arousal as Remus began violating his esophagus with paced thrusts and deep groans. Virgil knew that was exactly what Remus wanted; for all his pain and dread to transform into surrender and lust. That’s how it usually went so it was no wonder his cock dripped against the leather, preparing for the moment Virgil’s desire to run flipped on its head and he embraced his instinct to fight instead. But it was so much more difficult tonight to simply let that happen.

Virgil choked out a defeated whine, blinking rapidly as tears blurred his vision. The sound made Remus’ cock twitch aggressively; his movements hastened and Virgil gargled on his welling spit as his lungs began burning again.

“You know what to do,” Remus grunted, gripping his jaw tighter as he plunged deep enough to press Virgil’s lips against his crotch. He could feel his Adam’s apple taut against his skin. “To make it stop hurting so much.” Virgil thought if he wasn’t preoccupied, the words would’ve sounded like a laugh. Instead they were rushed, like Virgil’s pain was an annoyance rather than a concern.

Twenty seconds had passed and Virgil started to think he was going to die again. It hurt so much, all of it, and Remus was right; there was one way to make it stop, or at least dull it a bit, but Virgil didn’t want to think about that. The idea of moving his hips to gain friction against Remus’ shoe was…outrageous, ludicrous, crazy. But His cock ached for it, dripped precum against the cloth laces for it. Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting. He shook his head as much as he could and choked out a wet wail. Remus clicked his tongue and seemed to shrug about it; it wasn’t his problem if Virgil didn’t take him up on the relief he was offering.

The obscene sound of Remus’ cock pushing all the way down Virgil’s throat filled the room. It invaded his mind and seemed to be in rhythm with his heart, drowning the sound out. Ten more seconds and he struggled to keep his eyes open. Five more and his heart desynced from the even tempo of Remus’ thrusts. His pulse slowed and it was like he was standing in the living room, listening to Janus rapidly flick through the television channels again; a pressure formed between his eyes as he strained to keep up with what was happening. A dull panic nauseated his stomach. A sudden flash of heat like a desert wind beaded sweat at the back of his neck.

Was this enough? Did he live up to the expectation now? They couldn’t still call him frigid or a prude or accuse him of being a virgin after this, right? If he held on long enough and let Remus cum like this, maybe they’d even stop teasing him so much. Virgil hoped that was true, oh, he hoped so much. This could be just like a hazing ritual; he’d pass with flying colors if he could just sit still and take Remus’ brutality without flinching.

His thoughts became nonsensical as his body ran out of oxygen. This wasn’t a hazing ritual. This was just how Remus was. He’d never be comfortable around Janus again. He’d never have Janus to himself anymore; Remus would always be standing in the way like some twisted guard. Even in moments of peace, the inevitability of his unsettling nature put Virgil on edge. No amount of Deceit could cover the truth anymore. Thomas was sick and Remus was the proof.

As his vision went dark, Remus released his grip on Virgil’s hair. His fight or flight returned all at once as he was finally able to pull away. Falling backwards, a hand clawed at his throat, the other bracing himself up in a shaky way as he gasped and choked for air. Everything he knew about steadying his breathing had exited his mind somehow. He scrambled for ways to calm his now pounding heart; his wide eyes snapped across the room, up at Remus, across the room, up at Remus. What was it again? Something about counting, right? Panic climbed higher and higher until Virgil was sure his throat would close or his heart would burst, whichever came first would be the end of him.

Remus watched, a brow raised as he stroked his reddened cock, inches from finishing himself off. He wasn’t stupid, he knew the telltale signs of Virgil’s panic whatevers. He just didn’t understand them; why they happened, why Virgil made such a big deal out of them. If Virgil knew even a fraction of the things that went through his head, then maybe he’d have something to panic about. Virgil had it pretty easy in comparison.

“What’s with the hissy fit, Purple Heart Attack?” Remus said, voice strained with labored breathing as he closed the distance between them.

Virgil made a high pitched sound and went to crawl backwards. He was only successful for a moment before Remus caught his hand and brought it up to his cock. Reluctantly, Virgil wrapped his fingers around the width as he was physically instructed.

“C’mon, loser, I’m almost there.” Remus grunted as he forced Virgil’s hand to move against him; eventually he began to mechanically move his arm without aid.

Just a few more minutes, Virgil told himself, but the dizziness grew a heavy fog behind his eyes as his throat continued to clamp down on itself. His rhythm was uneven, his arm grew numb and Remus’ impatience surmounted into an agitated sound. He slapped Virgil’s hand away and took the final steps to tower over him. Grabbing his own length roughly, Remus stroked fast and hard, his sounds cresting to a loud moan of release as his eyes squeezed shut. Virgil froze, unable to look away until Remus came; his semen landed in streaks across Virgil’s face and the floor behind him.

They both panted, hard and heavy with shaking hands. It was over, but as Remus’ high faded in the afterglow, Virgil’s panic only continued to rise. With a quiet and involuntary cry, Virgil’s hands reached out, searching for a comfort his logical mind, if at all present, would have realized didn’t exist in Remus. Predictably, Remus stepped back, adjusting his pants into place as he avoided Virgil’s grip.

“What?” He said, tone so condescending, Virgil had almost thought Janus was in the room. “It’s like you said; talking is overrated, right?”

Virgil’s arms fell as tears burned his eyes. When did Remus get that good at cutting deep? Weren’t his insults always easy to avoid, or at least get over? Even though Remus had just spoken those words, Virgil felt them settling deep in his bones. They would haunt him forever, he could already tell.

“Right.” He sniffled as Remus turned away and headed for the door. Virgil wiped his nose wetly on his sleeve.

Remus left, not caring that he had closed the door so hard, the wall decor had rattled. Virgil flinched at the sound and pulled his knees to his chest, which certainly didn’t help how difficult it was to breathe. He was glad they always did this in his room; he didn’t think he would’ve had it in him to stand, pull his pants up, and sink out before the loud sobs began. Equally, he didn’t know if the sobs were from anger, embarrassment, or loneliness. Maybe it was some unfortunate mix of all three.

#dukexiety #remus sanders #virgil sanders #tss fanfiction #whumptober2021 #no.2 #talking is overrated #fic #dubcon #smut #nsfwhump

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allegedlyanandroid · 4 years ago

Note

Pairing: Allen60 Prompt: Cold Types: Found Family, Fluff AU: Angels and Demons, Sixty as the little devil he is, and Allen just being human.

I am so late 😅 I wrote an entire thing before realising I hated every word of it and started over from scratch. Anyway... excuses aside, I hope you like it @yayen-chan <3 `(‾◡◝)´

“Okay, bookshelves first,” Allen mutters, following the intricate maze of arrows and concrete as he tries to navigate the local IKEA. “Or rugs. That works too,” he sighs when he glances up and finds himself in the wrong part of the store. Looking through the copious amounts of different rugs Allen rapidly finds himself overwhelmed. He tries reading a few of the ridiculously complicated names, stuttering over them when trying to read them out loud. “Ra- raskmol- mölle?”

Giving up on the fifth time trying to pronounce it correctly Allen rolls the grey-and-black striped fabric up and tosses it on the cart, already dreading trying to find the rest of the items on his list. There’s only one really but when passing through the plant-section he stops to pick up a potted plant. The other one is beyond salvaging from lack of water. “Ilex, foreeneling? För-enlig. What are these names?”

After another dead-end and some frustrated grumbling, he does find the bookshelf he needs. Honestly… this trip alone solidifies why he’s never getting a puppy. The one he took in to foster was a sweet thing but very demanding and unaware that he weighed quite a lot for a pup. He’d knocked Allen’s bookshelf over, thus breaking it, and also had an accident on his rug. If being petless meant never having to go here again then that’s a price he’s willing to pay. At least the shelter had found a family for him quickly and, while he did miss the little rascal, the puppy was undoubtedly in better hands.

“Kallax, hemnes... gersby?”

Too caught up in his own head he doesn't notice the strange scent of warm brimstone and ash filtering through the air nor does he notice the young “man” standing behind him, a man who seemingly appeared out of thin air, until he hears the sound of a throat clearing. Allen jerks his head up from wrestling with the cardboard box and offers an apologetic smile over his shoulder. “I’ll be done in a minute.”

“Or, you could tell me why I’m here and spare me the mundane small talk you humans seem so obnoxiously fond of.”

“I’m sorry?”

The man squints. “You summoned me.”

Allen pauses to take a good look at the man. He’s tall with black, artistically tousled hair and endless amounts of freckles. A few moles are scattered across his skin and his brown eyes are filled with irritation. Dark jeans with a long-sleeved shirt tucked into it, a black overcoat ending at about mid-thigh and a purple scarf hanging unknotted around his neck. Allen thinks long and hard yet finds no recollection of ever seeing this man before in his life let alone speaking to him. “I have no idea who you are.”

“You-” the man pinches the bridge of his nose, inhales deeply and slowly let it out before starting again. “You read the incantation to evoke me and you what… didn’t even realise it?” he asks and receives nothing but a blank stare from Allen in return. “Ugh, humans.”

In the blink of an eye the man transforms. Horns curve with the shape of his skull, producing from close to his temples, before ending in sharp tips that blend in with his raven hair. A black tail is wrapped around his leg which ends with a jagged spear-like point. The tips of his fingers look like they’ve been dipped in charcoal, fading into dark grey about halfway up his fingers, with claw-like black nails top it all off. They tap against the metal shelf next to them as the demon slowly advances.

Too shocked to move, Allen’s jaw is taken in a firm grip and when the demon smiles his teeth are pointed blades. “So… are you going to tell me what it is you want?”

“You can let go of my face for a start,” Allen says, adding a quick “thank you,” when the demon does as he’s told. “What’s your name?”

“You may call me Sixty.”

“Sixty,” Allen repeats. “No offence but I quite like having my soul intact. I’m sorry for dragging you from… whatever circle of hell you reside in, but I’m not interested in making any sort of deal with you.”

“Sucks to be you then because I’m not leaving until you do,” Sixty says and from his tone of voice alone Allen knows he’s a hundred percent serious.

‘Fucking IKEA.’

“Really? You couldn’t have chosen to live somewhere a bit warmer?” Sixty asks with disdain, thankfully back to looking human. His feet sink into the four inches worth of snow dusting the ground and he can already feel the cold seeping in through the gaps in his clothing. “Or somewhere nicer in general.”

“No one’s forcing you to stay.”

“No one’s forcing you to live here.” A pause. “Or if they are, I am more than willing to kill them for you free of charge.”

Allen sighs.

Having a demon for a housemate isn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Sixty mostly keeps to himself whenever he isn’t trying to get a rise out of him or complaining about the cold or putting things on tall shelves like the little shit he is. Until Sixty gets bored that is.

Because when Sixty gets bored trouble ensues.

Emerging from his office after a long day of meetings to see his demonic housemate casually chatting with parts of his team in the breakroom is a bit out of left field and the sight of Sixty’s mischievous eyes boring into his own is enough to quicken his pace. “What are you doing here, Si- Silas?” he asks, forcing a smile on his face.

He hates how no one else can look past the innocent brown eyes and syrupy grin to see the smugness beneath. “I thought we were supposed to eat lunch together? Did you forget?”

“No, of course not,” Allen hastens to say, ignoring Willis and Clark’s knowing grins, as he wracks his brain for a response. “Though I distinctly remember asking you to wait outside.”

“It would have been rude of me to decline Julie’s offer of getting coffee,” Sixty replies and raises his mug as if to show it off.

“No need to be jealous, boss. We just wanted to get to know the guy better,” Julie says.

“Yeah, it’s not like we’ve ever seen you hang out with anyone outside of work apart from Reed,” Clark pipes up. “We got curious.”

“I’m not jealous!” Allen tries to defend himself, latching on to the word, but the agitated tone does nothing to help his case. Sixty smirking behind the rim of the coffee cup like a cat who got the cream isn’t helping to improve his mood either.

“You are the pettiest asshole I’ve ever had the unfortunate luck of meeting,” Allen says when they’re safely away from prying eyes.

Sixty snickers, knowing full well the amount of endless curiosity and ceaseless questions he’s unleashed on the human. “There’s an easy way to get rid of me.”

The fistful of snow he gets shoved in his face shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

By the time he manages to blink the melting snow out of his eyes Allen is too far away to retaliate, though that doesn’t stop Sixty from trying.

Despite his best efforts Sixty’s irritation with being unceremoniously dragged into the mortal plane dissipates after the third week of staying with Allen. By the time he’s been there for a month and a half, Allen’s team have adopted him as one of their own and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t flattered. They genuinely care about his well-being and often invite him along on outings. As someone whose family is… overbearing, their light-hearted ribbing is a nice change of pace. Their easy dynamic is the very opposite of stifling. No one ever pries when he declines to answer a question. No one touches him after he made it clear he dislikes physical contact. No one quizzes him about his every movement.

It’s… nice.

The next team building exercise and subsequent photo op, proudly displayed on the communal fridge, includes him and Sixty doesn’t cry even a little bit upon seeing that.

Not at all.

In the end, the shift in their relationship is near seamless ‒ from reluctant roommates to friends to something more.

What hits him first is the metallic scent of fresh blood and Sixty is halfway across the room before he can even process rising to his feet. He gathers Allen up in his arms and leads him to sit down on one of the kitchen chairs. Part of his dark shirt is tacky with blood and Sixty feels no remorse when he shreds it to get it off as quickly as possible. Something, a bullet or knife, must have grazed his side. It’s bleeding sluggishly though it thankfully isn’t deep. Sixty takes the ruined shirt and presses it against the wound. “Keep putting pressure on it.”

Allen doesn’t answer and in the end he’s the one who has to move Allen’s hand to take over while he dashes to the bathroom for the medkit. Sixty plunks it down on the floor and fills a bowl of lukewarm water to put down beside it before fetching a clean towel. He kneels down between Allen’s legs and cleans meticulously around the area, noting the patches of skin where bruises are slowly forming. Swiping over the wound with antiseptic earns him a bitten-off hiss and Sixty puts a hand on Allen’s sternum to steady him after the first involuntary flinch.

He keeps it there, soothed by feeling the steady thrum of Allen’s heartbeat beneath his fingertips, until he needs the use of both his hands. In its absence, Sixty’s tail comes up to wrap loosely around his thigh for comfort.

Butterfly bandages instead of sutures, his tail instead of his hand. Allen doesn’t say a word about either choice though he is smiling down where they’re connected once Sixty chances a quick peek.

There’s nothing left for him to do after covering the wound with gauze, taping the edges down, yet Sixty finds himself lingering there regardless.

It’s easy to trace around the gauze with the very tip of a claw and when he catches Allen’s dark eyes the urge to lean down to place a gentle kiss over it wins out. Allen sighs quietly and coaxes Sixty up to kiss him properly ‒ a chaste press of lips against lips followed by a sincere thank you.

Sixty blushes and knocks his forehead against Allen’s, mindful of his horns, in a silent show of affection.

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“Because I literally stepped in the door a second ago?” Allen laughs and pulls Sixty in for a quick kiss.

“Excuses,” Sixty sniffs and steals another kiss, one that quickly devolves into a dozen pecks being pressed all over his face until Allen plants a last lingering one to his lips.

“I love you,” Allen says when they break apart for real.

The shy smile spreading over Sixty’s lips is one he’ll never tire of seeing.

#slowly but surely working my way through these #sorry it's taking so long #dbh allen #captain allen #dbh sixty #rk800 sixty #allen60 #dbh #detroit: become human #detroit become human #allegedly answering asks #mini fic #my writing #that awkward moment when you're in an ikea and accidentally summon a demon

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desiraypark · 4 years ago

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A Busy Holiday

This was supposed to follow a prompt, but per usual, I deviated lol. Characters: Chris McKay x Black Female Reader / Also: parents, grandparents, siblings, and best friends. (Note: I gave you the last name “Davis”) Content: Fluff; a little angst?; worry; overthinking; couple issues. Word Count: 1,659

McKay had been acting strange all week. He’d been avoiding you—responding to texts with single phrases or short sentences; not answering phone calls at all. The two of you were supposed to hang out during the holidays, and you’d spend Christmas Eve with your family, and Christmas Day with his. You wanted to go over your plans, but he just did not seem invested. Sure, he worked at a real estate agency, but surely people weren’t buying houses during the holidays? Or, maybe you were just an idiot who knew nothing about real estate...

Sigh...your parents always warned you about your tendency to jump to conclusions about everything, so you kept your cool. But now, it was two days before Christmas Eve, and you needed to know what was up. So, you called him, and finally, he answered.

“Hey, baby…” he said with a tired voice. “McKay? What the fuck is up?!” “I’m sorry, baby. I’ve been super busy.” “Me too, McKay, but I still make time to call. We’re supposed to be spending Christmas break together. Is that still happening, or no?” “Yes, it’s still happening. We agreed to do what we did last year, right? Christmas Eve with your people, then Christmas Day with mine, then just you and me at the Ramada, right?” “Yeah, but—” “I booked the Ramada in October, remember?” he pressed. You got agitated. “Yes, but McKay, just because we’re an hour away from each other it doesn’t mean we can’t still communicate. These short conversations have me thinking that you’re up to something.” “Up to something like…working? Spending time with my family and friends? Registering for next semester? Not everybody gets to just chill on their breaks...” He had a point with that last statement, but you chose to bypass it. “Am I not family or friends, McKay?” You heard him sigh. “Look, baby. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you Christmas Eve. Early in the morning. Okay?” You rolled your eyes. “Sure. Okay.”

Christmas Eve

McKay texted you the night before, saying that he would be over at ten. Of course, you sent him a dry “K.” in response. But who were you fooling? You got up the next morning, spent an eternity in the shower, slathering soap and body scrub all over your skin and shaving non-existent hair from your legs—just in case. You rubbed coconut oil into your skin, sprayed your Versace crystal on your neck, applied a little face makeup, and slid on some popping red lipstick. Maybe you were tripping…but you were going to make sure McKay got a GOOD look at what he’d been missing out on the last three weeks.

The doorbell rang at exactly 10:00AM and your dad answered it. “What’s up, Chris?” your dad’s voice boomed throughout the house. “How you doin’, Mr. Davis?” McKay said. You heard the slapping of skin in a dap. Then, the front door closed. You gave yourself another look in the mirror—lifting your boobs in your red T-shirt, rubbing your hands along your thighs, and fluffing out your white cardigan. “I’m doin’, I’m doin’,” your father responded. “She’s in her room.” You yanked your phone off your dresser and jumped onto the bed. Then, you leaned over on your side and thumbed through the phone, pretending to be unmoved by McKay’s impending presence. He walked in with fresh braids, wearing his usual blue hoodie, some jeans, and his blue and white Jordan 11s. In his hands were a bouquet of red roses. “May I come in?” he asked jokingly. You looked up from your phone with an unimpressed look. “Sure.” He shook his head, chuckled to himself, and put the roses on your dresser. Then, he leaned over the bed and gave you a kiss on the lips. You almost fainted at the smell of cologne. “You tryna act like you ain’t happy to see me?” he asked, sitting beside you. You put down your phone and lifted your body to rest against your pillows. “I usually don’t get excited about seeing strangers,” you responded. He rolled his eyes and lean back. “Maaan, come on. Cut that shit out!” he laughed. You buried your face into your knees and laughed, but he wiggled his finger under your chin and tilted your head up. Then, he kissed your lips again. “I’m sorry, baby. But I promise you, things have just really been busy,” he said. He lowered his head and rubbed your sheets. “And…I guess I have to be honest with you.” “Please do.” “I’ve had some shit going on mentally,” he admitted. Your heart sank. You really could be an asshole. You took his hand and kissed it. “I’m sorry, baby…” “No, don’t be sorry. Nothing bad, for the most part. I’ve just really been in my head about some things...” “But you know you can talk to me about it, right?” you asked. He stared into your eyes and smiled. “Yeah, I know.” He leaned forward to kiss you again, but just as his lips were inches away from yours… “Hey, McKay!” your mother’s voice screeched. You both looked up to see her in the doorway with an ugly Christmas sweater and reindeer ears on. You scoffed and buried your face in your knees again. “Mama, what are you wearing?” “Hey, Mrs. Davis!” “Hey, McKay baby. And what do you mean what am I wearing? It’s Christmas Eve!”

You and McKay started the day with some window shopping. You’d both completed your shopping, but it wouldn’t hurt to see what was left on the shelves. Next, you went on a double date with your best friend, Mariah, and her boyfriend, Johari—first some lunch at Panera Bread, then the movies. After that, you hung out at Johari’s apartment, playing board games. McKay insisted on playing Monopoly, the longest damned game in the world; then the two of you had to dash home for dinner with your family. You came home to smooth Christmas jazz playing from the radio, dim lights and candles—very different from the usual festive setup, where The Temptations would be blasting and every single light in the house would be on—with the blinds and curtains opened, too--much to your chagrin. Both sets of your grandparents were in the living room, and you gave all four of them big hugs, as did McKay. “Babe, I’m going to go change out of this hoodie really quick,” McKay said. “Alright.” McKay returned to the living room in a crisp white Polo, but you noticed he’d changed into Khakis and dress shoes, too—the Polo shirt tucked in like he was going on a job interview. You raised an eyebrow, but figured he just wanted to be respectful. You hung out in the living room with your grandparents, and when the table was set, everyone made their way to the kitchen. Plates were already made with Dad’s famous ribeye steaks, mom’s crab cakes, and green beans. A tray of potatoes—sat in the center of the table with a bowl of sour cream beside it, a stick of butter, and the salt and pepper shakers. “McKay, would you like to say grace?” your dad suggested. Your eyebrows furrowed, because since when? “Um, sure Mr. Davis,” McKay agreed. Everyone bowed their heads. “Dear God, thank you for this day, and thank you for this dinner prepared by family…” Suddenly, the back door opened. You opened one eye to see McKay’s parents and brothers crept into the kitchen. You swung your head up and looked around at everyone and their still-bowed heads. “God, I especially thank you for allowing the Davis family to welcome me with opened arms. And today…” McKay removed his hand from yours, and suddenly, everyone’s head lifted. McKay stepped back and started digging in his pockets. Your hands flew to your mouth. “…I hope you’ll allow me to talk out of their home, with their daughter as my fiancée,” he said, pulling out a tiny box and falling to one knee. You stood frozen with your hands to your mouth and eyes wide. Then, tears started to stream down your face. “I can’t stand you McKay,” you blubbered. “I know,” he laughed. “Y/N Davis, will you marry me?” he opened the box and revealed gold band with a sparkling sapphire jewel in the middle—the exact kind of ring you told him you’d like when you were just two project partners for your Cultural Studies course—discussing marriages and weddings around the world. You shook your head in disbelief and wept. “Of course, I will, McKay. You know I will!” McKay took the ring out of the box and slid it on your finger, and your family—current and future—clapped and cheered. McKay rose to his feet, pulled you in his arms and kissed you on the lips. You rested your chin over his shoulders and spotted Mariah and Johari in the doorway. You let out a scream and a hearty laugh. “I hate y’all!” you shouted. They laughed and walked over to you and surrounded you both in hugs. “Is that why you had me in there playing some damned Monopoly?!” Everyone burst into laughter, and hugs and kisses went around.

During dinner, McKay informed you that he didn’t book the Ramada—but a weekend at a beach house through Noirbnb. You packed some lounging clothes, beach wear, and other necessities, hopped in the car with McKay, and the two of you made your way there. Of course, he teased you about your bratty attitude—and promised some punishment for it later—but the both of you promised to be better at communicating and understanding each other. You arrived at the beach house, owned by a lovely middle-aged couple, and made yourself comfortable. You were too full and tired to do what you both really wanted to do, so instead, the two of you wrapped yourselves in a blanket and sat on the beach, talking beneath the crescent moon, and before an endless ocean.

#chris mckay x black female reader #euphoria fanfiction

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zeoia · 4 years ago

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I am a warm and loving person. I always have been and always will be.

Growing up, I had to be responsible very early on. I had no choice but to be mature for my age. After all, my mother wasn't there, and we needed a mom. My father was clueless, emotionally detached as an alpha male type. Currently he's not as bad as he used to be, as he finally acknowledges that when I cry, it's not to make him angry. I am crying because I am hurting. And when I am hurting I need comfort.

It used to be about his comfort. He hated seeing the tears. He'd tell us don't you dare start crying. I bottled up emotions. I withheld feelings at home. But they kept coming out during school. I'd isolate myself to cry.

One time I had an extreme outburst to the point of getting violent. I felt unheard. I'd been unheard for so long. People weren't understanding.

I had to separate from my biological mom as a child because she was incapable of taking care of us. This created a sense of longing. There was a hole in my heart and I kept wanting to fill it up somehow.

My father remarried when I was going to middle school. I told him I was fine with it. But honestly I didn't know any better. I was nine, going on ten. How was I supposed to know that I was just saying okay because that's just what I felt dad wanted to hear.

The marriage lasted throughout middle school and fell apart during high school. My stepmom was a scary person. Especially with her son around. She became very controlling. We weren't allowed in her chairs. Not allowed to watch her television. Weren't allowed to eat her foods. She made a mental note of the amount she had left. And anytime something went wrong, despite her son being the one who had always been the one to get into trouble, somehow, my brother and I were shouldering the blame for stuff we didn't do.

We were far from perfect little babies, but the worst we did was stay up past bedtime playing video games. He was a habitual liar. A thief. He was frequently breaking into houses, including our own. The first time I remember interacting with police was because of him. He broke into a girl's house. I was so nervous and I felt small. Because I was. I was so very small.

The divorce process was messy. She wanted to take our house away. Our home. The place that my brother was building bonds in. He frequently went outside spending time with neighbors. Unlike her son, we were still kids. By this time he was approaching adulthood. We couldn't be subjected to that.

We did manage to keep the house somehow. But... Maybe it would have been better to have lost it. To have moved downtown. So my father would stop acting like it was our fault that we stayed out here.

You see, my father has this habit of saying how he wanted to move downtown, closer to where everything is, but would tell us that "you guys wanted to stay here with your friends" in a mocking way. As if a teenager and a preteen know any better. Of course we wouldn't know of what opportunities existed for us downtown. We didn't live our lives in the future. We lived our lives in the moment. Looking at the future just wasn't a thing.

And the only future I COULD think of was the inevitable end. The inescapable fate that every living being shares. Because I wanted it. I wanted it to hurry up and take me so I could stop feeling sadness. the shameful feelings that would make other people uncomfortable.

I had been tired of moving. Tired of leaving people. My childhood involved way more goodbyes than I could deal with. And I continued to be desperate to fill that hole my mother left.

In this home, we finally had a permanent place. Some sort of stability. I didn't want to let go of anything. I couldn't let go of anything. After all, every time my mother visited us, I kept having to let go. I had to let go of the person who was willing to let me cry. I had to let go of the person who frequently told me I love you. this isn't to say that my father was unloving. I still remember every day when we still lived in the apartments, my brother and I would be home alone and we'd hear the door unlocking. And we'd make a mad dash to the door to jump into his arms to be hugged by him.

But this came to an end eventually. Growing up was awkward, and it made me withdraw more. My father expected me to be more ladylike. Despite telling me stuff like "do your best" I often felt like I was failing, even if I wasn't actually failing. Things were hard for me in school. On top of the stress of the divorce, my grades were getting worse. The transition from middle school to high school was uncomfortable. I told myself I was done with goodbyes, so why did I have to say goodbye to my best friends again?

I still remember people I considered my best friends, all the way from third grade. Donna. Jessica. Tina. Martha. Karen. Rae. Megan.

Graduating high school I didn't want to let go. I was tired of letting go. Despite my frequently feeling slightly out of place, I clung to Rae and Megan. We worked the same jobs for years. And then when Rae left for college, it was just me and Megan. Two weird kids with little ability to actually make new friends.

Megan and I did everything together. I went to her house frequently. We even went to the same community college. But as an adult things were getting different. She was very interested in dating, and I was getting more into self discovery. Online, I was making friends with people who liked the things I liked. I got involved with fandoms. She was too, actually.

But our interests didn't always overlap. But in my desperation to keep doing things with my only real life friend, I forced myself to enjoy the things she did. I didn't care for super heroes. Didn't care for being a "Potthead" as they called themselves. I don't know if that's still the term. She liked a lot of things that were very white, euro-centric. I liked things that were. Well they felt different. I liked webcomics and other things I found online, rather than mainstream media. Sometimes I tried to convince her to do something that I liked to do, but she wasn't really having it. If anything she just had a preference for insulting it and making me feel bad for liking things that really weren't her taste.

Honestly I don't remember what started the build up of animosity. I remember that I lost my grandmother on my dad's side and I felt terrible because I never got to really know her. My depression was absolutely awful then and I couldn't bring myself to go to work often. I remember one day when we were looking at our paychecks and she gave me this condescending "well maybe if you didn't call out so much." And I told her "hey how would you feel if your grandfather died? What would you have done huh?" And she got mad at me for making her even think about it. Me, actively in mourning about the death of a loved one, and she's the one mad because I dared to ask her to put herself in my shoes.

The rift was growing so much bigger. But we both still wanted to hold on because we both had nobody. I... Honestly couldn't tell you what it was that was the final nail in the coffin. Maybe it was all the guilt tripping she did. She told me that she was tired of having to go everywhere with me and that it cost money to drive me from place to place, ignoring the fact that I was always going the same place with her. Work. School. We planned it out so it was convenient. And I often bought things for her. I paid for food, gave her gas money, and I even sometimes would splurge on something she had her eye on. Like. A figure or a toy. She had bills and I didn't, so I had the spending money for it. Because I had to make sure that I wasn't going to say goodbye again.

But we did. It was messy. She called me a petty bitch. I don't even remember everything. I just know that I was alone again. Secluded. Isolated. I had nobody. Nine years of friendship and the void was bigger now.

I was desperate to keep finding people. I kept surrounding myself with groups. Getting deeply involved in fandoms in an attempt to connect with people. I leaned heavily on people emotionally, especially if they got closer to me and interacted with me more. People who did anything for me, I would cling to immediately. I wanted to do everything with people who spent time with me. I became addicted to attention.

And that addiction is why I'm in this mess today. It's true that I have managed to surround myself with genuine people who love me, but sometimes something bad lurks about. Especially in a place full of mentally ill people.

#long post #inside my head #about me #life story #this is a heavily abrisged version #i didnt go into detail about my dad not being able to let me do my own shit #how i tried to branch out and make more friends during my college time #i had anime nights with the sometimes and i would get so into it that i would lose track of time #this made him very angry one time #i hadnt checked in with him every hour and it made him worry #and because of not calling him he called me and told me to come home #keep in mind i am a full grown adult #but somehow I had it in my mind that i had no choice but to be obedient #ive never been in a particularly healthy environment #honestly the only reason i feel less controlled now is because he has himself an obedient wife #but even now he still tries to sway me away from being true to myself #and tries to make me into his version of myself

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kph-01 · 4 years ago

Text

Diary of KPH-01 (part 4)

The interview

//Log

We reached Amargo Base in a few hours, the vehicle stopped inside an empty garage, there was no one to greet us and soon I learnt why.

The garage door closed and all the humans inside the vehicle stepped out, a large mirror in the wall turned transparent revealing the presance of four other humans in lab coats, presumably scientists or researchers.

"We are sorry for the inconvenience but we have to make sure you're not carrying dangerous pathogens or radiation. Please stand by"

A team of humans in hazmat walked in from a door next to the window, a few were carrying large devices, a closer inspection revealed them to be Geiger counters, gas detectors and others.

"Clear"

The researchers on the other side of the glass panel sighed in relief and used the speaker to communicate again

"We'll conduct other tests but for now you're free to enter, however decontamination is still required"

The hazmat team lead me and the other humans through the door they came from and sealed once we were all inside, an aerosol of chemicals was released at high pressure, the temperature rose by 5 degrees. The whole decontamination procedure lasted for a minute before we were allowed to enter the structure. The walls and the ceiling were white while the floor was tinted gray, as we walked we passed in front of several doors leading to other parts of the laboratory, Lieutenant Rodriguez remained next to me the whole time until we were accommodated in a waiting room, two humans in lab coats greeted me, a male and a female human.

"Greetings visitor from the stars! I'm Joseph Hughes, director of this research centre!"

He saluted me showing his hand, it was different from what I had seen and all other humans looked at him disdained.

"Director I doubt they are Vulcan..."

The female standing next to him whispered in the Directors ears.

"Whatever, whatever, this is a joyous day! Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Cola?"

The director was fawning over me and staring at my frame with morbid interest.

"No thank you, I do not need to drink and I couldn't even if I wanted to"

"Ah what a shame, please write that down Asami"

"Yes director"

The human female nodded and started taking notes on a clipboard. The director started circling around me

"Should we be aware of anything? Do you require anything to stay comfortable? Oxygen? Nitrogen? Water? Light?"

My opinion on the director was slightly altered as he showed genuine care for my well being.

"No director, my frame can function in outer space and in complete darkness, the only thing I'd need is to fix my telemetry and communication apparatus"

"ASAMI quick pull out the camera! Can we assist you in any way?"

Asami, reached for one of the pockets in the coat and took out a small camera, starting to film us.

"It would normally require me to connect to UniMatrix but I'm currently disconnected... I require a computer..."

The director gestured me to wait a second before dashing out of the room almost tripping on the door frame, he came back with a laptop and followed by another researcher who appeared to be quite altered

" I NEED THAT!! "

He shouted at the director while he ignored it.

"Here use this"

He presented me the laptop, breathing havely. The other researcher stood still staring at my with his mouth agape, curious.

I took the laptop and inspected it, the fastest way to share data was to use the USB port so I proceeded to grow an USB cable from my hand, connecting to the port in a quiet click. Soon the people in the room gasped in surprise, was I not supposed to do it? They aren't stopping me and Asami is still filming.

I transferred part of my internals inside the computer and modified the note pad program to be able to read my data.

Errors, errors everywhere. My internal code is garbled and nonsensical just like I predicted, the impact must've sent an electromagnetic pulse through my system. I delete everything and replaced it with what was supposed to be, writing it by hand on the keyboard.

I uploaded the file back to my system and my communication link was promptly restored.

"I am no more a unit, I am we. We are part of UniMatrix"

The humans around me held their breath while we gave the laptop back to the director. A massive flow of data was sent us by UniMatrix and we replied back with all the informations gathered. Within a second we were updated, our body frame is now resistant to electromagnetic pulses, ballistic weapons, explosions and hacking.

The director was shaking and so was Asami, they stared at the computer screen reading the file I wrote.

"What is this? code? You are machines??"

"correction director, we are a hivemind entity, our physical form is determined by the conditions of the environment, we are modeled after a human body due to its versatility in this ecosystem, as well as to ease your perception of danger."

After our statement nobody dared to talk, Asami had stopped filming and was looking at the director for instructions.

" THIS IS MAGNIFICENT! EXTRAORDINARY! TERRIFIC! "

Director Hughes exploded in a display of euphoria. His brain was flooded by chemicals and adrenaline.

"ASAMI QUICK CALL EVERYONE!"

"everyone director? What do you mean..?"

"Oh Asami I mean everyone! NASA, SETI, the secretary of state, the CIA, all of them, we need to start diplomatic relationships as soon as possible!"

Colonel Miller stepped in and pulled the director aside, they had a brief discussion and they both came back a little less euphoric.

" We won't call NASA, not until our diplomatic relationship are established. "

We and UniMatrix were amused by the reaction of humans, secrecy again, something so odd from our point of view.

"Tomorrow we'll have a conference with the representatives of their agencies, for now we're forbidden to ask any more questions, someone please lead them to a guestroom and provide them whatever they need and we are allowed to. We'll see again tomorrow!"

The director stated before leaving the room, the soldiers were looking at Colonel Miller, what he said was probably the cause of the mood drop

" This way please "

Asami slime and led us to a guestroom, a simple two room apartment with a bathroom and a bedroom, nothing else. We don't require sleep but we appreciate the free time, we'll be in contact with UniMatrix.

"Goodnight"

Asami waved and closed the door behind her after leaving, we were left alone by humans, we could explore the internet to our will.

Joseph Hughes, human male, light skin tone, old age, long curly Grey hair, light body, wear glasses to correct vision deficiency. Director of the laboratory inside Amargo Base.

Yoshida Asami (Last name, name) female human, Asian skin tone, long straight black hair. Director's assistant.

#humans are aliens #humans are weird #humans in space #science fiction

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