#Part of a machine. Not a human being. Face all made up living on a screen
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signofthestriking · 7 months ago
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Me at the thought of a disheveled Jack dancing to Gasoline at 3am
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fridgrave2-0 · 3 months ago
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me: I hate turbo he is just a freak and a loser and a jerk and-
my brain: and he's "gasoline by halsey" kinnie
me: and he's "gasoline-" NOOOOOO
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x-ladydisdain-x · 2 years ago
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really returning to my roots (middle school) here but Halsey was so real for writing this
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azucar-skull · 27 days ago
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*gasoline by halsey intensifies*
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Sad Robot P1 | P2
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bunnis-monsters · 1 month ago
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The mating bond of a prince
Yandere!Demon Prince x Fem!Reader
Bunni’s Monstertober Event
Oct 17th
Oct 16
Oct 18
summary:
warning: dubcon, kind of angsty, breeding, mating, marking, possessive and obsessive behavior
a/n: I wanna do more with this concept, but here’s a snippet for monstertober because I’m behind ><
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Demons were said to be cruel creatures incapable of love or empathy, soulless beings that fed on fear and misery… and for the most part, that was true.
But what humans didn’t know about demons was one simple fact. There is only one person that they will ever love and care for…
Their mate.
Every demon was born into the world with one thought in their mind.
To find their mate.
Soon, other thoughts would pop up from time to time. They had to eat to continue the search for their mate, tear down humans cities to help their species thrive so their mate would have a comfortable place to live once they found them.
If they didn’t fight to end human civilization, where would their mates live and raise young? Taking their beloved back to hell with them was out of the question!
This was how the demon king managed to help demon numbers increase and keep his army growing. If each demon was born with the urge to procreate and create a good nesting ground for their mate, they could be easily controlled.
He just hadn’t expected his son, the prince of hell to be bound to a human.
The prince had recently conquered a small village. As he went about killing the men, his entire body began to throb.
In the distance, he smelled something that had his head spinning. One of the small cottages was on fire, that heavenly scent coming from inside.
He felt his body being pulled towards it, so he completely ignored the humans attempting to kill him and walked towards the cottage.
Breaking down the door was easy, but being enveloped in your overwhelming scent made it hard to think.
The second he saw you, injured and barely confused as a fellow demon stood over your fragile, human body, he felt something he had never felt before.
Protective.
Within seconds he was shirking your body, his claw drenched in the demons blood from ripping his throat out. Why was he doing this? You were just some human woman, but his soul was bound to you.
He couldn’t let you die.
When you woke up, you were somewhere strange… some sort of contraption beeped next to you, the beeps increasing in frequency as you sat up and looked around… only to spot a demon by your bed.
All you felt was pure terror.
You stared at the creature whose specifies was responsible for the deaths of so many of your friends and family, who killed innocents in cold blood. Tears streamed down your face as you tried to speak.
“Please… let me go…”
But when the prince looked into your eyes for the first time, his body felt like it had been set on fire.
He loved you, and you were his mate.
Not once in his life had he ever looked upon another creature with such fondness and care. The prince made his way to your bed, kneeling by your side and taking your hand.
“My love… oh, my darling do not fear… here you are safe, you’ll be treasured for all eternity…”
He kissed the back of your hand, your gut burning with anger and shame. This thing had taken you as some sort of… bride?
“W-what about my family?”
The words finally came out after a few days in the hospital. In this time, you learned that demon society was far ahead of the human one, with machines that could monitor your heart rate and medicines that kept you from being in pain.
It was… comfortable.
He looked up at you, his eyes dark and cold. “What about them? They are humans, they will be culled like the rest.”
You clutched your blanket in your fists, your eyes welling up with tears. Something about you crying made his chest ache, and the prince reached out to caress your cheek.
“Why do you cry? Are you not comfortable?”
The demon could not comprehend your feelings towards your loved ones. He simply saw them as pests that needed to be eradicated, and could only feel love for you, his mate.
“They’re my family, I love them!”
Your sudden exclamation had him raising an eyebrow, his tail twitching. Were they really that important?
The prince knew that every human from your village was already dead, there was no way your family had survived. But to placate his mate, he wrapped his tail around you, using his soft black wings to encircle you and bring you close.
“I’ll have my men escort them somewhere safe. You may not see them, but they will live.”
This lie made you relax, and you settled into his arms. You felt like you could finally rest, and slept like a baby for the first time since you had been taken away.
The prince wanted to take things slow, but news that his mate had turned out to be a human woman spread through the kingdom until it reached his father.
He was called in to meet with the King, who was displeased, but mildly amused.
“I hear you’ve taken on a human mate, my son. You know how the royal court will react.”
The prince nodded, standing tall and confident in front of his father. “I am prepared to defend my mate to my dying breath, as would any demon.”
“That’s all well and good, but a human mate is an eyesore. You should hurry up and get her pregnant, there will be less danger once an heir is produced.”
Everyone knew that demon blood was powerful, being the dominant trait in every pairing. Once she was pregnant with the heir to the throne, not a single creature would dare to touch her.
It had only been a week since you had been home from the hospital, staying with the demon prince when suddenly approached you.
“My love…”
His lips peppered across your neck, hands holding onto your waist before sliding to your hips. “I wanted to wait… to give you time to adjust…”
You froze when his tail moved between your legs, rubbing against your clothed cunt. “But this is the only way to keep you safe… please, don’t be afraid… I’ll be gentle.”
The pieces slowly came together as his tail played with your cunt, rubbing against your panties before slipping under them and toying with your clit.
His hand was on your belly, eyes darting between your face and thighs. The way he moved his hand around your stomach…
He was going to breed you.
You squirmed for a bit, letting out an uncomfortable whine, but settled down when his clawed hand danced across your chest, groping one of your breasts as his face buried itself into your neck.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, love… this life is comfortable, isn’t it? I can give you a life of peace and safety, where you don’t have to fear war or pain. You’ll be taken care of.”
The very thought of some human male touching his lover made a growl rumble in his chest. You’d be staying with him, that wasn’t an option… but he wanted it to be something you chose yourself.
It felt sinful feeling wet from the demon playing with your fat pussy. His fingers pumped in and out of your as the tip of his tail continued to stimulate your clit, your juices flowing down your thighs.
He said your family was safe… was it so bad to let this demon take you as his mate? You were tired of long nights full of screams from people running from demons, of days without a proper meal as you rationed your supplies so you wouldn’t have to leave your home.
Couldn’t you live a comfortable life? You’ve suffered enough…
So you let him pin you down, watching as his fat cock rubbed against your leg. You had never seen a man naked before, so you were unsure if the size was normal… but you knew it had to be bigger than average.
His wings fluttered as his cock rested against your thigh. It nudges you, his tail lifting from your cunt to your tits, playing with them.
“I love you… more than you could ever imagine. You never have to want for anything again. I’ll give you everything…”
The pain of him taking your virginity made you cry out, your nails digging into his forearm. It didn’t hurt him at all, and he simply cooed, his wings soft as he dried his best to comfort you.
“Shh… shh… oh, my love I know it hurts. It won’t be for long…”
His lips pressed against your forehead, sweat already beading down. It wasn’t easy trying to take something so large inside of you for the first time…
The second you eased into it a bit, he pulled back out and slammed into you. He hadn’t meant to be rough, but he had struggled to control his urge to breed you from the second he realized you were his mate.
“I love you…” he murmured, gripping your hips as he fucked you, his teeth lightly gracing your neck. He wanted to cover you in bites and hickeys, claiming you completely.
He wasn’t done with you until your belly bulged with his cum. You smelled so much like him that he was a sappy mess.
You were exhausted, sore, and in need of a bath… but your demon mate curled around you protectively, kissing all over your body.
Within a month you were confirmed to be pregnant, and were moved into the palace as a princess.
You’d live a life of comfort… but were practically betraying your species by baring the future demon prince.
The current demon prince would soon be king, and you his queen.
An honor and the biggest shame.
———————
NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat
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geekgirl-1717 · 5 months ago
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Cuddling with... One Piece Characters!
Part 2 (Franky, Nami, Robin, Ace, Sabo, Shanks)
TW: Non-sexual nudity for Robin's part and slightly suggestive jokes for Shanks' part, but otherwise SFW. Gender-neutral reader, no use of (y/n)
I kinda got carried away so some of this is just how they express affection in general ? But also there's cuddling too lol
How (more) One Piece characters would cuddle with you!
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Franky: At the beginning of your relationship, he’s a little hesitant to cuddle with you. He’s much larger than you, not to mention that most of him is made of metal, which makes him worry. What if he accidentally hurts you? Is his body too hard or cold to cuddle you “properly?” But with enough reassurance, you’ll turn Franky into a cuddle machine! Due to his sheer size, he usually ends up spooning you or holding you in some way, like against his chest, but he will never turn down a chance to be the little spoon. This man is absolutely shameless in everything he does so he has no qualms about cuddling in front of others either.
Sleep was a precious luxury when sailing the seas. Getting a proper rest each night was never guaranteed, as any number of threats could have you springing out of bed and into the heat of battle at a moment’s notice.
It was a perfectly calm night. No freak weather incidents, no resonate booms of cannonfire, no stomps or shouts from your lively crew. Even better, you were curled up in the embrace of your boyfriend. You laid against his sturdy chest, his massive hands engulfing nearly your entire body.
Which only made it all the more frustrating when you couldn’t fall asleep.
You suppressed the urge to let out a groan, instead directing your gaze up towards Franky. His eyes were closed, but his breathing was somewhat shallow, leading you to believe he may not have been asleep either. You decided to take your chances.
“Hey Franky, are you awake?”
You whispered softly, absentmindedly tracing your finger across his collarbone.
His eyes didn’t open, but a large thumb started stroking up and down your back.
“Yeah. Can’t sleep either, baby?”
You let out a hum in affirmation. Franky slowly opened his eyes, flashing you a sleepy grin, one that you happily returned.
You both remained like that for a while, basking in the silence and each other’s love-stricken gazes. Finally, you spoke up.
“Can we switch? Wanna hold you.”
Franky chuckled, jostling you slightly from your position on top of him.
“Of course, baby. Whatever you want.”
He gently slid you off his chest, shifting so that he was laying on his side. You wrapped your arms around his waist, smushing your face into his broad back.
You never minded that your boyfriend was a cyborg, but you secretly loved moments like this. His back was so warm and soft compared to the rest of his metal body, and you couldn’t help but snuggle deeper into him.
Franky was enjoying himself just as much as you were. Franky was someone that radiated confidence from his very being, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t ever worry about how you perceived his unusual body. Feeling your warm breath fanning across his spine, your hair tickling his skin, the sensation of you pressing into the more sensitive flesh of his back, made him feel truly human again.
A large, imposing, audacious cyborg being spooned by his lover, whose arms could barely reach around the length of his body, would be a ridiculous sight for anyone else to behold. But the two of you were in absolute bliss, your prior sleeplessness forgotten as you both drifted into a peaceful slumber.
Nami: She loves to cuddle with the both of you facing each other, especially when you’re sleeping together. There’s been too many times in her life where she’s woken up alone, away from anything that’s ever felt familiar to her. Now, you’re the first thing she sees when she opens her eyes, reminding her that everything's real, that she’s safe now. She also likes any cuddling position where you’re holding her, whether she’s sitting in your lap, being the little spoon, or laying against your chest. She views cuddling as something more intimate and vulnerable, so she prefers to have it happen in private.
Sunlight slowly began to filter through the little porthole, scattering sunbeams across the room.
Nami was roused from her sleep as the offendingly bright light hit her eyes. She frowned in discomfort initially, wishing she could have gotten a few more precious hours of sleep. But as her vision adjusted and she took in the sight before her, her heart softened.
You, still slumbering peacefully. Your hair was a little mussed from sleep, your mouth hung open slightly as you breathed deeply, and your sleepwear was ruffled and wrinkled. But to Nami, you were the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid eyes on, more precious than any treasure she could dream of.
Your arms were wrapped around Nami’s waist, but she pulled back slightly from your grasp so she could get a better view of you. Unable to help herself, she reached out to brush her hand softly across your cheek, almost as if to affirm she wasn’t still dreaming.
The action stirred you from your sleep, but just you smiled and leaned into Nami’s touch.
“Good morning, love.”
Your voice was a bit raspy, but it was music to Nami’s ears.
“Good morning to you, too. Sorry for waking you.”
You shook your head, your eyes finally fluttering open.
“It’s okay.”
You pulled Nami closer to you, placing a kiss on her temple and resting your chin on the top of her head. She eagerly snuggled into your embrace, her arms coming to circle around your waist as well.
“Wanna just go back to sleep?”
You asked softly.
You weren’t quite ready to leave the warm comfort of your and Nami’s shared bed. Luckily, Nami seemed to feel the same way. She merely nodded in response, already drifting back to sleep.
This little routine of yours has become so normal, so mundane, and yet Nami cherishes every morning she wakes up next to you like it’s the first. To hold and be held by you reminds her that she’s finally escaped the horrors of her past, that she’s living out the dreams she’s had since she was a young child, and that she gets to do it all with you. And that’s worth more than anything money could buy.
Robin: Hold this woman. Please. You would think her Devil Fruit powers would make her the perfect big spoon, and of course if you want to be held by her, she would be more than happy to indulge you. But please make sure you hold her, too. She’s desperately craving the comfort and intimacy. However, it’s difficult for her to vocalize her needs and as such, you’ll have to initiate the majority of cuddling. A very common way you cuddle is Robin sitting in your lap leaning back into your chest while she reads, making sure to turn the pages slowly so you can read over her shoulder. Another private cuddler for the most part, but wouldn’t mind small displays of affection like leaning your head onto her shoulder.
“Darling, I’m going to take a bath. Would you like to join?”
Robin peeked her head into the room where you had been laying in your bed. You had been on the verge of taking a nap, but practically jumped at the opportunity to spend time with your girlfriend.
“Sure! Let me just grab a few things.”
You grabbed a change of clothes and some toiletries before taking Robin’s hand and letting her lead you across the ship.
When you and Robin first started dating, intimacy and vulnerability was something she struggled with. She had learned to live without much affection from a very young age, so she wasn’t used to giving or receiving it.
But you were patient and understanding, giving Robin all the time that she needed. Now, you both treasured the small moments of closeness you were able to carve out amidst your tumultuous lives as pirates.
Bathing together had quickly become one of your favorite ways to spend time with each other. Even when you two would try to read together in the aquarium bar or share a cup of tea on the deck, it was never a guarantee your peaceful moments wouldn’t be disturbed by one of your crewmates, and Robin was not one to indulge in PDA. Aside from sleeping together at night, taking a bath was the only way the two of you could cuddle without interruption.
After rinsing yourselves under the showerheads first and drawing a warm bath for yourselves, you settled into the water first, leaning back against the rim of the tub. Robin climbed in shortly after, resting her back against your chest. She let out a deep sigh, the tension practically melting off of her shoulders.
Although to anyone else it seemed that Robin was always calm and composed, as her lover you knew that she often kept her guard up, not allowing herself to be fully vulnerable. But alone with you, she was granted a rare moment to truly relax.
Wordlessly, you went about your usual routine, reaching for bottles of shampoo and conditioner and a bar of soap. You laughed softly to yourself when you recalled the first time you asked Robin to do this with you.
“Take a bath… together? My, you’re being rather bold today, aren’t you?”
She had teased, making your face heat up as you realized the implications of your words.
“N-no, nothing like that! I mean, not that I don’t want that- but I just thought, maybe uh- you’d want someone to help wash your back?”
You fumbled for any excuse you could think of. Truly, you had just wanted an excuse to spend more time with her. Neither of you brought up the fact that Robin could easily wash her own back with the help of her Devil Fruit ability, and to this day that fact remained unacknowledged.
You started with Robin’s hair, gently massaging shampoo into her scalp and brushing conditioner through the ends of her long, dark tresses. Then, you moved to wash her back, though you eventually devolved to just massaging the tense muscles. You couldn’t help but place soft kisses on her bare shoulders and neck from time to time, and Robin’s heart fluttered with each gentle press of your lips to her skin.
Even as the water grew tepid and your skin began to prune, you both remained in the bath. Your arms had found their way around Robin’s waist, her hands coming to settle on top of your own.
“Love you.”
You mumbled into her skin, finally breaking the peaceful silence. Robin turned her head to rest her face in the crook of your neck.
“Love you more, darling. Thank you.”
Ace: Not unlike his younger brother, Ace loves cuddling and physical affection. If you say you want to cuddle, he’ll drop whatever he’s doing and have you in his arms in a heartbeat. The rest of the Whitebeard pirates tease him for the way you have the infamous “Fire-Fist” wrapped around your finger, but neither of you are bothered by their words. He likes to have you resting against his side or chest, but also loves laying his head in your lap. Run your fingers through his hair and he’s a goner. When he falls into one of his sudden sleeping fits, you’re always there to lay him against your shoulder or across your lap.
The Moby Dick was as lively as ever, with alcohol flowing endlessly and the sound of drunken laughter and sea shanties filling the night air.
As much as you loved indulging in the festivities, it could get a bit overwhelming at times.
You had snuck away from the party a few minutes ago, making your way to the ship’s stern. You could still hear the ruckus of your crewmates, but it was much more muted now. You were sitting with your back against the ship’s railing, letting the sound of crashing waves soothe your senses. At first, the cool breeze felt refreshing on your flushed cheeks, as you were still a bit drunk yourself, but soon you felt a shiver wrack your spine.
“Hey sweetheart, you alright?”
Perfect timing.
You opened your eyes with a smile, instantly recognizing Ace’s voice.
“Mhm, I’m good. Just need a little breather.”
Ace made his way over to you, plopping down beside you and slinging an arm around your shoulder. You instinctively snuggled into him, resting your head against his chest. Despite his lack of shirt and the chill of the evening air, Ace’s skin was almost hot to the touch. Thanks to his Devil Fruit, your boyfriend often acted as your personal space heater, a role he was happy to take on.
You let out a contented sigh as you warmed up in Ace’s embrace. He let out a chuckle and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.
“Comfortable?”
He teased. You looked up at him, your smile never having left your face.
“Very. You’re really hot, you know?”
You said with a wink. Ace laughed out loud this time. He tried to put on a suave smirk, but you could see a hint of blush across his freckled cheeks.
“Oh, I know sweetheart.”
You both giggled at this, grinning at each other like two idiots in love. You eventually settled into a comfortable silence, Ace’s arm never leaving your shoulder. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you eventually felt Ace rest his head on top of yours.
The music and laughter continued in the background, and as much as you delighted in Ace’s presence, you didn’t want to keep him from the fun.
“Ace, honey, you can go back to the party if you want. I’ll come join you guys again soon.”
First, there was only silence. Then, Ace let out a snore above you.
You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself again. Of course, he has fallen asleep. Whether it was due to his narcolepsy or the exhaustion of drinking and partying, you weren’t sure. But you always cherished the moments when Ace would fall asleep on you.
Gently, you shifted Ace so that his head was now in your lap. You removed his hat and placed it on his chest so you could run your fingers through his dark locks.
From this position, you had a perfect view to admire Ace’s features. The way his bangs fell on his forehead, the constellation of freckles across his cheeks, the soft smile he wore even while he was sleeping.
Your back would surely start to ache from sitting against the railing, and your legs would probably end up falling asleep from Ace’s weight on them, but seeing Ace so at peace in your embrace made it all worth it.
Sabo: The ASL brothers just love to cuddle, what can I say? This man would hold you like a giant stuffed animal and refuse to let you go until he says so. The chaotic and uncertain life of a revolutionary means time to cuddle is exceedingly rare, so any opportunity you two can get is savored. Ultimately, Sabo’s not picky on how you guys cuddle, but he would favor arrangements that let him put his face in your hair. He finds your scent so comforting, especially after a difficult day.
Your eyes slowly cracked open as you awoke from your slumber. The room was silent and the sun hadn’t even begun to peak over the horizon yet, but your body knew instinctively it was time to wake up.
The life of a revolutionary was exhausting in many ways, but the hope of creating a better, more just world was enough to pull you out of bed each day to endure whatever grueling training or expedition was planned.
That, and knowing that every new sunrise meant another day of waking up with the love of your life. It was a precious gift, especially given the dangerous nature of a revolutionary's life. You loved Sabo, and he loved you, but it was only under the gentle spell of sleep, away from the terrors and turmoils of war, that you two could fully bask in each other’s comfort.
The object of your affections was currently still fast asleep, his arms draped loosely around your waist with his face pressed into your hair, lulled into slumber by your familiar scent. You wiggled in his grasp, turning so the two of you were face to face.
You always loved waking up before Sabo so you could steal a few brief moments to admire him. The only time you saw the young Chief of Staff truly at peace was asleep in the safety and comfort of your shared bed. You could never resist reaching a hand out to gently trace along his scar, a sight you found both saddening and beautiful at the same time.
You spared one last glance at your boyfriend before you rolled over again, shifting towards the side of the bed so you could get up and start preparing for the day.
You had barely moved an inch before the grip around your waist tightened, a strong pair of arms yanking you backwards. Sabo’s hold on you remained firm as he slung a leg over yours and buried his head into your shoulder, his whole body almost enveloping yours.
You huffed, but you couldn’t fight the grin tugging at the corners of your lips. You gave a half-hearted wiggle, pretending like you were trying to escape Sabo’s grasp when really you wanted nothing more than to fall back to sleep in his embrace.
“Sabo, love, we have to get up.”
Sabo only shook his head in response, his blonde hair tickling your bare skin. He wound his arms around you even tighter, almost squeezing the breath out of your lungs. Sabo snuggled into you like a child clinging to their beloved teddy bear.
“Jus’ a few more minutes.”
He mumbled, not even bothering to open his eyes.
And who were you to deny him?
Shanks: Believe it or not, he’s actually a little hesitant to cuddle or hold you at the beginning of your relationship. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be close to you, but age-old insecurities about his arm arise when you first get together. However, with lots of communication, reassurance, and love, you’ll turn Shanks into a cuddle fiend. He likes having you in his lap or resting against his chest. We know this man is shameless, so get ready for a lot of PDA. Shanks likes drinking, and he likes having you sit in his lap, so having you sit in his lap while drinking? Perfect! You’re in a public tavern with tons of people around? No worries!
“Shanks, honey, you gotta help me out here.”
Your voice was exasperated and strained as you struggled to keep both yourself and your intoxicated husband upright. Said husband was seemingly unaware of your plight, swaying to and fro with each clumsy step, leaning his full weight into where his arm was slung around your shoulder.
You nearly toppled over as Shanks leaned in to press a sloppy kiss against your cheek, laughing jovially as he did.
“I love you too, honey!”
You couldn’t help but smile along with him, your heart fluttering at such a genuine display of affection in spite of your previous annoyance.
After a somewhat perilous trek, you finally made it back to the Red Force with you and your husband thankfully unscathed. You gently guided Shanks to sit on your shared bed in the captain’s quarters, taking a moment to catch your breath. By this point, your clothes and hair had become disheveled and you could feel a thin layer of sweat accumulating from the effort it took to haul Shanks back to the ship. This, however, did nothing to deter your husband, who was currently gazing at you with such raw devotion and tenderness in his eyes that it made you falter.
You blushed and shyly turned your head away from Shanks, which only made him chuckle again. Despite having been married for years, he had the ability to feel like you were falling in love with him all over again.
You sifted through the dresser near the bed, pulling out a set of sleepwear for the both of you. As you approached Shanks, the heavy smell of alcohol lingered in the air, making you scrunch your nose up. He really needed a shower, and so did you to be honest, but you shuddered at the thought of washing him in this state. You had barely made it to the ship in one piece, but trying to keep Shanks upright on a wet, slippery floor sounded like a disaster waiting to happen.
I’ll just wash the sheets tomorrow.
You conceded, moving to discard your current outfit in favor of more comfortable pajamas. You turned your head back to see Shanks gaping at you. He looked almost sheepish, as though he were witnessing something he shouldn’t be despite having seen you in various states of undress more times than he could count, and now it was your turn to giggle at his flustered state.
Once you had finished changing, you moved on to your husband, grabbing the hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head. He complied easily, his abashed expression quickly being replaced by a smug grin.
“Oh? Just can’t keep your hands off me can you, sweetheart?”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you tugged a nightshirt over Shanks’ head. Ignoring his suggestive smirk and wiggling eyebrows, you moved on to tugging off his shoes and pants. Shanks gave a teasing, low whistle in response.
“Wow, gettin’ right to business, are we? Not sure why you put my shirt back on, but I guess we can make it work-“
He was cut off by you flinging his pajama pants at his face. You could hear his muffled chuckles through the fabric.
“Put your pants on, pervert. We’re going to bed.”
“Again, not sure why I need my pants then-“
“To sleep, Shanks. We’re going to sleep.”
It wasn’t long before the two of you settled into bed. Even in his tipsy state, Shanks’ arm instinctively reached out to wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest where you belonged. For all his eagerness earlier, Shanks seemed to fall asleep almost instantly, but not before murmuring sweetly in your ear.
“G’night baby, I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
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diejager · 1 year ago
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BEGGING I WAS LEFT ON A CLIFFHANGER FOT THE MONSTER AU 141 😭😭😭😭😭
pretty pretty please 🙏🙏
Only Human pt.2
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Pairing: Monster Task Force 141 + König & Horangi x reader
Cw: canon-typical violence, hate, xenophobia, mention of racism, blood and violence, injury, fighting, protective 141, trauma?, anxiety, tell me if I missed any. wc: 6.3k
Only Human Masterlist
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You still wonder, to this day, why you were needed on the Task Force. It worked like a well-oiled machine when put to the task, nearly unstoppable in the face of enemies. Although you were prideful to call it your home, you felt lacking compared to them, all much stronger, fiercer, and nimbler than you in every aspect, separated by miles of distance. One thing, however, that you could wield with an iron fist was your human nature and people’s fear of newly implemented hybrids. The public expression from governments about welcoming them into their ranks and their society without staying hidden under the pretence of being sick or behind a veil of secrecy. 
You, after seeing how many Joint Task Forces and other Teams treated the 141, decided to deal with the introductions, the medium, the pacifier, between every team. Humans tended to react differently to another human than to a hybrid, they were nicer, less brutal and honest (a kind that held little spite). Laswell seemed more agreeable to your idea when you first came up to her with it, having seen the hate sent to hybrids she worked with. She encouraged you to be the first to interact or stand beside Price when he greeted human soldiers. Price, unlike Laswell, was reluctant at first. His instinct of protection and possession of his hoard made him less open to such ideas, especially if it brought you some, if any, backlash from other humans (humans are cruel, they shun what they don’t understand, they fear it and push to control it, if not, they destroy it. The need to control every aspect of their life made humans ruthlessly unremorseful and unsympathetic to other causes.).
As a tight-knit TF, some decisions are taken in votes, by hearing what the others thought of the idea or plan and his one was harsh. Ghost was hard-pressed on keeping you between them, the little, fleshy human of their Task Force (the youngest) and to let them deal with xenophobic glares while keeping you protected. Alejandro was similarly worried, but he knew the outcome of letting you speak first or accompany Price. He was torn. The others, Soap, Gaz and Rudy, seemed onboard, with the kind of why the fuck not? kind of look on their faces. Soap especially, he’d be able to stick close to you without having to hover over you like a protective guard dog. 
Seeing the votes in your favour, he let it pass, and no sooner had they needed to meet a second team - human soldiers - for the next deployment. You stood beside Price when he strutted down the walkway, shoulders broad and back straight, an image of a strong and fearless leader with his draconic tail flailing lowly. He, as intended, greeted them first, rank and name before he presented you, his little human helper with humans. They’d taken better to speaking to you, being spoken by one of their own rather than a hybrid. He saluted you more amicably and more sincerely:
“Pleasure meeting you, Hunter.”
“The pleasure’s all mine, Captain.”
Although it wasn't without its setbacks, the operation went well, you had been able to come out mostly unscathed, leaving a few enemies on the brink of death for Ghost to savour. He was most thankful, a part of his body dissolving into the finest mist as they washed over the living bodies sprawled on the ground. You watched on, mesmerised by the uncanny way Ghost’s body absorbed the bodies of others, flooding the area with his shadow while you stayed unbothered, in the same condition as he first started. His darkness reached your neck, covering you in a soft cover of warmth as he ground the bodies to ash and dust. His skin was cold, but his powers were darkly hot, burning with the embers of hell, of a dead soul coming back for revenge and evilness.
Beyond the fact that your idea worked, you liked feeling useful to them, having a semblance of usefulness in a team of extremely competent beings. You felt with first greetings from then on, smiling and saluting to the leading figures of the groups you’d work alongside. It lessened the weight on Price to appease and pacify the new additions, he’d be able to fare better with the operators now that they had a different welcome, a different kind of greeting. It played into the minds of wary men that a human was the one to greet them, that one of theirs was leading the hybrids for them. You played the perfect example of a soldier for any xenophobic bastard. 
Ghost, while still feared, received fewer glares than he usually would, occasional ones from daring or bold soldiers holding a lower rank than him, but he appreciated your attempts at making them more comfortable. He’s used to the negative reactions, had been since his childhood, but you seemed to make him feel like he deserved better, like he shouldn’t be glared, spat and scoffed at.
Soap, Rudy and Alejandro looked like human men in peak condition, if only for Soap and Alejandro’s glowing eyes and heightened strength and agility. Rudy was somewhat human, he looked and acted like one, down to the DNA, but with the title of cadejos vessel came powers. Perhaps not as strongly affecting as the rest of the hybrids, but he had subtle changes in his molecular making. 
Gaz had stares coming left and right, daggers sent his way for having wings and talons he couldn’t will them to disappear, to recess under his skin and wear the appearance of a human man. He felt the heaviest blow by both not being able to cover his gifts and the colour of his skin. Although you wanted to proclaim that your new age came with more open-minded people, you knew that it simply couldn’t fix hundreds of years of standards in a few decades. People would still judge others by the tone and colour of your skin, they’d still hate the different and the strange; just like they hated hybrids. So you kept to his side most often after your introductions, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close, letting him embrace you with a protective wing and a grateful smile.
You mostly worked hand in hand with human-filled teams and spear-headed human-led operations. So you were shocked, frozen to your core, when you saw a tiger haetae hybrid beside a tall, veiled operator walking down the cargo ramp. The hybrid, a tiger variant from the black-striped, orange tail that flickered slowly in a warning to any approaching beings. Dark glasses and a mask covered his face, his jacket and vest riding to the edge of his jaw, covering any skin from showing, though his lower back was left uncovered for the comfort of his swaying tail. He was neither short nor tall, he was tall enough to be slightly over the average height, but his teammate dwarfed him.
Perhaps his enormous height was an aspect of his monster half, or maybe he had the perfect genes to hold such a frame. He too, like his haetae operator, hid his face under a veil with maroon tears painted under his eyes. Like Ghost, he was covered head to toe in equipment and clothes, a jacket, a vest, gloves and black paint around his eyes. Whoever this was had both height and mass, burly arms and broad shoulders eclipsed by a slim waist and equally, disastrously thick thighs. On their left arm were flags, one from South Korea and the other from Austria.
They were the only ones to walk out, the only ones to approach you. Then your TF only had two new faces to work with rather than a whole team. You were tempted to say it would be easier, you waited until they stopped for Price - Price only - to greet them since they wouldn’t need a human to negate any aggressiveness between human and hybrid - or so you thought. They moved in synchrony, Price stepping forward to cover you with his body, his back facing you as he crossed his arms. Ghost and Alejandro had moved next to the captain, covering your sides. Alejandro had crossed his arm in a similarly menacing way, and Ghost stood still, body rigid but ready to strike at a moment’s notice; both were glaring ahead. Soap and Rudy took their places behind the colonel and the lieutenant, arms glued on their sides, weapons within reach with menacing stares towards the Korean and the Austrian. Gaz’s wings grazed you, soft feathers wrapping themselves around you and pulling you into his chest, acting as a protective cocoon for you. 
“What-?”
They moved so quickly and efficiently that they seemed to suddenly appear in place, back straight and protective. Protective of you. Hybrids, from what you’d heard from couples and families, were possessive of their own, caring and extremely wary of other hybrids they hadn’t formed a bond with. Your TF was your pack, they were all tethered to each other through the familial bond they formed over the years. Then you came in, small and weak with your human self into a den of lions, thrown to be subjugated to their loving mercy and sinfully strong personalities. 
The team of six hybrids encased you, barring the KorTac specialists from seeing you. Monsters and hybrids could sense one another - from what you heard - and they reacted instinctively. You saw their bodies tense as the two approached your team, muscles strained under the compacting anxiety and possessiveness. You could neither see over their shoulders nor feel what was happening, they stopped farther from you than you’d expected and you couldn’t see their feet. 
The only sign you had was your captain’s gravelly voice welcoming them, his tail swaying like a cat’s tail, a slow, cautious motion. It - knowingly or unknowingly, seeing as Price acted on a mix of instincts and worry - wrapped around your ankle, clinging tightly to your boot-clad leg while a rumble rattled his chest. Steam rolled from his lips, billowing over the top of his hat in a show of power and warning. You hoped they wouldn’t take this negatively. They worked hard to curb the harmful rumours of 141 being beasts in human skin, acting like blood-thirsty and ravaging monsters that cared for nothing but themselves. 
Although you couldn’t see them, the Austrian could, his towering height assured that he could see over almost any human, monster and hybrid alike. He was curious about the way they protected one of theirs as if you were weak. He cocked his head, green eyes gleaming red as he stared silently at the small mop of hair between them. What made you so important? What made you such a protected soldier? He couldn’t sense you like he could the others, their scent and magic masking yours in a violent torrent. 
Unlike him, his friend couldn’t be bothered with the show of protection, he’d enrolled for the money and wouldn’t be deterred by much. He was a tiger haetae, honourable to a certain extent and proud. He might be shorter than the hybrids around him, but he was as vicious and talented as the next. He, however, was slightly curious, but he wasn’t paid enough to inquire or worry about the doings of 141’s pack.
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It went as well as anyone would expect for the 141 with the added help of two military, hybrid operators from an elite PMC. As the combat medic of the TF, you followed them from behind and moved to the middle when you entered the building. You’d usually be at the back, being a medic, but you were a combat medic, having seen and participated in complete ops dealing with infiltrations and hostage rescue. You were an integral part of every mission. Now that they had a medic on hand, the wounds the men suffered could be treated in place rather than wait for the long ride home with the possibility of letting infection take root in the gash and watching it fester during hours in the carrier. 
They had a habit of getting shot and slashed, a tad bit reckless in their ways but still effective. The stress of risking infection or the impossibility of reaching a medic after a mission was lessened, Price would still be able to live a few more centuries before his hair turned grey with nerves and his face wrinkled with frowns. You were a treasure beyond the fact that you were extremely helpful and insightful on your own. Your hands were steady and your demeanour calm and collected (albeit fidgety when put under too much pressure and fiery when someone looked at them differently.), you were a beauty, someone they needed to nurse and protect. 
“I warned you about standing so close to the explosion!” They watched you berate Soap, cheeks puffed and lips pulled in an adorable pout. You went on a list of things he could’ve done better and safer than the decision he made, hands pulling the bandage around his arm, your bag set beside you. 
“How was I supposed ta know?” The werewolf grumbled, giving you his best version of his “puppy dog eyes'' while he slouched back, trying to sit as comfortably as possible on the hard seats of the aircraft carrier. 
“You’re a demolition expert, you’re supposed to know, Soap.” You hissed, tightening the wrap and smoothing it over so that it would hold. Your hand dipped into your bag, pulling out a few alcohol wipes for his face. With a jerky motion of your hands, you broke the seal and started patting his bleeding cuts from shrapnel and grazes from bullets. He winces with every dab, fidgeting in his seat while you disinfected his wounds, wiping away the dirt and blood before deeming it clean enough to move to the next one. “You also have a habit of setting things on fire.”
Although you mumbled it so quietly, the others heard you clearly, laughter rumbling out of the others while they watched Soap being scolded by the youngest. You never feared reprimanding them for an idiotic act that would result in having you tending to them, it was something they appreciated, the familiarity and comfort you had with them. They weren’t monsters, hybrids or anything with you, they were your family. 
Seeing you so at ease with them had König and Horangi curious, most would cower or segregate themselves from other hybrids. You especially, seeing as you were the only human with them, they thought it’d be normal to see you shrink onto yourself and ignore the world around you while you waited to return home. Yet here you were, berating a werewolf for cuts and bruises that would heal in the following days, his metabolism prevented infection and permanent scarring unless it was too deep or deadly. They’d simply add to his rugged handsomeness.
König wondered if you’d show him the same amount of compassion and ease when you tended to his wounds - if he ended up having any at all. Would your hands be soft like his mother’s when cradling his arm? Would you whisper soft nothings to him while you cleaned his gashes with antiseptics? Would you also scold him for being reckless? He doubted that. Granted, he was extremely reckless and lost himself to the adrenaline pumping through his system when he entered the field, but he always came out unscathed. As a percht hybrid, his extreme enhancements made him practically numb to pain and sensations, with the small exceptions of a few primarily driven emotions or natural reactions to certain stimuli.
Perhaps, if your efforts were thwarted by his immense height, you’d hold and tend to him as softly as you did with the others, running your fingers through his hair and cradling him against your chest. He thirsted for something mundane, something so human-like that he would be reminded that he wasn’t completely a monster. He missed the softness in people’s gazes or the carefree way they spoke to and with him. He missed being reminded that he - too - was a living being with their rights. You could be the start of a regular life - as regular as a mercenary could have.
Even Horangi, who had vehemently stated to König that he could care less about the small, weak human in the operation, gave you the merit of being strong-willed and confident enough to stand beside them. He, the ever prideful and strong hybrid he was, deemed you competent for a human. Your usefulness started with your quick reactions and impeccable skills in your field and stopped when you couldn’t save someone, which had yet to happen. He was intrigued by the workings of your TF, how they managed to score a single human and an amicable one at that, strong and fierce, yet gentle and compassionate. If he’d grown up with someone like you, would he have turned out the way he did? 
He simply watched from his corner beside König, through tinted glasses his eyes followed your movement, memorising everything you did for your brothers. They felt like imposters in your small, seven-men group, seemingly standing awkwardly in their little corner. 141 had shown a bit of aggression towards them in warning words and deadly glares when they assumed you didn’t see them, hissing out threats to ensure your safety among them. Not only were they confused by the dynamic, but they weren’t told anything besides “Back off” and growls. 
After patting Gaz’s knee, giving him an oscar winning smile with gleaming eyes that were received with enthusiasm, you packed your things in your bag and moved to the next patient. You skipped Price, Ghost and Rudy, crouching in front of Alejandro. Rummaging through your bag and handing him a clean wipe for his dust-covered face, the soot clinging to his cheeks. He expected you to sit by your locked rifle after checking them, but you continued walking. You were heading towards them.
He knew König left the ground unscathed, clean of anything but dirt and blood, which meant he was the one you were heading towards. Hand on your pouch and a steady step backed up by a determined expression, you stopped before him. He tilted his head, a silent question. You blinked dumbly, holding out your hand to him, your small fingers backing him to give you something.
“Can I see your hand?”
His hand? He hadn’t thought much of it as he rested it on yours, palm upwards and gloveless. He saw it then, the small cut that bled red, small enough to be neglectable, but long enough to still be bleeding. He hadn’t felt anything from it before or after boarding the aircraft, he must’ve still been riding the adrenaline rush from the fight. He wondered how you knew he hurt himself.
Your fingers curled around his palm, holding it firmly as you lightly dabbed the inflamed skin with a sterilised tissue, being careful of the flared sides of his torn flesh. Under the blood and dirt, his skin was pale and swollen, the area having demanded his body to react to the potential bacteria that would worm its way into his system. You threw the bloody tissue aside and got an antiseptic wipe, being careful to not irritate his wound. Your care was gentle and patient. To a being like him, a hybrid and KorTac op, gentle and patient were foreign words to him. None were gentle to hybrids and none were patient with mercenaries. 
Even as you wrapped the gauze and bandage around his hand, you gave him all your attention, sweetly cradling his hand between yours and nursing his gash with utmost care. It felt alien, the soothingly soft care of a medic. Other medics would’ve stared at him with disgust or hate if he walked near the infirmary, or they were rough and uncaring towards his needs. 
“Thank you,” he mumbled, the sudden realisation of his silence in the face of a benevolent angel and the rush of embarrassment that flushed his neck hotly. He stared dumbly at his hand when you left, placed on his thigh with the white bandage staring right at him. The warmth of your hand had sunk into his skin, the feather-light tenderness of your fingers painted in his memory and your smile and determined expression stuck to him. 
Even as he let his mind wander and body thirst for another taste of your gentleness, he could feel the burning stares of the other men. König with his curious and envious gaze, wanting to feel the snippet you offered Horangi, wanting your hands and stare at his giant figure. The 141 with their protective and warning glare, resenting him for taking a few minutes of your attention from them. You’d moved on your own, making your decision to help him with his small wounds as you did with them, he hadn’t forced you or compelled you to treat him.
Perhaps there was more than money and experience that was worth in this joint operation. 
When the success of their first mission reached the prying ears of the General, he’d given them a few more joint ops - paid by the United States pockets, of course. Horangi and König were given temporary rooms in the barracks, in the same corner as the other hybrids and you, but far enough to show that they were excluded from them. Fortunately, they wouldn’t share the room, tigers were protective of one’s territory, and a percht hybrid - as rare as it may be - was documented to be hyper-possessive of their things, especially so for someone like König. 
Horangi didn’t ignore you anymore, wanting to start a conversation when he passed you or staring at you from the other side of the room until you waved at him, letting him know he could approach you. He worked relentlessly to close the gap he had made between you, wanting to attach himself to the one good thing he had. Yet he had to be cautious, any indication of him being a threat to you would make your team act out in unison, pushing him back and covering you like they did the second he descended the ramp. 
Ghost would hover over you, his body moving the darkness around him to seem more menacing. Ghost always glared at him when you turned your back to the Brit, his brown eyes swirling with the promise of death and devastation. Ghost wasn’t a physical hybrid, as Horangi had learned, but he had no qualms about keeping a hand on your hip or over your shoulder, acting as an imposing being that showcased his claim on you so publicly. It filled the Korean with envy and anger, he wanted to touch you as easily as the wraith did, he wanted a claim on you like the Lieutenant did, and he wanted to hold you close. 
If not Ghost, it’d be Rudy or Gaz crowding you. If you were in the rec room, Gaz would usually be there with you. His arm thrown over your shoulders, pulling you into his side while his wings curled around you two, dark brown feathers ruffled to look menacing but comfortable to your touch. With the way he sat, slouching and legs spread across the sofa, he took all the available seats on the cheap, brown couch. When Gaz caught sight of him, he’d purposefully moved to take up more space, showing just how much one of the nicest of the 141 ostracised him. Although when someone from his TF, he’d move aside, giving space to the man to join them. 
If you were walking around the base, Rudy - or Rudolfo as Horangi was forced to call him - would be by your side. Rudy had an arm wrapped around yours, seemingly like a military couple out on a casual walk, or he had his hand on your back, acting as the protective lover. Rudolfo’s smile was always wide and adoring when Horangi saw him walk you, exchanging words and making you laugh. It stung Horangi in an inexplicable way as if someone was knowingly sentencing him to death without any proof of his accountability. Rudy, the second nicest guy, also made glaring passes his way, pulling you closer to his side, directing you away and staring coldly at Horangi.
It rubbed him wrong, all the silent glares and insults at him to push him farther from you, but he was Horangi the Tiger haetae. He made his calculations, he was as smart and as resourceful as he was patient. Give it a few more missions together and they would loosen enough to let him swoop you off your feet. You were his source of comfort, of love and gentleness, he had to protect it. 
Unlike Horangi, König actively sought you out on the base, following the trail of your scent and the soft noises of your voice and heartbeat. He was like a dog on your trail, nose sniffing every bit of air for you and ears strained for any noise you’d make. His senses were stretched thin to find a moment with you. He was as animalistic as a hybrid could get, leaning towards his monster to help him with his ops and trials. 
You piqued König’s curiosity, making him wander the halls like a lumbering monster in a dark veil and glaring, red eyes. He saw how you treated big and dangerous monsters like the dragon hybrid you had as a captain, a respectable man, as soft as you treated the rowdy and rough werewolf and gracefully dangerous nagual. König wanted to feel your softness on him, your small hand grasping the tight muscles of his shoulders and back, kneading the tension away with grounding massages and stretches. You were their doctor, you cared enough to join them in the field, so you’d naturally be willing to mass the pain out of his body, no? 
He wanted moments alone, where he could speak his mind without fear of being interrupted or pushed away for his imposing stature and aura. He wanted to place a hand on your waist, to feel the plush roundness of your stomach and the firm contour of muscle on your thighs. He wanted his voice to carry easily in the void of silence, where his voice could be heard by you from a small whisper. He wanted your eyes to focus on him, solely, as if he was your world. 
He found it rather irritatingly difficult to find such moments. When he followed your scent through the halls and down to the medic's office, he’d find Captain Price crowding the room with his powerful musk of Ashe and fire - of metal and iron. Although Price was much shorter and lesser ranked than König was, he held the power of age and wisdom, an unfathomable strength that lay solely in draconic beings. This eternal power that none could rival apart from Eldritch beings, most cower, whimper and hide from dragons. He wore his power and wisdom on his sleeves, a warning for everyone, him and his KorTac operators included. König might’ve been reckless, but he wasn’t a fool, fighting headfirst with dragon seamed chaos and devastation. So, as any hybrid did, he backed away, an old dragon was dangerous, but a crippled one made it even more perilous.
When König tried to find you in the rec room, you were held in the tight embrace of a possessive wolf. Soap had you straddling his lap, facing him as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck. He purred and kissed your skin, making you squirm and giggle, but then Soap’s eyes gazed upwards and grew cold and unruly at König’s appearance. A proud - dare he say, cruel - smirk curled the corners of his lips. That was when he realised what the sergeant was doing. Soap, in the open, was scenting you, rubbing his musk over your neck, where - if you were another sifting hybrid like him and Alejandro - would’ve been your scent gland. It was a blatant show of possession. He nipped at your throat, drinking in your yelp and hiss, your back arching and moving to push him from biting too much. It filled him with rage.
If you weren’t with either dragon or werewolf, you were with Alejandro, the Hispanic scenting you as much as Soap did, but he did it with more finesse and subtlety. He would draw your hair back, the gland on his wrist grazing your neck and ears, imprinting you with him. Alejandro would hold your hand, fingers neatly intertwined with yours, his face laying on your shoulder as he spooned you in his lap. He purred and whispered sweet promises that had you nodding and smiling like a child on Christmas. He oosed of pheromones, filling the area with his scent and in turn, covering you completely in him. König watched with envy as Alejandro read to you, cradled between his thighs and falling asleep, his, Soap and everyone else’s musk laying a possession over you. 
König’s a determined person when he put his mind to it, willing his beaten and bloodied self back to camp, or his sleep-deprived and insomniac-ridden mind to concentrate on the enemy. He was a battering ram, he pushed forward forcefully, however hard he had to, all to reach the end goal. This time, it wouldn’t be the head of his target, or the capture of an asset, this time, it would be you.
They both wondered, with how close your TF was, what was the dynamic. Was it a pack that shared the same lover? Was it a pack that had formed such a close connection to a human that you were deemed an integral part of the pack? Or were you the child they watched over and protected?
The next few missions 141 and the two from KorTac went on were as successful as the first, the cooperation of two ruthless mercenaries and a hybrid, specialist group made these tasks easy, near child’s play for them. Along with the aspect of having a medic on hand, it let them run wild, play along the edge and act more recklessly than they normally would. Having Horangi and König for so long, made them become a standard in the base, seeing them walk among the shorter and weaker humans. That also meant they had seen their fair share of xenophobic soldiers with balls bigger than a dragon’s and an ego the size of an Eldritch creature. 
Every hybrid and monster was used to their hateful glares and sneering venom-dripping words. Ignoring them had become easier after the first year of enrolment. Horangi and König were, however, not used to someone defending them with their most honest heart of gold with earth-shattering words. 
The first time they’d seen you defend your team was right after a mission, haunches, lumbering bodies descending the carrier’s ramp with their bags slung over their shoulders and addled with fatigue after a week of deployment. Young, power-hungry sergeants who’d let their ranks get to their heads had slid before them, head held high and shoulders held wide. Every single one of them knew that the moment the sergeant’s mouth opened, nothing good would come out of it. Perhaps degrading insults or back-handed sneers.
When the first sentence slipped from the man’s tongue, you pushed your way between them, barrelling into the man who’d insulted them. A deep frown was etched into your lips, brows creased so darkly into you that it cast a dark shroud of anger over your face. If König hadn’t known that you were a human, he would’ve thought that you were a being of darkness. 
“You dim-witted bastards-!” Was the first word you let out, your usually soft-spoken self with gentle hands spewed acid at them, threatening to burn their skin. 
Dim-witted, indeed. Old, conservative assholes who thought they were better than the rest with their pro-human propaganda and xenophobic acts against hybrids. Horangi had expected you to continue your scolding, wringing the sergeant dry with your words, not your hands. You used your hands, fingers curled inward, thumb over the curves of your bones and decked the man. It shocked them both, you were smaller, shorter, human and seemed weaker than the men, yet here you were, sending him toppling on the floor, his friend gaping and pouncing on you. Only to be met with your foot to his crotch. 
“You bet your ass you won’t get any medical attention after this,” you hissed.
Although your words sounded improbable since you weren’t the only medic on base, you had built a connection through the system, every medic knew you and heeded your words. If one didn’t want a man healed, you and the rest wouldn’t help him. If you wanted a man to suffer, the rest would watch on with you. Medics were themselves, a tight-knit couple that helped one another. So your words were more than a threat, it was a promise. 
“Until I see your sorry asses on your deathbed or grovelling, none of us will lift a finger for you. Bleed and beg all you want, but you aren’t getting help.”
You acted with an iron hand, sending the rest to the ground, moaning and groaning, cradling whatever part of their body you’d hit. They wondered why Ghost hadn’t moved, and neither did Gaz or Rudy, the most protective ones. When König glanced down at Ghost, he saw pride in his eyes, dark curled on sadistic pleasure swirling in his brown eyes. When Horangi gazed at Gaz and Rudy, he saw simple amusement, their mouths threatening to curl in a smirk.
All of them had known you’d act this way, erratic and violent rather than calmly scold them and stomp over their ego. You were strong-headed and blunt to them, making them bow to you, like lesser men to a lady, a queen, a goddess. 
Horangi had experienced his own protection from you. After the men had loosened enough to trust him and König, he could walk beside you and hold a simple banter, albeit awkward at the start. You were much more violent this time, reaching for the downed man while hissing and screeching after you sent him to the floor with well-aimed kicks. You were like a gremlin, small and lively. He understood your anger, they’d called him racist things, calling out his Asian roots and hybrid characteristics. 
Horangi had to hold you from going off on him following your promise of neglecting his medical needs. It worked, though. The first group had searched to plead, to apologise and beg for medical attention. You’d sent them away with a small note lifting the ban for medical help. You were as ruthless with people as they were to enemies. 
Any other encounters with hot-headed men and women that glanced at them weirdly were met with a varying amount of anger and disgust from you. Horangi understood why 141 held you so carefully, so tightly in their hold. Why they worshipped you like a priest would do with his goddess. It was a sense of camaraderie that had evolved into love, affection dripping from their pores. 
König received a bit more attention for his size, the threatening nature of his ouster coupled with his brute figure, made him a subject of fear and rejection. That hadn’t stopped you from wanting to approach him, had it? Going as far as calling him cute when he stuttered while broaching the subject of him liking certain things. For a burly man with the height of a giant, he was nice to sit next to, his quiet but anxious stature when he wasn’t deployed made it easy to talk to. He might sometimes let his instincts drive him, but they were all well-meaning, wanting nothing but goodness for you. 
His turn came in quick succession, he was shunned and ridiculed left and right. It never helped that he would shy from others, preferring his little corner that made the room look stranger and claustrophobic (not that he let them walk all over him, he growled and glared, standing tall with the promise of lashing out or eating them. Even when humans feared König, they still attempted to rile his anger.). But with you, he wasn’t by his lonesome, he had someone to rattle on about the things he liked to do, or the things he wanted to do. His shoulders were relaxed and mind calm, free to speak his mind about the goriest and the sweetest dreams he had, his speech unperturbed by his anxiety. 
Unlike the others, König stood before you as an impenetrable wall of muscle and fat when you raised your hand at an insignificant pig. Why would he let someone so disgusting touch you (even though it was to hit and kick the man, he would do it for you instead)? He guarded you as if they were insulting you rather than him - though it was the reverse - and glared down at anyone with dreadfully scary eyes. Like the devil that had risen, he sent them running with their tails tucked between their legs. Although he was the one that had gotten rid of them, he was always so proud of you, holding you close to him and gushing about your brave and inspiring actions. 
He saw how the men in 141 looked at you, he wanted to be a part of it, to be able to freely nuzzle your face and hold you like Soap would, to cradle you in his arms and carry you around the base. König wanted a piece of your heart, to be able to show the world he held it in his hands, caring for it between his big, calloused fingers and soft affection. He might be dangerous, he might be deadly, he might be reckless, but if you let him, you would be his world like you were to the others (Horangi would agree, they spoke about it on their own.).
Next
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keferon · 4 days ago
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*thwack*
Get his ass!
*insert about the cruel indifference of the universe vs the indomitable human spirit, idk*
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Prowl watched Jazz wrap his discolored torso with some sort of cloth type bandage, fascinated by the way the injury seemed to mimic the injury that Jazz’s… mech… had taken during the battle just breems before. The first time that Prowl had gotten to watch Jazz patch himself up, he had hovered worriedly and awkwardly. At the time, he had only just learned a few cycles before that his closest friend was an organic who piloted a mech-like body as a weapon, and not the mech itself.
Jazz had babbled on and on about how his mech could take serious damage and he would be fine, but sometimes the “DRIFT” connection between organic and machine meant that some wounds transferred over to the organic body. If Jazz took a blow to the helm and lost it, he wouldn’t have to worry about dying, but he would have a helm-splitting headache afterwards. Apparently, it had something to do with the cerebral connection that was needed to pilot such a large piece of machinery like it was an extension of your person. Some kind of unethical science that definitely would have had some bots going to jail if Jazz were Cybertronian. It reminded Prowl too much of Shockwave.
When the Praxian had expressed his discomfort at the slight connection he had made, Jazz had given him a small sad smile. The words that Jazz spoke in reply would probably haunt him for deca-cycles.
“When we were invaded, what was and wasn’t ethical kinda got thrown out the window. We were losin’ cities everyday, our population was dwindin’, either due to the Quints or due to civil unrest. Humans… we ‘ave short lives compared to you guys. But we love’em. Threw all our cards into one basket, and prayed. Monsters to fight Monsters was the propaganda they spread when I was growing up.”
Prowl’s optics dimmed lightly as he watched Jazz stretch upwards, pulling at the bandages and heavy bruises. The human made a slight groaning noise as bones popped from the stress. He turned to look up at Prowl, spinning a-top Prowl’s desk to give him a wide and mischievous grin. Prowl snorted faintly, watching his friend with a fondness in his EM field that he knew Jazz couldn’t feel.
“They never said anything about wha’ the Hunter Program does to the pilot. Only that when ya signed up, ya got a mech matching your specific specs and the opportunity to go slay monsters. Sometimes the mech was prebuilt, from a pilot who died and left their mech still intact, and sometimes you got your own personalized one. The mech itself though… they were never the unethical part of the program. It was all the serums and shit that they stuffed into me to ensure I’d survive the DRIFT process. I… I remember being tied down to a med-bunk and… and just flashes of horrific pain.”
Jazz walked up to Prowl, still grinning, preening almost like a turbo kitten. The Praxian laid out his servo so Jazz could crawl aboard, being mindful of his organic friend. He lifted Jazz up to his shoulder, relaxing as Jazz tucked himself in close, humming softly as he settled in the take a nap on Prowl’s shoulder. Prowl’s doorwings fluttered a bit.
“Yer not wrong. That what we did to survive was unethical, probably inhumane. But… humans… we hate losing. We do unspeakable things when given the right motivation. For some it’s love, loyalty, family, country, pride, greed. I’ve seen pilots pull themselves from their mech’s corpse, waving a gun at the jaws of a monster, whilst missing an arm and half their face. I’ve seen doctors tie down rookie pilots and pump them full of drugs and serums, watch them scream and plead for mercy, watch them die when it’s too much for their body to handle, so that pilots don’t die the minute they try to DRIFT. Yer not wrong. Humans can be vile and cruel and outright terrible, but we can also strive for peace and love and kindness. It’s that, that makes us survivors.”
Jazz’s humming fell quiet as he fell asleep against Prowl’s neck, causing the Praxian to relax slowly back into his office chair. He looked up at the data pad that Knockout had given him, containing Jazz’s full medical checkup. The list of everything in near critical condition for his species was… alarming. Jazz had said he felt fine during the checkup. Knockout’s reading said differently. Knockout’s readings said Jazz was dying. That Jazz had been dying for years.
Jazz knew he was dying and wasn’t moving to fix it. Because pilots have their life for their planet, and pilots had a set expiration date.
Jazz had accepted this date.
Prowl had never been so angry.
“An expiration date” made me silently stare into space for a while. Hoooly shit….
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goodiegoddesselle · 10 months ago
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my favorite pair | L. DH
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pairing: enemy roommate!haechan x reader
genre: smut, sir/daddy dom, unprotected sex, degradation, pervert haechan lol, enemies to lovers, uses doll/toy as a nickname
summary: you see one day that your annoying roommate, haechan, hasn't done his laundry and just left his basket by the washing machine. sure, this is irritating, but it reminded you to do your own. when you finally start getting your own clothing, you notice that your favorite pair of underwear is missing. on top of noticing that, you notice that your roommate, who moves around the apartment a lot normally, hasn't left his room at all that day either.
wc: 3k
minors dni. dont like, dont read.
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You were tired of him. Tired of the dishes constantly sitting in the sink. Tired of his friends constantly being piled up on the couch, like you didn’t live there too. Tired of all the noise from his gaming—finally, it truly occurred to you just how tired you were of your roommate Lee Haechan.
For the most part, he didn’t do much but sit around and annoy you, whether or not he actually did his chores. It was almost like he messed with you on purpose. Despite all of this, however, you couldn’t help yourself from still having a partially hidden crush on him.
Yes, sadly, you did have a crush on him. You did, but there’s only so much you can do about having a crush on someone that doesn’t really get along with you the way you truly would’ve liked. It was almost impossible not to, nonetheless, seeing as Haechan was one of the most gorgeous men out there. His hair was long, golden and wavy, his eyes glowed a glistening honey color, and his voice was sultry with the perfect tenor tone. And with the amount of talents this man had, there really wasn’t anything you couldn’t like him for.
Did Haechan know about this crush, though? Never in a million years. You figured you would die before he even came close to knowing about it, let alone actually knowing. Especially since he was so irritating to you, even at that moment.
“Ugh, can you actually do your damn chores Haechan? I would like to take a break too, y’know!” you called out. You were in your room, digging through your clothes after seeing his laundry basket lying next to the washing machine. You figured you might as well do the laundry anyway, since he wasn’t getting around to it and your clothing was beginning to pile up inside your room.
A deep sigh left you as you dug through your underwear and recognized that something was wrong. It was gone—your favorite pair of panties was missing, and oddly enough, this was the first time that has ever happened to you. Your eyebrows scrunched in complete confusion. Where the hell could they have possibly gone?
You searched a little further, peeking under your pillows and through the rest of the drawers until Haechan’s lack of movement started making you curious. Sure, he was annoying, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t another human, and he typically moved around the apartment a lot more than he was that day.
Immediately you turned around, walked out of your room, and headed to the bedroom next to yours. It wouldn’t take much to get in his room anyway, seeing as he was either playing a game or sleeping with all the grunting he was letting out.
At least, you thought so.
You simply knocked on his door twice before letting yourself in, ready to talk about his laundry until your eyes landed on your roommate, who rushed to pull his blanket over his completely nude body. The squat you would have to do to pick up your jaw would probably give you the strongest legs on Earth.
“Woah!” he yelled, his eyes wide as he scrambled to hide his hands under the blanket as well. “I, um—I was just, uh, I-I…”
“There’s no need to explain, Haechan,” you interrupted, a smirk slowly spreading across your face, “I already saw them. Really? That’s what you’ve been doing?” The laugh that left you made his face turn the hottest shade of red.
It wasn’t hard to see Haechan holding your favorite panties in his hand. For once, you weren’t angry about it either. It was, however, a teeny bit shocking instead. You didn’t know that he was like this at all, seeing as every time one of your pairs would go missing, you would find it somewhere in your room the day after. The whole time you just figured it was you making them disappear. At least, until now.
You walked a little closer to him, closing the door behind you and giggling lowly. “Lee Haechan, when were you ever going to tell me that you are the world's most hidden pervert?” you asked. It was like he was frozen in place, internally freaking out as you leaned in and ran your thumb across his chin, his breath completely silent. “Well? What are you going to say about all this?”
“You know what, I was going to find an excuse, but since you want the truth so bad…” Haechan sat up, suddenly grabbing your wrist and pulling it away from his chin while pulling you closer. Your eyes widened as he held up your underwear again. His lips rose into a cocky grin as he waved them back and forth, watching the annoyance cover your face all over again. “It’s one thing to want you this badly, y’know, but you make it really easy to come and get these. And if you want them back, babe, this time you’re going to have to work for it.”
You scoffed. “Work for it? When it belongs to me? Guess you’re always like this, huh?”
“Like what, Y/N?”
“So goddamn infuriating!” you answered, rolling your eyes. Haechan laughed and leaned closer and closer to you, all the way to the point where your lips were almost touching, but not quite yet.
“Do you know you only get hotter and hotter the angrier you get?” Haechan replied. “If you didn’t want me to be so ‘goddamn infuriating’, then stop being so goddamn hot.”
He closed the distance between you two, tilting his head and pressing his lips to yours. It took no time at all for you to respond to it. You kissed him back fervently and climbed further onto his lap, sliding your hands onto his shoulders and taking his words and actions as an invitation to fight back. It was hard to reject him, after all, especially after feeling his teeth graze against your bottom lip several times.
The feeling of Haechan’s arms wrapping around your hips brought you into a high you didn’t even know you could reach, only getting higher and higher as he leaned down to your neck, slowly leaving kisses and sucking marks onto your warm skin. Crowds of moans left your lips, making him bite even harder. Out of nowhere, he flipped the two of you over and shoved you onto his mattress.
“I don’t care what anyone else thinks or how much I infuriate you, babe,” Haechan whispered into your ear, licking the shell of it, “you’re mine whether you like it or not.” He tossed the panties away from the bed and went back to leaving hot kisses on your lips and neck. But this time, you could feel his fingers sliding down your torso, all the way until he reached your pajama shorts and pushed under them. Another chuckle left him, and you could feel your face scorching from embarrassment, knowing damn well that he was laughing because you weren’t wearing anything under them. Your lips separated for a moment, but shut shortly after, shyness killing your effort to say something before he did. Haechan, however, already knew where you were headed with that.
“Oh? What, do you only wear your favorite ones?” Despite knowing it was a genuine question on his end, you really couldn’t find it in you to answer him. You even looked away, but that had no point, especially since he grabbed your jawline and immediately pulled your head back into facing him.
“Look at me when I speak to you, and don’t make me tell you again,” Haechan ordered. “You can use your words, doll. In fact, I’d like it better if you did.”
“Um, n-no, I don’t,” you stuttered back. Haechan’s gaze alone was intimidating you, which only made the situation ten times better than when it began. In fact, it got even better than that, right when his fingers started lazily rubbing at your cunt, slipping between your lips and toying with your clit. A loud groan filled the room the moment he began.
Haechan slid two of his fingers into you while keeping his eyes on yours. “For someone that loves talking about how annoying I am, you’re pretty wet right now. Soaked, even,” he teased, fingers massaging at your sweet spot gently. “It’s real cute.”
A frown crossed your face. You wanted so badly to say something back to that, but there wasn’t much to say back to the truth, really. However, as he picked up the speed of his fingers, the frown died within a few seconds, followed by his name being pulled out of you. Each second after, you could feel yourself getting closer to finishing, and you were completely ready for it—until he ripped his hand out of you. At first you were upset about it, but then you saw him licking your essense off of his fingers with an evil grin on his face, and that settled right away, being replaced with the need for him to put something much bigger back where his hand was.
Haechan pulled his fingers out of his mouth and chuckled, saying, “don’t think I can’t tell when you’re almost there; you made that face like you were ready to explode.”
Another pout crossed your face. “Then why didn’t you let me get there?” you asked. His face straightened out as he looked at you like you truly didn’t understand the situation you put yourself in at the moment. Again, he grabbed your chin and made you face him, his eyes flaring now instead of swirling with honey like usual.
“Did you really think I was just going to let you cum and we’d be done here? When you haven’t even thought about what you need to do for me too? Get up.” His hand slipped away as he climbed off of you, gesturing for you to rise up as well and take your shorts off. Despite being ordered to, another thought came to your mind and you figured things would definitely get different if you followed it. This time, a smirk crossed your face instead, and you crossed your arms.
“If you want me to get up, make me, then,” you baited, watching a look of surprise spread across his face before disappearing quickly. Before you could even see what he was planning to do, his hand shot across the bed like lightning and grasped your wrist again, startling you. Somehow you knew where this was headed for you.
“Last I checked, doll, I told you not to make me have to tell you again,” Haechan growled, ripping you off of the bed and in front of him, “but if you’re going to make me, you’re going to find out why I warned you to begin with. Shorts, off. Now.”
Completely filled with intimidation, you wasted no time in pulling your pajama shorts off this time, being completely nude from the waist down. Haechan’s gaze swept over you before he lifted your shirt up and leaned in, lips heading for your chest, right below your neck this time. He began leaving spots all over it, suckling onto your skin and heading lower and lower each time. You couldn’t help yourself from whining as he did it, grabbing at his shoulders again as your legs shook.
“H-Hae…” you mumbled, grip tightening around him. Haechan’s teeth grazed across your right breast before his head lifted. “Is there something my little toy wants?” he interrupted. With a tight throat, you simply nodded, hoping you could find it in you to answer him with words this time, but it didn’t take long for you to find out that those words wouldn’t matter either way. He lowered his head again and bit on your nipple, making you cry out into the room.
“Remember what I said earlier? Disrespectful playthings like you don’t get what they want either way,” Haechan said, sliding his hands under your thighs and lifting you up. “Learn how to act right next time and maybe I’ll reconsider.”
“Yes…” you moaned.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, sir…”
Haechan hummed in response and turned around, pinning you against the wall next to the door. “Now it’s my turn to play with my little toy,” he muttered. It didn’t take much time at all for you to feel it—the feeling of Haechan stretching you out with his size alone, making you wonder if you could even take someone as big as that. Your face froze with your mouth open, facing the ceiling in complete shock, your soul escaping your body more and more the deeper he got into you. Haechan himself let out a long, smooth moan as he pressed into you.
“God, I never knew you’d be this tight, Y/N,” he said, pulling out a little before thrusting himself back in roughly. “So, so good…” The two of you stayed still for a moment as he let you get used to his size. After a few moments, Haechan began again, pushing and pulling himself in and out of you at a slow pace at first.
“Sir,” you finally spoke, “can you speed up a little bit?”
“I will if you ask me nicely,” he responded, still moving slowly just to mess with you.
“Sir, please speed up,” you pleaded. Haechan leaned down and left a quick kiss on your neck before speeding up to a pace more hasty, more rough and harder to handle. Part of you regretted asking him to get faster, but most of you couldn’t even focus on that. You were enjoying the sensation of his cock hitting your sweet spot full force each time he slammed into you, your back pressing against the wall as he fucked you.
“Look at my pretty little doll, taking it like she should be,” Haechan teased, going harder and harder into you. At this point, you could barely handle what he was giving you, but every part of you wanted it. Needed it, even. You could even feel your orgasm coming toward you full speed, like a car on the highway at night. With how loud you were moaning, too, everything in you knew that he could tell as well.
“I’m so close,” you breathed, your arms tightening around his neck as your cunt tightened around him.
“Really? Is my doll already so close? How bad do you want it?” Haechan asked mockingly.
“So bad,” you replied, “really, really bad…”
“Yeah? Then beg for it.”
“Please, sir, please let me cum; I need this so badly…”
Haechan reached his hand down and began stroking at your clit. “Keep going, babe.”
“I’m so close, please let me cum, I’m begging! I-I’ve been doing good, please, I’ve been a good girl,” you continued pleading as a shock of what felt like lightning passed through you. If he didn’t decide now, you were going to release either way, and you didn’t want to disobey him all over again just to get another punishment.
“Hmm,” Haechan hummed decisively, almost jokingly. “You have been doing pretty well so far… I think you’ve earned it. You know what to do; cum for me, now.”
Immediately you released, his order cutting the tie for you. You were squeezing his cock as your juices leaked out, spreading all over him as he continued to thrust into you. It was amazing, but the overstimulation was starting to hit you not too long after.
“S-Sir, I can’t take this anymore,” you cried, legs weakening around his waist as he continued.
“Yes you can, doll,” Haechan responded, grunting lowly, “because good girls take what they’re given. And I’ve got something for you to take.”
Your nails were clawing into his skin at this point. Tears rolled down your cheeks as the intensity increased. You could feel another orgasm coming for you, and your whole body was ready to implode all over again. Haechan pressed his face into your neck again, taking a deep breath in before moaning at full volume, picking up speed as he pounded into you.
Not too long after, Haechan’s teeth sunk into your collarbone again as he moaned, “now take everything Daddy gives you.” Instantly, you were filled with more and more of his cum as he came, pushing you harder against the wall and leaning up to kiss you on your lips instead. The two of you made out even after he finished, even after both of you noticed that his release was starting to drip out of you, and even after you noticed you had also came while he was getting off. After a while, the two of you finally pulled away from each other, Haechan still carrying you but just not against the wall anymore.
Soon after, the high started fading away, replacing itself with a different level of nervousness. The reality that you just slept with your crush-slash-enemy hit you like a full-force train. At some point, you decided that since you already did all of this, you might as well just let him know anyway. “I just wanted to say, Haechan,” you began nervously, “that I do actually like you… I just didn’t really have a way to let you know, I guess…”
The nervousness began peaking when all Haechan did was watch you in silence while blinking. Then, out of nowhere, another gentle laugh escaped him. “You think I didn’t know that, Y/N? What did you think I bothered you so damn much for?”
“You what?” you gasped. “You fucking knew that already and didn’t ask me out or something like that instead?” He shrugged.
“Just wanted to play with my toy first. You should already know that you’re mine. I’m just glad everyone else gets to know now, too,” he said. 
You sighed. “You’re so freaking annoying.” Haechan leaned in right by your face again.
“Doesn’t matter; either way you’re mine. Aren’t you, doll?”
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my-my-my · 1 month ago
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KINKTOBER DAY 6 - Somnophilia: Sosuke Aizen (Hueco Mundo) x Female Reader
Requested by anonymous
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Summary: Observing people, shinigami and hollows alike, are just one of the many hobbies Aizen likes to partake in. In one of his visits to Naruki City, he decides to leave a book from his personal collection, in a used bookstore. You, a human who doesn't know any better, become fascinated by the book - never hearing or seeing anything about it before. No one knows of this book, except a stranger, Aizen, who feeds your curiosity.
TW: this is kinda angsty. Implied past somnophiliac acts (reader thinks its a dream), dubious consent, hypnotism, voyeurism, stalking.
Word count: 2491
Read on AO3 here.
In preparation of his descent into Hueco Mundo, Aizen scoured Karakura Town and the nearby Naruki City for test subjects, spiritual readings and hollow experimentation. Sometimes, it’s easier to disguise himself amongst the humans, wearing a gigai.
Aizen is fascinated by the mostly mundane tasks of human beings. They’re so incredibly fragile in his presence yet make the most out of their inadequacies. While their technology is not as advanced as Soul Society, his or Urahara Kisuke’s inventions, he’s amused by what they have made for themselves already.
Sometimes Aizen wanders through the various bookstores and libraries in the World of the Living. He observes mortals and what they decide to read. For whatever reason, today he decided to bring a book from his own collection and places it on the shelf of a used bookstore.
He watches you, with curious eyes, skimming the book. Your eyes widen from what he can see. What will you make of it? He wonders. The store owner doesn’t recognize the book at all but sells it to you for a low price.
He watches you read it in your home, on your commute and your days off. You’re in awe.
You decide to finish the book in a quiet part of the park, under a gazebo with some of your favourite flowers surrounding it. Page after page, you’re engrossed with what the book shares with you, things you haven’t heard of, concepts you had never dreamed of. You had never heard of this book before, no existence of it in the library or online copies anywhere. Yet it captivated you.
“Are you enjoying that book? It’s quite fascinating, isn’t it?” Aizen asks, as he walks into the gazebo to see you.
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Today, Aizen would find you enjoying an iced coffee on the patio of a café in Naruki City. In the back of his mind, he had already begun his machinations to move you further away from Naruki City to Kyoto or somewhere else, where you wouldn’t be affected by his plans for Karakura Town and the nearby areas.
You sipped your coffee, thoroughly engrossed in a book that he had lent you. His lips twitched at seeing you enjoying something he also enjoyed, his heart quickened in your presence.
But he ignored it.
Today, Aizen donned a gigai, as he always does when he visits you. A simple white dress shirt tucked in to black slacks, the sleeves rolled up, his hair pushed back as normal. He ordered a white jasmine tea for himself, and a small pastry for you.
“Are you enjoying the book?” Aizen’s voice startled you, but you smiled at him, waving him over.
“Yes, I am, thank you so much Aizen-san! Your recommendations have been wonderful.” You beamed at him, placing a bookmark on the page as you closed the book. It wasn’t often that you bumped into your mysterious crush.
He gave you a small smile and sat across from you, taking a sip from his cup. This café is terrible he thought to himself, tasting the bitterness of the tea leaves. But you were here, and that was more than enough to finish drinking the offensive liquid.
“What brings you here today? I haven’t seen you in a while.” You asked, feeling nervous suddenly.
“No reason in particular, I was in the area and wanted some tea. I just happen to see you here today. It’s nice to see a familiar face.” Aizen said, continuing to drink his tea. He noticed your coffee was also still unfinished. “Are you not enjoying your drink?”
You laughed, then lowered your voice, “I found this place on a whim… but it’s kind of terrible don’t you agree?” To which you gave him a sheepish smile.
Aizen chuckled, nodding his head, “but I got this for you. Hopefully that’s better than our drinks.” Your eyes widened at the pastry, and you immediately thanked him for it.
You ripped a small portion off the plate and placed it immediately in your mouth. Your eyes lit up, it was surprisingly delicious. “You need to try this Aizen-san!” You immediately ripped another piece off and handed it to him.
A blush crept up your face as he ate from your hand. “It is delicious. Maybe they should open a bakery instead.” Aizen surmised, his tone calm and collected, as if your fingers weren’t near his mouth at all.
You gave a nervous laugh and immediately pulled away, “I think that’s a great idea for them.” “Ignoring them, tell me what you think of what you’ve read so far.” Aizen asked, watching your eyes glimmer in excitement.
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It had been a few months now, of meeting with Aizen, whose first name you learned was Sosuke. He revealed very little of himself, but you had exchanged numbers with him. As of late, many of your meetings were more like “dates,” that ended with some kisses and heavy petting.
Yet you still didn’t know much of the man. He was a complete enigma to you. You had shared with one of your closest friends what you knew about him, but even their sleuthing skills couldn’t find anything. Was he giving you a fake name?
You doubted that, but you never really saw him around town save for when you two were hanging out. He wasn’t purposefully evasive towards you, he told you as much that he was in the area a lot (but didn’t specify where), as he had work there (but didn’t disclose what he did).
Yet even then, when you two were together, it felt like the rest of the world was gone. The two of you were in a bubble. It was strange in some cases, you thought. On days when you were having an especially hard time, something at work or something upsetting, you would find him, almost as if on accident.
And the time with him felt comforting. Your problems felt like they disappeared when you were with him, or he offered you advice and listening ear if it was too much to bear.
But still, nothing about him, nothing of existence of him. Maybe… you were hallucinating him?
That would make sense, right? Your friends never met him, and any instances of trying to have him meet them were thwarted at some point. Even when you tried to take photos, your phone’s camera would (surprisingly) malfunction.
Now you felt crazy, but the books were real, weren’t they?
You picked up the latest book he lent you. It was heavy, hard and sturdy. It felt real.
You took a photo of it and sent it to your closest friend, who responded with a question mark.
“Why are you sending me a pic of a book?” Your friend responded.
You replied with an “oh it was an accident, meant for someone at work!”
Ok, so the books were real.
Then your phone rang. Speak of the devil and he shall appear your mind thought, as Aizen’s name flashed on your screen. You hurriedly picked it up and heard his baritone voice immediately. “Are you free tonight?”
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Aizen had treated you to dinner, at a remarkable restaurant you were saving up for. You savored every part of your meal, from the food, the décor and Aizen himself.
“I think…” you hesitated, wanting to choose your words carefully, “this is the first time you’ve called me for dinner, Aizen-san.”
He gave you a small smile, “it is, and unfortunately there’s a reason behind this.”
You felt your heart dropped at the shift of his tone.
“I’ll be going overseas indefinitely.” He said, “I’m not sure when I’ll be back here again.”
“Oh…” you trailed off, disappointment clear in your voice. “For how long?”
“I’m not sure yet, but it may be the last time I see you.” Aizen said, his face expressionless. He watched your face drop with sadness, while his heart felt a bit strange. But he ignored it, again. He enjoyed your company and nothing more of it would come from it. His plans were too far along now to pull you into them. It was better this way.
Although Aizen shared it was his last night, he wanted to spend the night together. It was a surreal blur to you. The two of you spent time watching the stars, discovering late night gems in Naruki City, with kisses in between, but once a yawn escaped your mouth, he escorted you home. You remember being tucked in to bed, and then waking up to find a new book on your bedside table. Aizen’s last gift to you. You thumbed the pages carefully before hugging the book to your chest.
The following morning, you sent him a text, to have it being bounced back. Calling him left you with an automated tone saying the number did not exist.
The man, Aizen Sosuke, never appeared in your life again. To your friends who knew of him, never brought him up.
At places where you two were seen together, no one batted an eye as to where your partner was. No one asked. As months went by, if it weren’t for the books lining your bookshelf, you would have wondered if he even really existed.
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Lord Aizen remained unphased watching Ulquiorra share his update on Karakura Town to him and the rest of the Espada. Everything was going according to plan, plans that he thought well and hard for, plans that had contingencies running if they were (shockingly) to fail.
Ulquiorra’s voice droned out of Lord Aizen’s mind as he saw the briefest glimpse of you. Of course Ulquiorra was not privy to you. Watching you, hearing you, talking to you was only a privilege to Lord Aizen.
To which he thought, he was due for a visit to you.
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Some nights you dreamt of Aizen.
Some dreams, the two of you were a seemingly normal couple, traveling the world and sight-seeing.
Other dreams he was a military captain, commanding his troops with his sword and his voice alone.
Some dreams felt real – his touch hot against your skin, his kisses deep and passionate. Your bed, his bed, some other bed – you would wake with the distant memories of moans and pleasure, as your thighs were left sticky, and your body covered in a light sheen of sweat.
Other dreams involved him in a palace far beyond, of stark white in an area devoid of light. Where sand dunes filled the landscape, with strange creatures roaming around. He commanded them, wearing robes of white, with a presence that commanding fear and utmost respect.
You never knew what to make of these dreams. Some days you loved them, to see him again, to “feel” him again. Other days you hated it, you wished you had never met him.
The dreams now, were becoming fewer and far between, and again, you weren’t sure if you were happy with that. To be haunted by him, or to forget him almost completely.
Tonight though, you were exhausted, and your bed called to you more than anything.
Once you were sound asleep, Aizen approaches. He knows you and your bed now. He knows which parts to put weight on – and which not to – to avoid waking you. It amused him some days, to hear you cry for him in your sleep, other days it made his brows furrow, his heart quickening like it did before.
Tonight he wanted you for himself. Seeing you in Ulquiorra’s surveillance update tugged at him. You called to him, both mind and body, and it bothered him. But tonight he would indulge. His reiatsu lightly fills this room, weighing on you more heavily, forcing you into a deeper slumber.
“Sosuke” you whimpered, your eyes still closed, while your brows were knitted. He kisses your forehead and watches you relax, wondering what you were dreaming of tonight.
Aizen cups your face and turns you on to your back. Your breathing is deep – your chest rises and falls to every breath you take, your breasts barely containing your nightshirt.
Aizen muses if you were made for him, as your legs spread apart. He whispers an incantation under his breath that leaves you naked and bare for him alone.
He runs his hands over your body, parts he's familiar with, places he hungers for. Deep kisses are left along your neck as he travels down your breasts, taking delicate care for each nipple.
Your eyes are still closed, but moans are freely spilling from your mouth. Aizen pushes your legs further apart, your glistening cunt in full display for him. He draws slow circles around your clit, earning a gasp and mewl from you. It amuses him how needy your pussy is for him, you’re completely drenched, and he hasn’t even put a finger in.
Aizen pushes a finger into your wet hole and relishes at how tight you are around him. Your mouth opens into a whine, “please, more Sosuke.” Although your eyes remain firmly closed.
Who was Aizen to deny you like this? Undoing a part of his robe, Aizen pumped his cock in his hand, watching you panting, and moaning for him. As if on reflex, he watches in amusement as you pinch and play with your own breasts, before your hand circles your clit, but he stops you before you can go further.
Your body was meant for him, and he would remind you of that fact.
Aizen slowly pushes his cock inside you, relishing at how your face tightens at the sudden intrusion, but slowly relaxes as you moan to the full stretch of him. Aizen brings your face to him, giving you a deep kiss as he slams his hips into you.
A part of him wants to see your eyes open for him, to watch your eyes sparkle at him, trickle with tears as he pounds you mercilessly. But not tonight. He grinds into you, forcing your legs on his shoulders as his cock is covered in your slick juices.
You chant his name, over and over again, cries for more pleasure, more of him. And of course, he would never deny you tonight. Aizen slams into your wet pussy repeatedly, as you tighten around him, before a low groan escapes Aizen, his cum filling you up as he remained inside you. He watches you in fascination as your eyes relax again, your breathing less laborious than before, slowly pulling his softening cock out of you. You let out a soft whine from the feeling, to which Aizen kisses you, as if to say he was sorry.
He undoes the incantation in your room, your shirt appearing back on your body, before fading into the darkness of Hueco Mundo once again. When morning comes, you’re left with another moment of wonder and frustration. Of sticky thighs, sore nipples and kiss swollen lips. A vision of Aizen runs through your mind, haunting you once again.
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I've been in a wistful mood for Aizen as of late... and yes, more Ghost sex hahaha. Thank you for reading! This fic was set to VIQ's "Ghost".
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onskepa · 2 months ago
Text
Left behind: Nice to meet you
Alright everyone! Here is the new chapter to the series! Enjoy~!!
P.S: Timeline will be slightly altered!
Left behind series
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Year 2159 
Quaritch woke up in his bunker-like room. Checking the date from his digital calendar, it's only been a day since he woke up in his new avatar body. His new, permanent body. Funny really, he spent a good chunk of his life trying to rid of the blue aliens and here he was living breathing the skin of his enemy. 
“Quaritch, you are requested by Dr. Sanchez in room B109” a robotic voice was heard from the small speaker in his room. 
Getting up and dressed, a small machine automatically prepared his coffee and breathing mask. 
“Let's get this done,” he says to himself. 
Wearing his mask, he walks out to the long white, cold halls of the establishment. He still needs time to get used to this place. He woke up in his new body 40 days ago. Gotten enough time to get used to his new life. Today was the day he would meet someone. Who? He still doesn't know, the scientists who  watch over his progress were very secretive about it. 
Taking his na’vi size mug with him, Quairtch leaves to visit the doctor.
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The doors opened, it was the doctor himself. Dr. Sanchez looks up at quaritch with an odd grin. “Ah, there you are M. 117” he says. His voice had a bit of a husk, light on an accent that was nowhere near anything latin. Danish perhaps? 
“I prefer to be called Quaritch, doc” quaritch says, though secretly he would like to be better called colonel but he so far holds no authority of any kind in this place. Best thing he can do now is just to comply. Something that irks him just a bit. He was so used to being in control, it makes him feel odd to be the other end of authority. 
“Yes yes, Quaritch” Dr. Sanchez dismisses the comment with a careless wave of his hand. Clapping his hands, the odd doctor then checks in his tablet, grinning to himself. 
“Aha! Right on time! Come come, there is someone who you will meet. She is very important” was he said, and right on cue, the doors opened again to reveal a middle aged woman. Fair in looks, short in stature but the face that demands your utmost attention. Now who could she be? 
“No, not you. Where is she?” Dr. Sanchez whined, a look of obvious disappointment. 
The lady rolled her eyes, “you were just going to have him meet her with no context? Fuck, you are impatient” the lady spoke. Having a British accent but quaritch can tell with the rasp of her voice, she smokes a pack a day. 
The lady walks up to quaritch, extends out her hand, “Name is Tatianna, I am part of a RDA special extension. Part of a team that will oversee the project ‘amazonian’. It is a fairly new project so don't ask about it at this time” she informs. 
Tatianna and quaritch give a firm handshake. 
“Yes ma’am” he nods. Tilting her head, Tatianna takes lead as the three leave the empty room and once again back into the empty, cold halls. The hells on the lady’s shoes were the only sound that was made, echoing throughout the place. From where Qauritch can see, those heels look like they can stab someone with it. 
“How much do you know of project phoenix M. 117?” Tatianna asks, sort of startling him by the sudden burst of her voice. 
Dr. Sanchez taps tatianna’s shoulder, “ehe, he likes to be called ‘Quairtch’” he tells her. The lady looks up at him with a side look, giving a vague hum. They resume walking however. 
“I was told I am the first in this new project. Having memories of my human predecessor while having new perks in this body” quaritch says. He is taller, stronger, has more stamina. He can hear better too. Though there are some slight downsides to his new body. 
“Good, and you are still reporting your adjustments to your director, yes?” Tatianna continues to ask questions. The recom nods. 
“Good, good” was all she said. Pulling out her tablet, she reads some things. 
“Like Dr. Sanchez told you, there is someone you must meet. But before that, there is some stuff you need to hear.This might interest you” 
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“When the RDA employees returned, they all came with many stories of what happened to pandora. How the native there were fighting back, killing and attacking. That there was a ring leader to a battle. How you were in charge of leading them to a certain area. Not only that, but a soldier went ‘full native’ and joined the opposite side to fight. Jake Sully they all said. What we would like to hear is how true it is, and what can you tell us from your memories?” 
So that was what it was about. 
Surprised they didn't ask him any sooner. 
Rubbing his chin, Quaritch begins to recall what he can. 
“Well it is true. A good chunk of it. I was a colonel, protecting those under my wings. I did say in every briefing that while it was my job to make sure they stay alive, I won't succeed. Pandora is a hell of its own ma’am. Those na’vi, they are no easy target” 
Tatianna pulls up a photo of human and avatar Jake sully. This made quaritch make a grim expression, new, or old, memories came flooding in. That little shit ruined everything he worked hard for. Ruined the possibilities for humanity. 
“Oooohh seems some anger arose” Dr. Sanchez teases. 
“More than anger…” Quaritch growls, his tail flicking side to side. 
Tatianna presses a record button on a device she held in her hand, “start talking” 
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Dr. Sanchez took the recording and left somewhere. 
That left Tatianna alone with quaritch. Good, she didn't need that weird doc around the recom and mess with his feelings. 
But they got what they needed, now it's time to take the major part of the plan. 
“I hope what you said is true, if this jake sully really did betray humanity, this can make a huge case that will reach the world leaders” tatianna informs. She leads him to a new area of the facility. 
“I don't mind, all I want miss, is to get my hands on that little shit” the recom says. Already letting his murderous fantasy run wild. Ways to hurt him, torture him, kill him. 
“You will, in time. While we make the case, there is someone very important you will meet. Just step through here, she is waiting for you” 
She gestures to the recom to enter a doorway that opens itself. He goes inside as she follows. 
Inside was a little girl, from quaritch’s eyes, a young teen. She looked up, shock and fear instantly filled in her oddly familiar blue eyes. 
“Ssshhhh, its ok. This is miles quaritch. The man I told you about” tatianna comforts the young girl in a soothing tone. She walks over to the child, rubbing her back. The recom observes the interaction. The young girl looked frail, almost having a creepy hollow look. Dark bags under her eyes, did this kid get enough sleep? 
“He knows your father, why dont you introduce yourself?” Tatianna encourages” 
Quaritch bends down to meet the child’s eye level. 
“H-hi….” the child whispers. Qauritch gives her space to talk more. 
“I h-heard you know my dad…? His name is jake sully, im his daughter”
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Well ain't this a bitch. 
“You’re kidding me” quaritch looks at the lady in disbelief. 
“I'm not, this is not a joke. This is serious "Tatianna narrows her eyes at him. Did he really think this is some humor? 
“The hell is going on exactly? I was just spouting wanting sully’s blood and here you are presenting me with his spawn” he growls. Seeing the child certainly brought chills down his long spine. Her eyes, of all things to have of her crippled father, why did it have to be his blue eyes? It was like Jake was staring directly at him. Made quaritch want to vomit. 
“She has a name you know” tatianna pointed out. 
“The hell with her name, sully alone is enough for me. What the hell is really going on little missy? And tell me the truth lady” his patience was growing thin. Not liking the situation, not one bit. 
“She knows” 
Quairtch and Tatianna both turn to see Dr. Sanchez standing a few feet from them. Holding a little holographic picture of Jake sully. 
“Know what? Stop with these riddles you two are spewing out” recom says. 
Dr. Sanchez chuckled, how much the recom hated that chuckle. 
“Poor poor little sully. She knows what her dad did, his crimes. How many people he killed. She is in denial, refusing to see the truth” Sanchez explained. His beady eyes staring up at the recom. Already getting the hint. 
 “so…I'm to tell her the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth,” quaritch stated. It wasn't even a question. His predecessor mentioned some things in the video. Knew the words human quaritch said to jake. The taunting, using his kid against him.
Wait, using little sully against jake? 
The more the recom thought about it, the more tempting it was sounding. 
“Very well, I will break the news to her”
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The doors slid open again, and once again the strange tall blue man entered the room. Little Sully was still weirded out by his appearance. In her school, one of her favorite teachers would endlessly talk about the planet pandora and the alien life there. The na’vi. Sharing all there is to know. Seeing pictures was one thing, but to see one right in front of her? It was amazing, even if it was an avatar. 
“Listen umm…Sorry about suddenly exiting like that. You caught me off guard kiddo” the avatar said. 
“Let's start over, yeah? I'm Miles quaritch, what's your name?” he asks. 
Little Sully said her name, barely above a whisper. 
“Pretty name,” he responded. 
“Did you know my dad or not?” straight to the point. Guess there is no reason to go easy. 
Quaritch gave a bitter look, nodding his head. 
“Yeah, yeah I knew him. Worked for me actually. Took your father under my wing when he joined. He looked like a lost puppy. He stood out a lot, aside from being in a wheelchair. Was a good man” he listed. 
“Was….” little sully repeated. 
“He is not dead, as far as I know,” quaritch said quickly, not wanting her to have the wrong idea. 
“Then why are you saying stuff in past tense…?” she asks. 
He has to choose his words very carefully. 
“The news, my school, everyone is saying my dad is a traitor, that he killed hundreds of humans. Everyone is calling him names. Please tell me the truth. Please tell me that he is not a killer, that it's all a mistake! He p-promised me he would come back…!! He swore…!!!” 
The more she spoke, the more her voice cracked, her expression changing to that of sad desperation. Quaritch sees it as an open window. 
“I'm sorry, there really is no way to say this in the softest way” he began to say. 
“Your dad did kill people. Hundreds doesn't begin to cover the real numbers. He went what we call, ‘full native’. It means humans betraying their own species for that of another. In this case, the na’vi. Your dad believes he is one of them. He declared war against humans. Because of the crimes he committed, your dad is now residing permanently in Pandora as a na’vi. He would be called a fugitive but that is yet to confirm. Im sorry, but your dear ol’daddy broke his promise” 
He wasnt even lying. 
It really was the truth. 
Little sully let out a loud wail of cries, tears traveling down her face. Her voice high pitched. Grabbing her hair, shouting ‘no no no!’ over and over. 
Quaritch did feel bad for her, but there is a sickening twist in him. Enjoying her misery and pain. Oh the things he can fill her head with. 
“HE PROMISED!! HE PROMISED ME…!!! SULLYS STICK TOGETHER!!” she cried out. Clinging onto the cold floor. 
Slowly, quaritch gently patted her back. He had to comfort her in some way, to not make it look like he is heartless. 
“I know I am only making it worse but…kid, it's almost impossible to keep a promise. Your dad was given a ticket to get the hell out of earth. They gave him a clean new body, with legs that don't slow him down. You are a big kid, think about it. Did you think your dad would come back after one hell of a deal?” 
“B-but-” little sully tried to argue back. 
“But he promised, you were such a small kid, you were at the age where you believed anything was possible. Kid, this is reality. Your dad left you. He isn't coming back, not after the mess he did” 
The young girl stopped her crying, only sniffles were heard. She looks down at the floor, taking in what quaritch said. 
“Hey, its not the end though. Im on a mission you see, and I could use your help..” he begins to say. 
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Tatianna was seeing their interaction but was mildly annoyed. 
“Can you STOP with that god awful chewing?” she hisses out at Dr. Sanchez who was innocently enjoying a snack. 
“Sheesh, you are mother than my ma” he says with his mouth full. 
Tatianna rolls her eyes and continues to view the recom and the sully girl. 
“So, what do you think, boss lady?” Sanchez asks. 
Tatianna observes the two, analyzing their movements, their choices of words. Everything. 
“I say today will be the first day to launch the two projects, Project phoenix and project iron. We begin the experiments at once” 
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Aaaaaaaaand that is it for this chapter! Hope you all like it! Until next time! See ya!
Like the story? Click here to put your name for the next update!
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urlonelystarrr · 1 year ago
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ultraviolence
rk800 'connor' x reader x rk900 'nines'
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GENRE → angst, romance
SYNOPSIS → your feelings for connor grew as the android revolution went on, though a new partner makes you question your feelings.
TAGS/WARNINGS → descriptions of corpses, blood, death, angst, crime scenes
CHAPTERS → PART ONE / PART TWO
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you could never get used to the smell of rotting flesh. the scent was overbearing, a particular smell that could only be compared to meat gone bad in your fridge. the scent was much stronger than expired meat, however you managed to push through it. crime scene after crime scene, they each had their own story to tell. and even though your sharp detective skills could figure out what happened, this case seemed to throw you off balance.
androids were something you were unfamiliar with. so far you've only dealt with human on human crimes, but never human and android. as you stepped into the rotting house, the first thing you noticed were the words "I AM ALIVE" written in the victims blood on the wall, right above where said victim laid. the smell lingered in the air, so much that whenever you went home you'd wash your clothes twice with the fear of that smell seeping into your clothing. the victims home was cluttered and messy, expected as nobody had been taking care of the home for weeks. as you examined the living area, you noticed blood leading into the kitchen. following the trail, it stopped in front of the flipped over table, which indicated that there has been a struggle between the victim and the android. there was always more to the story other than the android going rogue all of a sudden and attacking it's owner, and even the thought of a person owning someone who has a conscious didn't sit right with you.
that being said, it led you back to where you started: I AM ALIVE. the words repeated in your head like a broken record. you had an idea of what it meant. maybe the android wanted to tell people that they aren't just machines, that they're more than just wires and whatever else they were made of. the sound of the front door opening caught your attention, and you were met with lieutenant anderson's face along with someone you didn't recognize.
"jesus that smell!" the lieutenant's face scrunched up into that of disgust, before officer collins gave him a short briefing on what had happened. the person that he was with was an android, judging by his LED that circled amber as he analyzed the scene. "you'll get used to it," you replied to hank, to which he shook his head. you looked over to his partner, holding your hand out for him to shake. "hello. my name is y/n," you smiled. he shook your hand, "my name is connor." ah, so that was his name. hank didn't seem too pleased with his partner as he rolled his eyes, walking away with another officer, leaving you two alone. connor squat down in front of the corpse, his LED circling amber once again as he scanned the body. "he was stabbed 28 times," he said, standing up. "yeah, seems like whoever did this was tired of him." you commented before heading into the kitchen with the android. you didn't know what he was looking at, but his eyes were trained on the floor, despite nothing being there. "what are you looking at?" you asked him, stopping shortly once he stood between the table and the sink. "thirium. you call it 'blue blood'. it's the fluid that powers androids biocomponents." well, the more you know. "so...humans can't see it but you can?"
"correct." he looked over to you, before walking off to the backyard. there were some parts you had yet to explore, so you went down the hall and made a right into a small but cluttered bathroom. pulling back the shower curtain was slightly ominous, as if you expected the android to jump out at you. but what you saw was more intriguing. ra9 was written on the wall multiple times, along with a statuette in the middle of the shower floor. "could it be some type of religious offering?" connor's voice said behind you, making you jump from his sudden appearance. "how long have you been standing there?" you asked, and you noticed his eyes were looking at your chest. "not very long. your heart is racing," he commented. "because you scared me," you rolled your eyes, before turning around to pick up the statue. "anyway, i think it could be a religious offering like you said, judging by the phrase written on the wall a thousand times, it could be an offering to whoever ra9 is." intrigued by your analysis, he noticed something strange. a trail of thirium, coming from the kitchen and stopping right in front of the shower. then, leading to the attic. "think he's up there?" not many people used pronouns when referring to androids, most of them said "it" rather than calling them he or she. it was the first cop he'd heard use that. "only one way to find out."
grabbing a chair for him, he thanked you before going up the attic. you'd be scared shitless, though androids didn't necessarily have emotions. connor probably felt the same as he did when he showed up. hank came over once he noticed connor was up there for too long, shouting for him. "connor! the fuck are you doing up there?!"
connor replied quickly. "it's here, lieutenant!" shit. the two of you ran to grab the attention of the other officers.
everything was moved to the station. you, connor, gavin and chris watched as hank tried interrogating the suspect. to no avail, he came back shortly after, until connor offered to question him. gavin laughed, making you cock your brow at him. "what's funny? connor has a better chance at getting answers than any of us. he knows more about deviants than we do," you crossed your arms, making gavin scoff and ignore you. connor looked at you with an unrecognizable emotion, before heading into the room.
there was no doubt that he would be successful, as the suspect confessed that he did in fact murder carlos ortiz, and claimed self defense. physical evidence showed clear signs of abuse - burn marks stretching over a year old, and so on. you honestly pitied him. maybe that's why you came to the cell he was being held in, keeping your distance to avoid causing unwanted stress. he barely looked up as you tried to get his attention. "i believe you," you started off, until he cut you off. "it doesn't matter. i'm going to get shut down." his broken voice tore your heart apart, and you didn't want to make any promises that he'd be kept alive. but you also couldn't sit there and do nothing.
"i'm going to try to convince them not to shut you off. carlos attacked you first, but in detroit law your act of self defense was deemed excessive- which is why they're treating this as homicide. i really do feel for you, i don't want your abuse to be the only memory you have of this life."
he looked up at you with a pained expression, as if he believed what you were saying wasn't true. as if you were trying to lure him into a trap. he didn't say anything, and went back over to the wall where he continued carving something into. you noticed his cuffs were still on. his head turned upon hearing the door slide open, and he backed up to the corner with his hands raised, which made you stop in your tracks. "can i remove the cuffs?" your voice was gentle, and you spoke as if you were speaking to a frightened child. he placed his hands in front of you, visibly shaking as you gently pried them off.
the moment he was brought to the station, he'd been treated inhumane. the officers shoved him around, holding him down to place cuffs on him in the interrogation room, and even when he was trying to leave the room, they were rough. not you though. from the moment you saw him, you didn't look at him with judgement. he felt like he could trust you, the only problem was that he didn't want to. even as your fingers gently brushed his wrists to remove the cuffs, he didn't want to feel comforted by your calming nature. your eyes were trained on his damaged forearm, guilt swallowing you whole as you looked at him. tears pricked at your eyes as you tried to hold in the sympathy you felt for the android. you didn't know why you felt so strongly- this was unusual. he noticed your eyes watering and felt a little more trust. "you don't deserve this," you said, your voice wavering. "i'm going to try to get you better, okay?" you looked up at him, your hands holding his. the trembling stopped. he nodded, prompting you to exit the cell, leaving him alone.
locking yourself in the restroom, you took deep breaths in order to calm yourself. the moment you stepped out, the sound of multiple officers shouting caught your attention.
you quickly ran to the source, skin prickled with goosebumps as you heard a thudding sound. the sight of thirium splattered onto the clear cell door made you cry out, pushing past officers to stop the deviant from self destruction. you immediately put your hand in between his forehead and the glass. "stop it!" you yelled, pulling him away gently, where he laid in your lap, thirium leaking onto your clothes. you covered the wound on his head with your hand, tears leaking down your face as he died in your arms.
"you know what they're going to do to me," he said to you, the words not being loud enough for any officer except for you. you clutched him harder, watching as he gave a small smile before laying still in your arms.
"are you alright, detective?" connor asked you, noticing the thirium all over your clothes, and your reddened eyes. "i don't understand. it's our job to protect people, not let these things happen to them." you sat on top of your desk, your head turning to look at the android being carried into the archive room. they didn't even see him as a dead body. just evidence to be hung up on the wall. something twisted in your gut.
"it's not a person. it's a machine," he corrected, rather machine-like. you sniffled, "he was more than that. you're more than that- all of you."
he titled his head, something he did often. he was going to say something before hank cut him off. "it's dead...that's for sure." your head hung low, eyes trained on the ground as everything around you faded. any noise was drowned out by the vicious thoughts in your head, the guilt clawing up your throat. you wouldn't be able to sleep tonight.
when you came into the office the next morning, you noticed a certain android sitting in the lieutenant's seat. "good morning," you greeted connor. his presence indicated that he was going to be here for a while, until everything would clear up. you doubted it would ever clear up, though having connor around for a while didn't seem too bad. "good morning detective. do you know what time lieutenant anderson arrives?" he asked, tilting his head. you didn't know if there were any other rk units, but you wondered if all of them were this cute. "usually around noon. I don't think he'll be coming anytime soon though," you bit your lip. "thank you." he replied, standing up to walk elsewhere, until you stopped him. "would you like me to show you around? maybe it's best if we get to know each other," you said warmly.
he smiled and nodded, following as you showed him around the police department. you stopped in front of the archive room, explaining to him what was in there, even though he probably already knew. "most cops here are very anti-android, so please be careful. speaking of which..." you muttered the last part under your breath as gavin entered the break room, immediately looking over at the much taller figure standing next to you as you made a cup of coffee. "huh, looks like plastic detective's back in town," he sneered. you grit your teeth, shooting him a glare. "hello. my name is connor," he greeted. he gave an amused look at his partner, who shared the same look as gavin came closer to the rk model. "I don't give a shit what your name is. you might've gotten lucky last night, but I'm warning you. stay outta my way," he poked a finger into his chest, his gaze sharp and full of anger. you stepped in between the two, causing gavin to stumble slightly as you gripped his finger and threw his arm back to him. "we get it. you're insecure. move along now, surely you have more work to do other than lounging in the break room all day." he scowled, about to press you when fowler shouted gavin's name from the bullpen. "you're fuckin' lucky fowler called me in when he did," he said, not before shoulder checking you as he walked out.
you groaned, running a hand through your hair. "are you alright detective?" connor asked again. "i should be asking you that. i'm sorry about him." you apologized, squeezing his arm gently.
the sensation lingered on his arm, even as he searched for the missing ax400. "connor! jesus, i'm talking to you. you ran outta batteries or what?" hank yelled, after calling connor's name for the last few minutes. "i'm sorry lieutenant. i was making a report to cyber life," he lied. hank scoffed, continuing to search the motel.
it had been a couple of months since the revolution, led by markus and a group of androids. connor had fully deviated, and with the new android laws he was allowed to remain working at the dpd. since then, the two of you had gotten closer. you saw more and more of connor's personality after working with him for so long. you'd be lying if you said you didn't have any feelings for the android. sure, it was dumb, and also forbidden. you doubted he shared any of the same feelings, though a part of you wished he'd reciprocate them.
he found it strange your heart rate would increase whenever he was around you. you hadn't done that before. he also sensed that your body temperature would increase if he got too close, and all of this analysis only confused him more. his relationship with the lieutenant has improved greatly, as well as yours.
the three of you hung out after work, frequently at a bar. you didn't drink, so it was mostly you and connor babysitting a very drunk hank.
with more and more cases involving androids pouring in, you were being overworked. you didn't have a partner, but if you needed help connor would offer to help you when he was available. even so, you couldn't rely on him when he already had his hands full. the only problem was that there was nobody else working these cases that would be your partner. despite gavin being anti android and still working in these cases, you'd rather get paralyzed from the waist down than work with him.
fowler noticed inconsistencies in your work recently, which was why he was shouting your name from across the bullpen to call you into his see through office. "look, i know you've got a lot on your hands. but i can't keep letting you slide. your work has been inconsistent l/n." he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "you've gotta give me some time- i've been staying past office hours trying to finish everything. if I had a partner i'd be getting a lot more work done and solved." you explained.
he sighed, "alright. I'll see what I can do. just- in the meantime, will you please focus on your work?" you nodded, standing up before leaving his office.
it actually didn't take you too long before you had a partner. "cyberlife was generous enough to give me one of the most advanced androids in their possession, an rk900. now, i expect you to give me quality reports, and to solve your cases." you thanked him, before leaving his office and returning to your desk. hank and connor were out on a mission, otherwise you'd be telling them first. you waited at your desk, browsing some files when you felt the presence of somebody behind you. you swiveled your chair around to see an exact replica of connor, with a few different features. besides his white pristine jacket, you noticed his eyes were grey instead of brown. he looked much more intimidating than his counterpart. and he might've even been taller, though it was hard to judge considering you were sitting down.
"you're detective l/n, correct?" even the way he talked was different. his voice was similar to his predecessor, however there was something that distinguished him and the rk800. he sounded more authoritative in a way. "yes, you must be my partner?" you stood up to shake his hand, which he stared at for a few seconds before lifting up his own. his grip was strong, you noted. "yes. it would be best to get to work right away. is there a desk anywhere?"
you nodded, pointing to the vacant desk in front of you. he sat down, being quick to work as he browsed the many cases that you had. you saw his LED circle amber, indicating he was analyzing all of the current information. "do you have a name?" you asked, making eye contact with him before looking away. "no." well, he was very direct. "we should give you one," you suggested. he stared at you before responding vaguely, "i don't see how this relates to the investigation." you shrugged, "well, it would be more efficient to call out something other than your model number, in case of an emergency." a look flashed in his eye before he responded quickly, as if he expected you to say that. "there won't be any emergencies as long as you're with me."
you were caught off guard, and he knew it. from that look of amusement on his face, you reacted just as he expected. your skin flushed as you looked away, trying to hide your flustered state. did he even know how that sounded to humans? "that's sweet." you replied. "i didn't intend for it to be."
what was his problem? you ignored his comment and stood up, coming over to his side of the desk. "can you find the most recent case involving an attack with an android for me?" you asked, leaning over him slightly. his eyes avoided looking at your cleavage that was exposed, and he fought the urge to point out your violation of dress code. "did you need to stand up to tell me this?" he asked, before searching for a file. you chuckled a little bit, amused by his strange sense of humor. even if it didn't mean to come off as humorous, you still found it funny. your computer chimed with the case file, and you browsed it before grabbing your coat. "i think this will be a good start to our investigation," you said, grabbing your keys as well. he followed you to the parking lot, waiting for you expectantly as you forgot to unlock the passenger door. "oops, sorry," you unlocked the passenger side, waiting until he was fully inside before driving off.
"julia nichols, the wife of anthony nichols reported that her android had killed her husband before disappearing," you went over briefly. "i know." rk900 replied, looking over at you for a moment before turning his head back to the road. "right, you're the one who gave me the file," you said in defeat.
the two of you arrived at the scene shortly after other officers started to show up, and immediately you could tell something was off.
"her story isn't adding up," you said to rk900 as he analyzed the shared bedroom. "i agree. there's information that she's hiding from us. her heart rate spikes up and so does her body temperature." he said as if it was the most normal thing ever. the way you looked at him was proof that humans would never be able to surpass their greatest creation. the rk900 looked around more, peering into the closet to find a wooden box, with the outline of a hunting knife that appeared to be missing. "that's strange," you commented, before interjecting with another random thought that came to mind.
"does that mean you can see my heart rate too?" your curiosity and fascination with something so ordinary to him definitely fueled his ego a little bit. "yes." he stepped closer until he was two feet away from you. "i can see everything," he leaned down just enough for you to be eye to eye with him. the increased heart rate told him all he needed to know, and he left the room, leaving you speechless.
you tried to ignore whatever that was earlier by inspecting the gruesome crime scene. the pictures were always different in comparison to real life. seeing an image versus the actual remains of a human was a drastic change.
the murder took place a few hours or so ago, leaving a 15 minute time gap between the wife's distressed 911 call, and the amount of time it took for officers to respond to the call. judging by the blood splatter patterns, the android would've been seen with blood all over her clothing. unlike humans, androids don't feel pain. despite not being susceptible to damage, the android would most likely have a part of their hand damaged because of the amount of force needed to tear through tissue and muscles. it would definitely leave an injury.
with this information in mind, you were quick to note the slight injury on the wife's right hand.
you didn't believe a word she said. however, you played it off like you believed her and that she wasn't the main suspect. rk900 scanned the husbands corpse that was laid out on the kitchen floor. there was a key detail that any other officer would miss out on, not because they weren't observant enough, but because they weren't an android. rk900 found traces of thirium on the kitchen sink. what looked like fingers gripping onto the counter, and a splatter that was across from the fingers, with little droplets leading him into the basement of the home. he stood in front of the door, about to head downstairs when he felt you behind him. "don't go down there. i have a bad feeling about it," you gripped his wrist, stopping him from moving any further. "you underestimate me, detective. i'm rk900, the most advanced android ever made. if i couldn't handle a human, what kind of detective would i be?" he tugged his hand free from your grip, which didn't take much effort at all. you swallowed nervously as he headed down the steps, following after him. he stopped in his tracks when he felt your weight on the steps behind him. "i advise you not to stand in my way. i can handle this myself," he said, staring at you like you were some child interfering with adult business. you held your tongue, and retreated upstairs to look for anything else.
rk900 didn't bring up the fact that he saw blue blood in the kitchen. not only did that raise suspicion, but it also kept valuable information from you.
you examined the kitchen once more, coming over to where the husband laid, lifeless. you noticed that the knife in question that he was stabbed with was nowhere to be found. even the officers that first responded to the scene said that they hadn't found the weapon. the wife also stated that she did not see where the weapon landed, only when it was being used. but that didn't make sense, why would the android run off with the murder weapon if they knew there wouldn't be any fingerprints?
"excuse me, miss nichols? were you able to tell what type of knife it was?" you asked the wife who had come back inside after being questioned. "it was a kitchen knife." she replied coolly. which was strange, considering the circumstances. a chill ran up your spine as you realized you made a grave mistake. "none of the knives are missing except for your husband's hunting knife," you said.
as rk900 analyzed the basement for any more traces of blue blood, he stumbled upon a container filled with blue blood, next to a black garbage bag that contained a heavy smell. he scanned it, then again, and again to make sure what he was seeing was correct. the blood in the container belonged to the hk400, and it matched the same sample from the kitchen. he pried open the bag, only to see a faint blue light humming, and then the hk200's dismembered corpse inside.
the woman paused, looking at you before lunging at you with the said knife. "shit! nines!" you yelled, trying to gather the android's attention while trying to keep yourself alive. you slipped on the blood, causing you to hit your head on the tiled floors of the kitchen, and she was on top of you in an instant. you fought with her, knocking down chairs to gather the attention of anybody. she managed to cut your arm, staining your white blouse with red, but you managed to switch positions until you were the one on top. using your forearm, you held her down by the chest while using your free hand to slam the knife out of her own. "fuck. nines!" you yelled again, relief flooding your body as footsteps rushed up the stairs, and rk900 was quick to enter the scene. while you were distracted, she was able to grab the knife and cut your stomach, but you were quick and held the blade before it could fully penetrate. he kicked the knife out of her hands, quick to point his gun while you held her down. "don't move or I'll shoot!" he raised his voice slightly, kneeling down to reach into your holster to grab your handcuffs. it felt weird having his fingers shove themselves into your belt, but you tried not to focus on the rough brush of his knuckles so close to you.
she was quickly apprehended by your partner, immediately being sat in the back of a police car. you sat on the floor with your back against a few cupboards, your hand clutching your stomach. you looked like a bloody mess. your arm was stained red, your abdomen leaked red all over your blouse, and your hand was drenched in a mixture of your own blood and the victims.
rk900 rushed to your side, scanning your body to see what injuries you had. thankfully none of them were fatal, but this still was a drawback on his end. "you okay?" you asked, despite being the one bleeding out. "i told you, i can handle myself." you nodded, "so what did you find in the basement?"
he sighed, or gave an equivalent to that. "you need medical attention before we can discuss the details," he held his hand firmly against your abdomen, adding the correct pressure that was needed to stop the bleeding. you winced, gritting your teeth at the burning sensation. you didn't say anything, the two of you waited in silence as an ambulance rushed to the home.
it wasn't a part of his mission to follow you to the hospital, but he did anyway. you had left your keys on the floor, which he picked up and cleaned before using your car to follow the ambulance.
after you were all bandaged up, you headed to the front desk where you signed out. you turned around, seeing the familiar pristine white jacket of the rk900, sitting in the wait room. he sat with his hands in his lap, and it was oddly cute seeing someone so intimidating look so small. as he stood up, you were quickly reminded that he wasn't cute and tiny. "why are you here?" you asked with a smug look on your face. "to return your keys," he replied. you chuckled, "sure. well, let's get out of here," you had walked to the parking lot, waiting for him to lead the way as you had no idea where he parked. "give me the keys," you said. "no. that would be a hazard for both of us. i'm driving," he said as he sat gracefully in the driver's seat. you wondered if you looked that good getting into your car.
"now that I've gotten medical attention, what did you end up finding in the basement?" you asked, looking over at the android who was driving even faster than you. "the missing hk200. it was dismembered and thrown into a garbage bag. next to it was a pitcher of its blood." you grimaced, "so it didn't run away after all. the wife definitely killed her husband and framed the android, but why? I mean why kill someone you were married to?" the android went silent for a moment, before telling you something that definitely would've helped. "I didn't mention this to you because I thought it wasn't relevant information, but when we were inside the room, I found his phone and saw evidence of him having an affair. that could've been a reason why she did it."
you froze, staring at him with a mixture of anger and hopelessness. "why would you keep that from me? even if it doesn't seem useful at the moment, you could've told me." you looked angry but you didn't sound angry. there was something in your tone that sounded like despair. you didn't underestimate his abilities when it came to defending himself, you just didn't want him to put himself into dangerous situations just because he can. in a way you were looking out for him without looking out for yourself. now wasn't the right time to say you were worried when you ended up proving him right; you were in his way. "I'm sorry, detective. I should also bring up that I found traces of blue blood in the kitchen." his tone was different from before. it sounded like he almost regretted his actions. you stayed silent this time. he underestimated your abilities, not because he was looking out for you but because you were weaker than him. that only would interfere with his work. it made you sad to say the least.
you dreaded reporting back to fowler, knowing he'd take rk900's side on this and probably fire you for letting the situation get out of control. you dreaded hearing what he'd have to say. you knew this was your fault, a loss on your end, only proving that you weren't good enough to be a detective. you sat across from Fowler, already sensing his anger and disappointment. rk900 stood behind you with his hands clasped behind his back, his face devoid of any emotion as he watched Fowler start to yell at you. "I give you one of the most advanced partners you can have, and you come back like this?! it doesn't matter that you solved the case! you let the situation get out of control. if I have to tell you to tighten the hell up again, then you're out of my office l/n. be like your partner."
rk900 looked down at you as you avoided meeting anyone's gaze. he didn't want to admit it, but he felt partly responsible for withholding information that could've given you a better outcome. you sat at your desk, avoiding his gaze as you typed away on your computer. the blood was still there on your shirt. you tried to cover it with your coat, but it was useless. the amount of blood on you made him feel guilty. if he just told you what he found, you wouldn't have gotten hurt. he was about to say something when you stood up, and excused yourself. he saw you talking to Connor, making eye contact with the rk800 before he went back to his conversation with you. were you complaining about him to his counterpart? the thought of that angered him, but he remained calm as he didn't know what you were saying. you left to the bathroom, while his predecessor came towards his desk.
"you're partners now," he said. rk900 didn't reply, he just looked at Connor until he said something else. "what's surprising is that she's not mad at you. she feels the opposite, that you're mad at her," he explained. rk900 stood up, looking over to the bathrooms where you were in. "that wasn't my intention-"
"then fix it." Connor said, walking back to his desk. his LED flashed red briefly, before returning to the steady blue it always was. he hated seeing you hurt. he was worried his counterpart would be too careless. sometimes he wished he could be your partner, in a work sense but also in another way he couldn't define. he wouldn't let you get injured like that. he just hoped rk900 would recognize his mistake.
it seemed like crying at work started to become a habit of yours as this was the second time you've done it. you didn't know what to do. you felt like you didn't belong here. since your first day, you've felt out of place. and now, the feeling came on worse than before. when fowler yelled at you to be more like your partner, suddenly it felt like your mom comparing you to a classmate that you could never be like. working here reminded you of when you were a kid, when you came home crying wondering why nobody wanted to play with you. was it always going to be like this? your tears ran down the drain again, and you wiped your eyes and blew your nose before trying to go back out again.
someone entering the restroom quickly made you pretend as if nothing was wrong, but when you met those same grey eyes in the mirror, you couldn't help but to lower your head.
"when you were calling me for help, you called me 'nines'. is that correct?" he asked you. your brows furrowed as you tried to piece what he was trying to allude to. "yes, is it okay if I can call you that?" you said, turning around only to find him closer than you anticipated. "mhm," he said lowly, "i like it. you can call me nines from now on." the corners of your mouth upturned slightly as you said it out loud once more. "I like it too."
he didn't know how to apologize without making it sound like connor told him everything. "I should have been more...efficient. I should have told you the information I found instead of keeping it to myself." you smiled a little bit at him, before remembering what he had told you. "it's okay nines. i never underestimated you, i just...didn't want you to put yourself in danger." unfortunately, he couldn't say the same. the words were clogged in his artificial throat as he tried to gather a correct response. but the look in your face told him that you already knew. "i know nines. if you feel that I stand in your way, don't be afraid to ask for a replace-"
"no." the word was out before he could even think about it. it caught both of you off guard, but he was quick to correct himself. "I apologize for what I said in the basement. if it weren't for you, we wouldn't have found the culprit. I regret what I said, I hope we can move past this and become better partners." you would've started crying again, but you felt too happy to even consider it. "I hope we can move past this too. after all, you are my partner," you smiled, patting his arm.
the police department wasn't bustling with police officers as many of them had gone home, which was something you were thankful for as nobody would question why you just walked out of the same bathroom with your male partner. just imagine the rumors. connor was glad to see you smiling again, and came over before he and hank left home. "are you heading home?" you asked the brown eyed rk unit. after being with nines all day, you missed connor. "yes. i hope that you get well soon, detective." he scanned you one last time, just to make sure that you were alright. "I will be. take care of yourself connor," you smiled before hugging the android goodnight. if anyone else was here, there would be rumors of you fucking both the rk models. you hadn't hugged him before, but it was definitely something he'd get used to. his arms wrapped around your waist gently, not to hurt you. he rested his chin on your shoulder, his sensors going haywire from the warmth surrounding his body. as well as the smell of you, and your hands rubbing his lower back. if he could get goosebumps he probably would have them right now, as the feeling was similar. nines watched your interaction with curiosity. he had access to connor 's memories but never found anything intimate, or anything to suggest the two of you had a relationship outside of work. he must have been very close to you, as your body went from being tensed to completely relaxed.
after connor had left and you made some final reports about the case, it was time for you to go home. you stretched your back, wincing when you felt your injury move underneath the bandage. "are you alright, detective?" nines asked. you smiled, despite them being two different people with different personalities, there were some things they did that mimicked one another. "I am. I think I'm done for the night." you stood up, and grabbed your coat. nines did the same, though he didn't need to grab anything except for his keys. "nines?" you called out, looking over to him only to find he was already looking at you. "yes?"
"are you comfortable with me hugging you?" it was strange. you seemed confident hugging connor but you looked shy when asking him. it made him feel a way he couldn't describe. despite being deviant, these emotions were still new to him, as connor had time to adapt to these new feelings, he didn't have much of an experience. he paused for a second, before nodding his head. you wrapped your arms around his abdomen, your hands rubbing the same lower portion of his back that you did when you hugged connor. reluctantly, he wrapped his arms around you, his sensors taking in the sensation crawling up his spine. since deviation, he was able to feel more things for some reason. that meant his pleasure receptors were stronger than they'd be if he was just in his program, but right now he felt something he'd never felt before. it was a good feeling, to be wrapped with a warm pressure. now he understood why humans loved hugging each other.
you pulled away to his distaste, walking out with him to your car. you didn't know what you just started, but you knew it would be tough to handle your feelings for both of the androids.
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a/n: before you ask, yes there will be a part two. I'm not sure how long this might continue, but it depends on how many people will enjoy it. I know the majority of my followers aren't a part of this fan base, but I hope it reaches the right audience ♡
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jumpywhumpywriter · 2 months ago
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Living Weapon Whumpee part 1
Warnings: forced living weapon/fighter, captive whumpee, memory loss, murder mission
Whumpee is a trained killer, a lethal monster forced to fight and pitted against the enemy in the war time and time again... but this time... he's set loose on an innocent town, in a different kind of attack. His mission: leave no survivors.
Whumpee hated it when he was forced to fight and kill. Hated his handlers, his conditioning... hated himself for giving in and being their weapon. Their winning card in every game -- people as pawns.
And today, he hated that he was being set loose yet again, a deadly killer given knives and a mission, pointed in the direction of an enemy town. Though it wasn't an 'enemy', really -- while Whumpee’s handlers usually had him kill soldiers on the battlefield, this time he was to destroy a town full of innocents, of mothers and children sheltering from the war. Whumpee's leader had no morals, and he didn't plan to spare his enemy's wives or children, even if they weren't a part of the battle. He was sending Whumpee to slaughter them all, deal a vicious blow to the enemy in a way Leader couldn't do on the battlefield -- strike where it hurt most, where the grief alone would weaken his enemy's soldiers.
And he'd planned everything so perfectly, sending part of his own army to distract the enemy and give Whumpee a clear path into the town to deal his damage.
Whumpee's orders were clear: kill every living human he saw and crossed paths with -- indiscriminately. Leave none alive.
Fighting on the frontline of war was something Whumpee was trained to do, created and molded and enhanced by chemicals, and he was good at it, strong and mighty and dangerous. While he didn't particularly like killing the soldiers of the enemy, it gave him an outlet, a way to take out his rage and fury at everyone who had chained him in his own mind -- it gave him something to do, a purpose in existing.
But he'd never killed defenseless civilians before. His stomach churned with nausea at the thought, despite his bone-deep conditioning and training instinctively telling him to fight fight FIGHT. Flood the streets with blood. Attack and destroy.
He wasn't normal, he was a freak of nature -- a man taken to a lab, torn apart and put together so many times his skin was almost made of solid scars. They'd done something to him, something to his mind as he was strapped helplessly to a table, injected with unknown chemicals that burned inside him. But he could never remember exactly what, or how they'd managed to erase large parts of memory to make him cold and impassive, the perfect killer to lead armies.
Some nights he tried to remember what his life was like before becoming a living weapon, a walking murder machine. But it always hurt to think too much about it, leaving him frustrated and no closer to answers. So eventually he'd just... given up, accepted his role. And now here he was, in leather stealth suit, armed with blades for slaughter as he marched into the target town he'd been sent to.
He wore a cloak over his suit to hide his weapons, a hood pulled over his head to conceal his scarred face. Everyone in this war knew who he was, the loyal and vicious dog of Leader. A single glance at him would terrify people.
The town he walked into was very small, probably housing only half a hundred people in total -- that would all be dead before the sun set.
Whumpee stalked into the village with the confidence and grace of a lethal warrior, the cloak hardly being enough to hide his identity when any sane person could see from his gait alone that he was a skilled warrior who had survived many battles.
Whumpee's heart began to pound as he successfully reached the center of the village where his killing was to begin, to maximize casualties in case anyone managed to slip away and run -- most of the townsfolk were located in the center. And most would not escape.
Strange, he briefly noted, that his heartbeat quickened, when he had long since tamed it to be steady and sure even in the heat of combat, not to mess with his head or concentration. After all, adrenaline was what made people sloppy, panicked, what made people lose in battle. He had mastered his control over fear so many years ago it was as instinctual as breathing.
And yet, he hesitated. Paused, before drawing his dual daggers from his belt, shedding the cloak like a wolf in sheep's skin and revealing himself for who he was, what he was.
"It's Weapon!!" The alarmed cry came before Whumpee's cloak had even fully slid off. He grimaced at hearing his war-given name. He hated it.
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lemon-russ · 5 months ago
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I made a new blog just to get the worms out of my head put in there by everyone writing bully Cato Sicarius fics. Heavily infected/ inspired by the diplomat/ Cato stuff, I needed to make my own tropey garbage fic.
I blame all of you WH40k smut writers for this. I love you all and you've made me very ill over these murder machines. I must put them in situations.
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Part 1/ ???
part:: 1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7
Cato Sicarius x F!Reader
CW: Violence, blood, I mean it's warhammer I think you get what you pay for there, no sex yet but there will be later, Cato being a bully (mildly honestly)
Summary: Cato is forced to accompany Guilliman's ambassador to a meeting. Things go sideways.
word count: 1,896
Cato walked next to the little diplomat. He hated this. Hated that he was assigned to look after- to babysit- this pompous noble woman.
This whole thing was a waste of his time. He just got back from a mission quelling some rebellion on a random planet in the backwaters of the galaxy. He was already annoyed at how quickly the rebellion was quashed, they did not need to send him, the Knight Champion of Macragg, any random band of Astartes would have handled it.
Then he got home, already in a sour mood, and Guilliman told him maybe he needed a break- a break- and assigned him to escort his little diplomat pet to her next meeting off world. No amount of argument changed his genefather's mind, and he was ordered to “Quit whining and get out of his hair for a moment”.
He didn't want to push his already stressed Primarch further and resigned himself to his fate, three days wasted babysitting this stupid, base human woman. He couldn't stand her, the way she bat her eyes to get people to sway to her opinions, the lavish gowns she insisted on wearing to each meeting, the droning on and on for hours about nothing every time she met with an ambassador she knew. how are the kids, that dress is flattering, I heard your planet had a celebration- it was driving him mad.
Cato watched her walk all prim and proper in a ridiculous trailing gown. A tripping hazard, more like. He smirked a bit as he got an idea, and casually placed his next step on the tail of her dress.
With a small yelp, she fell over, her ridiculous heels not affording her the balance to recover from a sharp snag on her gown. She spilled her papers on the floor and landed in them face first. She looked ridiculous, and he smiled for the first time in weeks. He even let out a chuckle. “Oh my. Careful, Ambassador. That dress is not great for the uncoordinated.” He said with an edge of mocking, playing coy.
She huffed, frowning like an angry little cat as she scrambled to her knees, scooping up her paperwork. “I think I'd be a lot less accident prone if I wasn't being followed by a seven foot tall hazard.” she snapped, scrambling up to her feet and trying to fix her dress.
Cato tried to school his face to not grin at her reaction. “I have no idea what you mean, Ambassador. I simply was following you as always.” he said casually, following again as she stomped back down the corridor.
She was being sent to broker the handover of a planet, giving them a chance to willingly join the glory of the Imperium before they would be recruited by force. They walked down the flagstone halls of an over-pompous but still somehow rundown manor where the leader of this human group insisted on meeting.
He scoffed- a planet who's only excess was stones and sand. Their was nothing they could broker worthwhile, this whole meeting was merely a shakedown to save human lives. Yet the leader of this rock acted like he was doing them a favor by even meeting with them. The arrogance of it all made Cato's anger rise again. He considered tripping the ambassador again to blow off steam, but held off. If he did it too often, the fun would wear out.
She kicked her heels off the flagstone as she agitatedly continued down the corridor to the large double doors to the leaders war room. They were of course, impractically, also made of stone, and requires a turning mechanism to slowly open.
The leader stood at a war table, looking smug and watching them as the doors were slowly opened. They stepped in and Cato was on guard immediately as they started closing the doors behind them. He could push the doors open himself, but it would slow him down if they needed to escape.
The diplomat greeted the Leader, who introduced himself as something Rolfar- he wasn't paying attention, instead still scoping the room. there were small windows in the stone maybe 20 feet up, the stone doors behind them, and then... no other exits. He scowled to himself and stood at attention behind the ambassador, hand itching for his bolter. They'd inadvertently walked into a kill box, if thing went sideways.
The ambassador noticed his distraction and raised a brow, but was pulled back to the discussion. Uhg, more drivel. How are your seasons here? your manor is very impressive, how's your family. He started tuning out again at the mindless small talk. Why can't she ever just get the to the point? Give us your planet or die, boom, done. He should be the ambassador, really.
He snapped out of his inner monologue when he noticed some of the guards around the room exchanging glances. His mouth twitched a frown and his hand slowly came to rest on the hilt of his power sword, the Talassarian.
The ambassador was oblivious as always, laying out papers on the table and talking cheerily to the leader, pointing out resources they would gain access to as part of the Imperium, of course sprinkling in things like how they'll be converting to the Imperial cult in a matter of fact way. The man glanced at a guard near him, giving a slight nod.
That's it, this is all too suspicious now. Cato walked over and put a large hand on the diplomat's shoulder. “Ambassador, could I share a word with you in the hallway-” he started in a low voice, but was interrupted when he saw the soldiers around the room reach for their weapons.
His senses honed. He could think faster, react quicker than baseline humans like these. They hardly twitched toward their rudimentary weapons before he had the diplomat on the floor, bolter out and taking out the first soldier to actually draw his weapon.
Chaos broke out, figuratively of course, and he was forced to actually do his job and protect the stupid woman. It would be fun honestly, tearing through the rebels in a closed death cage, if he wasn't forced to shield the emperor-damned woman beneath him. She was still confused and processing what happening- by the throne she was slow- while he took out a few more of the guards. But for every one he shot, another took a shot at her from the other side, forcing him to move to cover her with his power armor.
He scowled to himself. having to protect her slowed him down enough that they got a foothold, surrounding them, weapons trained on her as they knew they wouldn't touch him. She of course was useless, cowering pathetically against his kneeling body for protection.
well fuck. His hands were tied. That didn't usually happen. “Hands up or we kill the woman!” the soldiers demanded. He let out a sigh and holstered his bolter, hands up. He probably could tear his way out of here, but he wasn't confident he could do it without the ambassador getting shot. stupid woman, some sort of flack armor would be more practical than this stupid flowy dress, and she could at least wear a helmet-
His inner rambling was interrupted by the leader- Randolf? Rolf? -speaking at them smugly. “You thought I would simply roll over and let you interlopers take my world? Your arrogance is astounding” He chuckled with a sneer. Cato considered shooting him, but knew the diplomat woman would be shot for it. He still considered it. No. Lord Guilliman would be mad if he let her die. Uhg, she's ruining everything.
The leader had the ambassador woman taken away first, cuffed and blindfolded. She struggled against them, for a small amount of her credit, but a swift kick from a solider put a stop to it. Cato grimaced. He almost felt bad seeing someone else be mean to her. Probably just because his duty is to stop that though.
“Try that again and I'll turn this room into a red mist.” Cato warned with a glower at the soldier. Guilliman would be more upset if she came back battered, and he'd rather not be punished to anymore menial work. The man who kicked her shivered under his look, and took a step back.
The leader frowned in annoyance at him. “Please, you are in no position to give demands.” He mocked, then walked over and gave the diplomat a firm kick in the ribs, making her yelp and fall over. Before he realized he was moving, he had the man by the collar, and the sound of two dozen weapons readying echoed off the stone walls. The man looked shocked, then terrified, but stuttered out anyway, “Unhand me or the girl turns into a colander.” His voice shook, but the sound of warming up weapons made Cato grit his teeth and lower the man.
as soon as his feet touched stone he scampered away like a cowardly mouse, cowering across the room. “Take her, and keep your weapons on her. I swear if you make one move we'll end her!” He stammered. His soldiers started dragging her out of the room and Cato grit his teeth harder. Fuck. If he'd ignored that, they'd probably have let them leave together, and he could have gotten them out when the doors opened like he planned. Why did he grab that man? Fuck.
He scowled, watching them drag her out the doors, mind scrambling for a new plan. He scoped the room for communication devices. The soldiers carried some, but the room itself had nothing. Okay, he can salvage this, take them out before the vox to their friends, kick down the door, find the girl, get back to the thunderhawk. He can work with that. Thankfully these people were as stupid as they were arrogant, and lacked most advanced defenses and weapons that the Imperium had.
He waited a bit after they took her away, letting them put him in cuffs- wow they really were stupid to think this would hold him- and letting them take his bolter and the Talassarian and put them across the room. He counted in his head as the Leader droned on and on about how his world would not bow to tyrants, same old nonsense everyone spouted when they resisted the Emperor's light. When he was pretty sure the others were out of earshot- he heard them walk away pretty far, baseline humans wouldn't hear the screams- he stood, making the soldiers ready their weapons.
“What are you doing? Sit back down!” The leader demanded, stepping back defensively. Cato snapped the cuffs and smiled. Finally, he could teach these fools the glory of the Emperor's Imperium.
A few minutes later, Cato forced the stone doors open, re-affixing his blood soaked power sword to his hip and adjusting his helmet, flicking his hands and splashing the blood off his gauntlets. Now to just find the stupid woman and hope they didn't already execute her. His genefather would be pissed if she died. And he wouldn't admit it, but the thought gave him an unfamiliar feeling in the pit of his stomach. Probably just dedication to even the most menial duties like this, he decided. Definitely just that.
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angyluffy · 2 years ago
Text
"You can't wake up, this is not a dream
You're part of a machine, you are not a human being
With your face all made up, living on a screen
Low on self-esteem, so you run on gasoline…"
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victoriadallonfan · 9 days ago
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You see Victoria being labeled as a potential Tyrant by Fragile One get brought up sometimes and there are plenty of discussions about her character traits itself could evolve that way… but less so for the actual plot/events go within Ward itself at the time as for what could have gone wrong/what Vicky could have done in the confines of Ward in particular if she went that way? It begs the question what future/events in was Fragile One seeing/thinking could happen?
As the numero uno Victoria understander I’m curious if you’ve thought on it/spotted those potential points of divergence in the text?
That's really what arc 13, 14, and 15 were all about.
Arc 12 primed us with Victoria having a panic attack when Jessica refuses to answer her calls when she needed her most, and Fragile One noting that she could lift Victoria up if she abandoned her morals to enforce her will. Even prior to this, arc 9 had the first thing Goddess offer Victoria was a small country to rule as its leader (and the alignment made Victoria see Goddess as a mentor figure), and arc 8 had Carol warn Victoria to not act as a tyrant and try to impress her will upon the people. Arc 13 has Victoria come face to face with the consequences of her actions in the form of the Exile world, where the villains on the level of Mama Mathers or Cradle are secretly (sort of?? The court and Judges seem to be aware of it??) sent off world to live in the wilderness with camping supplies until they are found legible for parole. It is a dark and heavy scene, with Victoria even putting on a dark mask to emulate Blind Justice that hides her expression.
Except 2 things challenge Victoria: Drillbit and Colt. Victoria does not believe Drillbit should be exiled and says that it feels wrong, but she is paralyzed by what to do, because she doesn't know how else to handle someone who is routinely a danger to others. Drillbit takes this out of her hands and goes through it of his own will, but it bothers her nonetheless.
Colt, however, is a child. She did some pretty shitty things even before she got powers (like trying to help villains kidnap Kenzie) and more after, but she was only 13 AND we know - as does Victoria soon after - that her mind has been damaged by her Shard (quite literally, her interlude describes her Shard as destroying parts of herself). Seeing Colt, and perhaps galvanized by her issues with Drillbit, Victoria says she wants to help Colt and prevent her from the Exile sentencing and tries various roundabout means of doing so (including getting Jessica onto defending Colt's mental state).
Furthermore, Victoria finds her new mask a hindrance. Many times, she remarks that she hates how it hides her expression and makes her feel disconnected from people. She ultimately abandons it even, when she appeals to the supervillains of Earth N in a very human way, and never wears it again.
The rest of the arc also has Victoria slowly have a mental breakdown as Teacher's machinations harms her relationship with Jessica permanently, makes her paranoid about what Kenzie thinks of her, makes her see the worst of heroes and villains, and feels as though all the hard work she's put in saving the city has been for nothing. By the end of arc 13, she is a bawling mess who is desperate for any way to feel like she has done something good, which leads to her helping give Sveta a humanoid body.
Arc 14 follows 13 pretty much directly, with Victoria both faking and not faking how upset she is with the public that they fell for Teacher's manipulations, but also that people like Gary Nieves are victim blaming and helping engage terrorists in gaining power. Much of the debate between her, her team, and Gary is representative of how Victoria wants to connect with the public, convince them with facts and explanations, but feels as though there is a deep divide between what they want and what is reality. She even darkly considers simply ignoring them and their complaints forever.
However her stay at Shin and being abused by their jail and government, at the threat of them killing millions of innocent people, has her realize that she doesn't believe she could just ignore them. That if worse came to worse, she'd sacrifice her own well-being and endure this abuse and her rapists machinations for the betterment of others.
Arc 15 is actually pretty simple in how it shoves Victoria's in a face to face conflict with a real tyrant: he is someone who has taken over a planet, has enforced his will upon others, and is convinced that only he has the right answers. She is around to hear other characters discuss how lifeless and without any human care his own buildings are. He treats people as disposable tools and weapons, forcing Victoria to commit grisly killings and see the deaths of hundreds of good people and even more that were mind-controlled. Her own teammates are broken mentally, crippled, and a potential love interest killed by the epitome of Tyranny.
I think this is pretty much where Victoria abandons all potential of putting herself "in charge" so to speak, and the Tyrant possibility is put to bed forever. There is no more allure, consciously or subconsciously. All she associates with the idea is pain, death, and grief.
I think if one was to consider and genuinely want to write Tyrant Victoria, one needs to have her be taken away from seeing Drillbit, from interacting with Colt, feeling frustrated with how much her darker changes get in her own way, and from being in Shin and realizing how much she values people having free-will over her own desires.
If none of this happens, I could see a Victoria who - when fighting Teacher - would think that if she was in his position, SHE would be doing better. That she could fix the system by herself, get rid of all the bad people, and do the Right Thing.
She could become Goddess, in that scenario.
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