#he's a little conservative? he cares but at an arms length. better then a guy who is literally not there though lmao

[starsnores]

you said a while ago that ghb could be a retired televangelist, so i assume there's gonna be some conflict between him and gamzee dating karkat?

Maybe? idk televangelists was a fun idea for him but i can't really make up my mind . Generational wealth? maybe he just actually runs a cult. I don't think i'd want him to be virulently homophobic though, idk if that's the sort of conflict i'd want out of an au like this, but idk. i have some vague ideas about him sending gamzee to a military private school bc he's having Issues and that's the only way he can think to instill discipline into him.

[rhyssands]

oct 20 - too cold

prompt: sweater weather rating: g wordcount: 616 characters: Underfell Sans | Red, Ink Sans warnings: none prompt from this post, read it on ao3 here

——

"Reeeeeed," Whines Ink from the other end of the couch, with a pitiful little shudder, "I'm coooooold."

Sans — or Red, since that's what Ink calls him — cares a lot about the weird fucking skeleton currently sharing the couch with him, really he does, whether he'll ever admit it out loud or not. Aside from Papyrus, Ink is just about the only thing in the known universe that he gives a fuck about. He owes that paint-drinking freak, and he owes him, like, six consecutive life-debts for getting he and Paps off the streets all those years ago.

Plus, he genuinely just kinda likes the guy.

All that said, though, he also thinks Ink is by far the stupidest motherfucker he's ever met.

"Yer only wearin' a t-shirt." He grunts, unsympathetic as he burrows deeper into his own sweater, "Course yer cold. Put on somethin' warm like the rest of us, ya clown."

Their house in New Home doesn't generally get all that cold. Being that they live underground, expecting cold snaps like this would be a helluva lot dumber than being totally unprepared for it. Thing is, though, that Sans never really got out of the habit of layering up after all those years on the streets proved to him that 'chilly' and 'freezing' were not as far removed from each other as he wanted to think they were. Ink, however, seems to wear less and less every day, and today he's only got on a thin white t-shirt and his overalls, folded down into pants as usual.

"But then I'd have to leave the blanket." Ink tells him, bemused, "And I'd lose all the warmth I've gotten."

Sans sighs, rolling his eyelights. He grumbles something as he shifts toward the other end of the couch, and it's not very flattering, but Ink knows better than to take offense to the jab at his intelligence and subsequent dig at how annoying he is. Ink just seems pleased once they're pressed against each other, curling into Sans's side with a satisfied hum.

He's freezing.

Sans still doesn't really feel bad about it, because no matter how much he likes Ink, the idiot did this to himself. If he'd just put on the usual outfit and his scarf, he'd be a lot warmer. He doesn't put off heat like Sans and Papyrus do, unfortunately, but he'd be conserving what heat he does have a lot better than he currently is.

Idiot.

"Pappy's gonna be a Pap-sicle when he gets home from school." Ink comments, after several moments of them snuggling on the couch. He's warmer, by then, and his teeth don't faintly chatter when he talks, although his face is no doubt still half-frozen. "I need to set up some heaters in here."

Sans doesn't look up from the book he'd pulled out of his inventory, but he does offer up his right arm for Ink to scribble a note onto in the absence of his scarf. Dutifully, Ink scrawls paint some space heaters for the house down the length of Sans's radius.

He leaves his arm where it is so he doesn't smudge the note before it's fully dry, and he keeps reading. Ink shifts, clinking the sides of their skulls together, and that's all they say for the time being.

At least until Ink slides one cold, cold hand up under Sans's sweater to grip the arch of his hip, and Sans barely bites back a yelp. He turns it into a sharp curse, and Ink just laughs.

Bastard.

Idiot bastard.

(He loves him so much.)

Sans puts his book into his inventory, turns, and shoves Ink's face unceremoniously into the back cushion of the couch.

[vixenpen]

You should DEFINITELY do a part 2 to the Dabi x teacher fic! Like it could be when they start taking their relationship to the next level and do some freaky things😏

Hot For Teacher pt.2 (Dabi x Black Reader)

Quirkless AU

(Friendly reminder in this Dabi owns a tattoo shop and is tatted and pierced up and reader is black and thiccccc🍑💦💦)

You were completely unaware of the turquoise eyes admiring your thick ass as you erased your last lesson from the white board.

Dabi’s dick flexed just imagining what sliding between those cheeks would feel like. The material of your conservative black dress clung to your juicy butt and round hips despite the loose material. He liked that.

After a while he couldn’t take it anymore and snuck up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pressing into you from the back.

“Dabi!” You squealed.

“Sorry, Ms. Y/n,” he chuckled against your kinky hair, “I just wanted to come by and see if it was possible to get some private lessons.”

You giggled, shaking your head, “you’re so corny. What are you doing here anyway?”

“I wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner, but I’m hungry now.”

“What? What’s the supp-oh!”

The soft material of your knee length dress slid against your body and the next thing you felt were Dabi’s big, warm hands massaging your hips and a very familiar bulge against the crack of your ass.

“Damn, teach,” your boyfriend grinned against your ear, his deep raspy voice made you shiver. “You should have known better than to wear a thong with this little dress of yours. All those pervy male teachers probably haven’t been able to take their eyes off you.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt strong fingers groping and massaging your ass cheeks.

“Dabi,” you croaked weakly, “not here.”

Dabi responded by snaking his pierced along your neck. You whimpered.

“D-Dabi..”

“Hmm?”

One his hands squeezed your full breasts beneath the material.

“Stop, I’m serious.”

“You know, you’re really hard to resist, right beautiful?” His hard on was massaging you through the jeans.

The two of you had been dating for a few months now, and had yet to go beyond kissing and heavy petting that always left Dabi wanting more. He wasn’t sure what you were waiting for, but he did know you were worth the wait.

And boy did you make him wait for it...and work for it. It was as hot as it was frustrating. His dick was so hard it hurt, and all he could think about was fucking you on your desk until you were screaming his name.

He turned you around to face him easily and scooped you up by those thick thighs of yours.

The next few moments were a blur. You saw pens and papers knocked to the floor before feeling your big bare ass settle against the cool wood of the desk.

“My lesson plans!”

Dabi’s lips cut off your protest, and his fingers worked the black dress off your body and over your head, exposing your curves to the cool air.

It was dizzying and exciting and sexy and...inappropriate! So inappropriate. This was your job!

“D-Dabi, wait!” You gasped between the feeling of his pierced lips nipping at you. “There might be students-“

“School ended an hour ago. Trust me. No kids are in this building.” He chuckled, amused.

“The janitors might-“

“I locked the door, beautiful. We’ll hear ‘em comin’.”

Turquoise eyes roamed your thick, dark body hungrily, followed by hands stacked with rings.

“Damn, I want you.” He muttered, diving down between your big breasts to lick and suck at them.

“Ahh~” you dug your fingers into his crop of black hair. “We can’t.” You gasped.

“Says who?”

“Da-ahh! Mmm.” His tongue was now snaking down your stomach. Kisses and bites being left on the melanated skin below your belly button. Fuck it felt so damn good.

He admired the glistening mess between your legs, parting the thick thighs to admire your creaming pussy.

“Fuckin’ delicious.”

And then he dove in.

“Ohh go—“

Dabi slurped at your clit gently. The flick of his pierced tongue combined with the warmth of his mouth sucking the sensitive pearl sent electricity tingling through you.

Your eyes fluttered shut and the muffled sounds of heels clicking down the hall as remaining teachers walked past your locked room was the furthest thing from your mind.

This was so wrong. This went against everything you stood for, and yet...

“Moan for me, y/n,” Dabi commanded against your pussy. “Don’t hold back. Or else I’ma stop holdin’ back.”

“Dabi~”

He smirked up at your pretty brown face and his fingers glided easily into the gripping heat of your cunt.

“Ahhaaa! Fuck! Fuck...” your hips bucked against the sensation.

Months of only being able to play in your cat had given Dabi plenty of time to get to know your weaknesses. He exploited every one of them now. Throwing your thick thighs around his neck he flexed his fingers while licking at your folds.

You could only squirm against him, one hand grabbing his head to push his face deeper while the other gripped the edge of your desk.

“D-Dabi, god yes! Don’t stop! Don’t stop. B-baby, f-f-fu~”

Those sweet moans were music to Dabi’s ears. Your cum coated his fingers and your juices sprayed his face. He opened his mouth greedily drinking every drop.

Then he laughed low in his throat.

“Wow, Ms. Y/n, you really are a naughty teacher aren’t you?”

You tried to glare down at him, but it barely registered. You were too turned on to be pissed.

Dabi continued to tease you. “Letting me fuck you on your desk. Right here where you have to teach all these innocent young minds.”

“Sh-shut up!”

Dabi pressed kisses against the chunky meat of your thighs, his piercings tickled and his lips felt so good.

“Or what, Ms. Y/n?” He asked. “You’ll make me stay after class?”

He snickered and got to his feet.

You couldn’t help admiring him. He wasn’t a big guy by any means, but he was lean and well toned. You wanted to see all of him. Feel all of him.

Snatching him by his shirt, you pulled him close and locked your thick thighs around his trim hips. Your lips pressed against his, hungry to taste every bit of him.

The two of you pulled his shirt over his head and you grinned admiring the colorful tapestry of tattoos and, your favorite part, the barbells piercing his nipples.

Dabi gave a smug smirk. “What’s up, babe? Don’t wanna stop anymore?”

You cocked a brow. “Real funny for someone who moans like a bitch when I do this.”

Pulling him towards you by the waist of his jeans, you trailed your tongue around his nipple, gazing up at him in that way that drove him fucking crazy.

“Oh my god~” he sighed. “Fuuuck, y/n...”

You giggled softly, switching to the other nipple. A deep groan welled up from your man’s throat.

Taking back control, your hand slipped beneath the waistband of his pants, squeezing the thick length trapped in his jeans.

Fuck his dick was so big. You had wanted to fuck your man for the longest time. And just feeling how hard his big dick was for you only confirmed that.

You pressed kisses up along his bobbing Adam’s apple, sucking at his studded earlobes. Your lips pressed to his ear as you purred out; “Now whose being naughty?”

That was about all the man could take.

He snatched you up off the desk once more to turn you around, laying you against it.

You heard the clang of his belt buckle as he snatched off his belt. Then you felt the leather and studs of it kiss your phat ass as he cracked it against you.

“OH FUCK!” You screamed.

“Yeah?” Dabi growled. “Since you wanna talk shit and be a little tease that’s what your ass gets.” He snapped back.

He spanked you a few more times, not caring about what straggling teachers may have heard the noise.

Your mouth hung open as you felt your boyfriend’s lean body press against your body, long dick rocking between the cheeks of your butt.

“I been wanting to fuck your fine ass up for a minute Ms. Y/n.” He chuckled. “This is gonna be fun.”

He stood up admiring the view of that big, perfect ass jiggling with all its dimples and stretch marks in front of him.

God. He couldn’t wait to dive in it.

You craned your neck and admired the long dick slipping between your ass crack. A trail of piercings forming a jacob’s ladder on the underside.

Dabi caught your eye and grinned, eyes flashing. “You ready, babygirl?”

“Fuck me.” You replied.

That was all the answer he needed. Dabi wasted no time plunging deep into that juicy cunt of yours and a strangled groan escaped you both.

“Ahaaa~ fuuuuck yesss, Dabi!”

It was an odd sensation. His piercings added another sensation of texture to your throbbing walls. Your pussy couldn’t get enough of it because you felt yourself clenching and flexing for more.

Luckily he was more than happy to give it to you. His hips rocked back and forth making you feel every. Single. Inch. Every bump and ridge of your tight heat got massaged as he long stroked inside you.

“Fuckkk, y/n, you feel even better than I imagined, babygirl.”

The Angle made your big butt squeeze his cock going in and out, adding an extra grip to his dick. He dug his fingers into the flesh of your ass massaging and squeezing it while he pummeled deep into you.

“You gonna let me cum in this fat ass of yours, y/n? Huh?” He ground out through gritted teeth, fucking you sonhard your booty jiggled and the desk creaked.

“Yes daddy. You-c-can cum-ahh~where-ever you-fuccck-want!” You managed back, throwing your ass back at him as best you could.

“God damn right I can. Fuck!” He sighed.

Dabi alternated between fucking you hard and rough and slow and deep. His hand landed against your ass again and again and again. The sting barely registered as anything other than pleasure.

“Fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck fuck FUCK! Don’t stop! Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” You gasped, drool drenching the desk where your mouth hung open.

“Got you baby-ah fuck! Don’t worry. Ima take care of you.” Dabi grunted back, eyes damn near closed in a mix of pure bliss and concentration.

The desk scraped as the force of your fuck session sent it sliding against the linoleum floors slightly. Neither of you stopped bucking and fucking.

If anything, you went harder. Dabi’s balls clapped your cunt with every stroke, and your ass jumped up to meet his pounding dick over and over until-

“AHAAA~”

“FUUUUCK!”

The two of you came so hard together it felt like you had ascended to another planet. Dabi Damn near collapsed on top of you. He pressed kisses against your curls and cooed about how amazing you felt. How amazing you were, as the two of you came down from your highs.

Finally, you were able to stand shakily to your feet—with Dabi’s help—and get dressed.

You sat back against the desk, panting and watching your very smug boyfriend pull on his shirt.

“I can’t believe we just did that.” You shook your head. “I knew you were trouble the day I met you.”

Dabi laughed. “Well, hey, if I’m so much trouble I could always come see you after class again.” He winked.

You threw a marker at his laughing face which he just barely dodged.w

“Shut the hell up and clean up my classroom.”

Still grinning Dabi leaned in for a kiss. “Yes ma’am, teacher.”

[starshipsofstarlord]

Hiya when u gave the time can you please a continuation of the luke from skins one where they were in Morocco and they are both back from Bristol now and they see eachother again and it’s a smut where they r high and kinda intense if that makes sense 😂 ❤️

What Happens in Morocco, Stays in Morocco

This is part two to this imagine, find it here

Pairing | Luke x reader

Summary | perhaps, you were wrong. Not everything stays in Morocco. It is a tradition for things to come back to bite you in the ass, more so when you have been forced to be clean, and kept away from any kind of drugs.

Warnings | use of drugs, addiction, smut, it’s bit dark so read at your own risk, this is a warning so please keep that in mind,

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

An insatiable stirred within your gut, pelting you with reminders of what you had lost after Morocco. The love of your life had been departed from your shaking grip, the people that claimed to care about you forcing you to be sober off the high that it gave you. Drugs. It was your only desire, but you stayed strong as you walked back from college, even as you saw a dealer out of the corner of your eye, trading his special product with someone in your English class, that sat two seats to the right of you.

Licking your lips, you held onto the straps of your rucksack tighter, hoping that the weight of all the items within it would succumb you under the lenient pressure that it composed against your spine, pushing you into a lower station of dwelling, so that you would feel nothing, and the emptiness sure as hell would not be burdening you with satisfactory mockery.

At such a young age, you had found a friend, even if it be absorbed into a conversation through digestion or clouded fumes. And without its presence you were someone else, a stranger trudging hopelessly through the ambient streets of Bristol, lost and in need for a high. That holiday had been the end of you, your friends didn’t say it, but you were more than certain that they were thinking such a spectacle.

Whilst you were amped up on various chemicals that engorged your veins with images of new possibilities, you were far from a sullen composure; you were happy. You had no problem speaking to Nick’s brother, though everyone seemed to be wary of him, and listening to Grace talk about her various recitals, and the strictness that her father intended upon her. To everyone you had been a breath of fresh air, until that place that they called rehab.

In there they had starved you from the one thing that you had truly craved. Even the security guy wouldn’t trade a blowjob for a little picking of white powder, and it showed you how messed up their priorities were. Morocco, it had been an escape, something you were sure it never feel again, but you wanted to, so desperately.

“If it isn’t the wisp of the waters, in the flesh, and looking like she could use a pick me up.” A blonde male asked, he couldn’t have been much older than yourself. There were scrapes adorning his pale complexion, brandishing his cheek with what could only be seen as battle scars from a testosterone endorsed fight.

“I’m sorry, but who the fuck are you?” You roughly spoke, having no recollection of ever meeting this man in your life, though, half of your memory was boggled. Going cold turkey appeared to have had that affect on you, but a deep internal part of you was warning you to leave now, and conserve your own safety from whatever offer he was about to propose.

Sure, you’d have once done anything, but the possibility of danger preached louder when there was nothing numbing your blood stream, and dirtying the contents that ran through it. A small snicker fled from the boy’s mouth, revealing that he was much amused by your naivety. He tilted his head, observing you with a lick of his lips, plodding closer as you froze.

“We’ve met before.” He toyed inside his pockets, extracting a clear bag that contained a couple of vibrant yellow pills that had your heart beating promiscuously against the captivity of your ribcage. “In fact, we got to know each other very well darling, your manners weren’t so spectacular then either, though they sure were better. It appeared as though you rather enjoyed the attention and now you’re here, looking like an innocent doe under the flare of headlights.”

“I don’t do that kinda stuff any more.” But you wanted to. It didn’t matter what prospects spewed out of your mouth in the form of conjunctive excuses, it was more than clear that you were aggressively attracted to the small spheres that had caught your attention fast. “I’d find the next girl to corrupt, because I’m clean and intend to stay that way.” Did you?

“You’re already corrupted, there’s no point in dismissing this, because it is what you want. But you’re denying urself from the simple luxuries of life, all because ripple; family, friends, think its better for you. They want you to be healthy, though that entails you perceiving though life as someone that you aren’t.” He sighed, rolling his shoulders slightly as his eyes bore around your sullen demeanour, recognising every trace that your body showed of restraining itself. “I’m Luke. And you, you are y/n, aren’t you? I’m sure I heard your friends call you that on holiday.”

Gulping, you realised that this must have been the boy that fucked with Frankie’s head, and made one of your group disappear, all whilst Grace was away, and in intensive care. As soon as it all clicked, you felt overwhelmed. There was nothing that you could do against him, he had already broken everything around you, whether that was his intent or not. Without thinking at all, you snatched the self made packet out of the clasp of his fingers, emptying the contents into your palm, throwing them into your mouth.

“Good girl.” It felt like a taunt, he was messing with you, you knew that. But it wasn’t his fault that you were messed up; all that was on you. “Don’t you want some water with that, it might make it wash down easier?” To answer him, you swallowed the pills dry cocking a brow at him as he pulled out another clear sachet of impulsive medications, taking it himself before you could whisk it away and endure further affects yourself.

Luke, feeling the tingle himself, pulled you down the alley that he was occupying, pressing your numbed back against the wall, his mouth running along your cheek as you felt swarmed with various desires. A part of you wanted to push him away, and beat him until he could no longer walk, but the other wanted nothing more than to feel his toxic skin dragging along yours, increasing the high that was spurring around your lungs until you felt like you could no longer breathe.

Your hands were uncertain of where they were supposed to be, and thus they roamed around his thin arms, grasping at his shoulders as his face sunk into the crook of your neck, his hands daring below your skirt, and feeling you up over your panties. Every touch he presented upon your burning flesh induced sparks to collapse in your mind, displaying through each of your appendages. “Fuck me, or I’ll find someone else to a better job.” You snarled at him, growling as he chuckled at your desperation.

“Now I recognise you, instead of that good girl facade.” He nipped at your neck, dropping his preppy slacks as he grasped his cock, thrusting your panties to the side so that he could penetrate your cunt, a cry abandoned your throat, echoing around the nearby streets. Your walls convulsed around him as you felt full and completely satisfied with the sensation. The memories of him flooded back into your mind as you pictured Morocco. He had stalked over towards you as though you were his prey, and it seemed that he had continued to hunt you down.

The thought was kinda hot, and thus you clenched your teeth, succumbing to an orgasm around him, whimpering as he slipped himself out, jerking his length so that he spilled his seed over your legs. “I have more of the good stuff back home, you fancy coming over?” Hazily you nodded, as his wobbling hand grasped your face, smashing his poisonous lips upon yours, suffocating all the good that you had been laboured into, making you swim in the darkness of his pupils as the two of you wobbled away from the scene, his cum still painted upon your legs as the two of you slowly headed towards his flat.

[celestialnocturnes]

a message to my youth (reply 1988 thought dump)

warning: this isn't meant to be a coherent review or commentary on reply 1988. i literally just finished the kdrama a few moments ago and i want to preserve what i'm feeling through this entry. this is only a cathartic attempt to show how the kdrama had impacted me in so many ways. also, spoilers!

--

to the things that are already gone. to a time that has already passed, i want to say a belated farewell. goodbye, my youth.

watching a kdrama wasn't in my top priorities this year, but things that used to be a part of you would demand to be revisited sometimes. i'm glad that i did, and i'm thankful that it was reply 1988.

taking a nostalgic look at the year 1988, this kdrama tells about the story of five families in a humble block in ssangmun, seoul. for someone born 12 years after the setting, the plot is something strange, a history lesson in the lens of simple households. for someone in the limbo between careless youth and adulting, and someone born in an asian family, this kdrama will feel like home.

culturally speaking, reply 1988 was a beautiful exposition of how asian households run. what got me hooked to continue the drama was the endless saga of giving dishes to neighbors in the first episode. funnily enough, all families ended up having a feast of each house's dinner on their tables.

from a mouthwatering display of korean side dishes, to the trends of 1988 korea (back when jyp himself was a hit lolz jk), to the endless neighborhood gossips, to the flawed and conservative views on politics, and to the tight-knitted family dynamics — one would find this hilarious and relatable, informative even.

reply 1988 was a lot of things, but its casts hold a special place in my heart. the gang had so much love between them and it was so beautiful to see a pure friendship evolve through the years. i wish i could still have loud dinners and drunken nights with my friends when we get into our careers. I would love that.

sung deok sun, the optimistic figure in the group, was a ray of sunshine to me even as a viewer. i love deok sun because her spirits were never faltered by her failures and her status in life. my personality is sooo far from deok sun's, but she was relatable to me when she said she didn't know what to do in her life. she doesn't have a dream, i have a lot of them. even so, the uncertainty is there. i guess we all figure things out in the end. deok sun became a flight crew and was able to earn money for the family. i can't wait to figure out my own path, too.

dong ryong, being deoksun's self-proclaimed soulmate faced the same journey. despite not getting into a prestigious university, it's amazing how he was able to establish his own restaurant and even expand branches! makes you really think that not everything in life can be solved by good grades. honestly, i wish i have his street smarts and wisdom. what a powerful person i would be, then.

jung hwan was the man of few words in the group. he showed his affections not through words, but through his actions (and teases for deok sun). his love language would definitely be acts of service! i love jung hwan. he was a good son, brother, and friend. i aspire to have the kindness that he has. but oh dear heavens i would kill just to see how his love life would unfold had he faced the courage to confess to deok sun. i mean, come on! just be straightforward! they would honestly make a good pair, the ray of sunshine girl and the cold guy.

choi taek, the professional go-gamer, was the baby of the group. like jung hwan, he was a man of few words, except that taek was actually shy. his growth through the series was perhaps the most apparent. his innocent image was eventually changed by the way he picked up curse words from the gang, to his smoking, and to his openness of affection for his family and later on, deok sun. also, his character made me fall in love with park bo gum and his smile!

before i go to the next two characters that i associate myself with, i would also like to comment on the household parents of the block. the fathers here have different personalities, but their identities as providers of the house defined the way they act. they keep a tough act and may be distant to their children, but the love is there even though they don't really know much about the household.

and the mothers, oh dear, the mothers. my mom is not a working entity, but i've seen her struggle through the years. i think her burdens are even heavier than that of my dad's. the way this kdrama portrayed the stories of the mothers touched my heart so much that i couldn't stop my tears. never underestimate a woman's strength, i tell you.

from these figures, i learned so much about adulting and marriage. our parents miss their parents, too. our parents would always worry about us, no matter how old we are. our parents are trying to keep everything together, so they put up a tough front. our parents' wishes are devoted to their children. our parents just want the best life for us. not only us are growing old, but our parents, too. our parents want our attention, too. our parents do not have the perfect marriage, but they would do anything for their children. our parents love us deeply.

okay, here goes my reflection in the kdrama — sun woo and sung bora. initially, i was planning to write an entry only about bora, but i realized that i am in many ways alike to sun woo as well. both characters are the eldest children of the family and they face a lot of pressure in their respective families. both characters sacrificed their dreams because they are limited to what their families can afford. sung bora took math education despite her dreams as a prosecutor. sun woo took medicine because that was what his mom wanted. as for me, i chose a course that would promise a stable salary. i dreamed to work in the field of science or writing, but both paths have unstable pays in this country. i do not come from a well-off family, so i have to set my dreams aside.

bora and i do not share the same personality. hers was aggressive and frank, mine was the opposite. even so, i found a piece of my soul in her character because she was steadfast in her goals and was very understanding of her family's situation. she was the cream of the crop in the siblings, the only one who became a student in the premier university, the talk of the neighborhood. she had strong political stances that made her own parents almost disown her, but she was never sorry for it. when it comes to little things, bora had so much privacy over her things that she would get mad at the slightest unauthorized touch of it. oh dear, if that wasn't me.

sun woo, on the other hand, was nearing my male counterpart. he cares so much about his mom and his sister that he hated the thought of the former working. he was the model student, the one with the straight a's, and the one who acts professionally even with the internal turmoil of emotions. he never opposed his mother's wishes and he loved his sister dearly. he would always hold his feelings in, but gets weak in the arms of a loved one. based on his upbringing and firm values, you would also see how he respects women. i love it.

these two never worked out at first because they prioritized their dreams above romance, but i'm so, so happy that they got together in the end.

reply 1988 was perhaps one of the best slice of life shows that i've ever seen. i wish i had watched this when i was younger, because it would teach you so much about family, love, dreams, friendship, and growing up. the pacing would feel kind of slow because of its movie-length episodes, but i swear it was worth it.

to the youth that i was, thank you for building the youth that i am.

to the youth that i am, enjoy the uncertainty and strive to be a better version of yourself.

to the youth that will be, may you never lose the spark inside your heart no matter how old you are.

i will hear your reply in time.

most ardently,

grace

[hangezoeenthusiast]

Body Positivity

gn!reader

pronouns: they/them

person: karl jacobs

warnings: skirts, cursing, self-demeaning, (this isn't a warning but this fic, hopefully was trying to encourge body positivity, all bodies are beautiful, thin, medium, large, disabled, etc.)

word count: 499

for some reason you were abandoning your certain aesthetic today. for the longest time, you abandoned the life of wearing skirts everyday of your life. you were now returning the life of skirts for 24 hours.

"shit, hopefully i look good in this, it's been a long time." you thought.

you went to get a skirt out of the closet to wear. you picked out a black one, "ok good, now let's put it on."

you went in front of your full lengthed mirror (mother mother am i right ;D) and put on the skirt. you didn't feel good in it, you didn't look as good in skirts as you did when you were younger(everyone, listen up, you look good in EVERYTHING, don't be a insecure little bitch like me alright, strut in whatever you are wearing with confidence, get those bitches like callahan 👍).

"why the fuck i look ugly?" you questioned yourself. you felt tears come up in your eyes. you felt shitty, why couldn't you be one of the those models in victoria secret, or addison rae, or kendall jenner.

luckily, karl heard mostly every single word you said. he barged into your room you shared with him, and hugged you from behind. you jumped, "karl, what you doing here?"

"honey, ya'know you can talk to me about everything, right?" he asked you. you nodded, "yeah babe, what, is anything wrong?" "yeah actually, there's someone in my life who is going through something right now."

you listened intensively, wondering who he was talking about. "they feel shit about themselves and got some body positivity issues, would you happen to know who i'm talking about?" everything became so clear to you, he was talking about you (we already knew y/n, stop being dumb /j).

"ohhh, did you just hear everything i just said a minute ago?" "yes i did." he said bluntly.

you felt embarrased, he heard your little rant about yourself. "baby, you look perfect. may i explain?" he held you tighter in his arms explaining why you were more than perfect, "first of all your smile, it can light up my day in an instant, your fingers, so beautiful between mine, you eyes, catching me off guard, stomach and waist full of stretch marks, looking like cute tiger stripes (I GOT THOSE TIGER STRIPES :D), your thighs, so soft and pillowy, my favorite pillow, your legs, so beautiful between mine when we cuddle, everything that is apart of your body, head to toe, is beautiful, don't doubt yourself love."

after karl's little speech, you were full on crying, sobbing into his sweater. "sshhh, it's ok love, i got you." he held onto you until you ran out of oxygen, you were insecure, but karl made it so much better.

"you wanna go get ice cream outside y/n?" "sure karl."

karl could make everything better, whether is when one of your favorite characters die, or whether you have problems on your beautiful body.

note: i understand if some of you guys are insecure on your bodies, as myself as a young person who is bordering on 200 pounds, i get it, i feel shit in my own body, and constantly fantasize on me being skinny with a hourglass figure or just me being a whole other person. this might make me sound as a hypocrite me being insecure in my own body, but love yourself as you are, even if you are underweight or overweight, hourglass body or shaped like a matchbox, any body shape or weight, you are beautiful beyond compare. social media kinda just makes this worse. we constantly fantasize about being the size of "charli" and "kendall jenner".

it's all utter bullshit, excuse my language. why do we have to fit the standards of other people who society deems are pretty. blue eyes, blond and wavy hair, skinny hourglass figure, skinny fingers, arms, and legs, small noses, big lips, hairless (sorry if you are actually all or some of these things, don't wanna offend people). yes these people are beautiful, but why can't there be variety in shape and size of people. same things goes for other genders besides women (yes, there are more than 2 genders, ok, stop conservatives). why does society have to have a basic standard? why can't we all be deemed as beautiful in society? (side note here, also i couldn't care less if this fic was horrible or not, i just wanted to spread the message of body positivity)

[stevenbasic]

“Knock-knock!” I heard at the door of my office, startling me. I was nearly - jesus - an hour into this video call with the Study Coordinator from Evolution, and had obviously lost track of time.  “Where’s my favorite patient?!?’ called the voice. It was Vida, my Nurse Practitioner, entering with a broad smile, a procedure tray and someone else and causing me to look up from my computer screen. “Time for your mediciiine…” In place of her usual white clinic jacket, she was wearing a tailored black jacket over a black, figure-hugging, dress, cut low.

Immediately I said my abrupt goodbyes to Gianna, over chat, and shut down the window right as she was, good lord, blowing me a kiss. At the same time I looked up and gave my wan smile of greeting to Vida and the generously curvy blond woman who’d entered with her…

“This is Morgan, if you two haven’t met yet,” Vida said, as she briskly approached my desk, high heels clacking. Trailing behind her a few steps was a woman in a white blouse and tan leggings - a big woman - broad of shoulder, wide of hip, huge of chest, standing taller than Vida by five or six inches...and myself even more, “She’s a Nurse Practitioner too, from Evolution until just yesterday, when she joined us.”

“It is very nice to meet you, Dr. J…” Morgan purred, in a voice deeper, richer than Vida’s. There was a queer smile on her face and a hint of a vaguely Eastern European accent in her words, one that she was obviously trying to hide. For now she was hanging back, taking her cues from Vida as the younger but more senior woman began to prepare her tray behind my desk to my left. “Nurse Vida is training me today how to take the care of you.”

“H-hi, uh, Morgan,” I replied, immediately sensing that that was not this woman’s given name, and remembering it was time again for my booster shot. The thought, for some reason, brought me a little thrill, remembering how it made me feel last week…but was it also responsible for the 8 pounds I’d lost since then? “But, um, what do you m-”

Interrupting my concerns, Vida chuckled. “Oh, don’t get worried, doc. I just figured that the more of us that know how to do this for you, the better,” she explained, opening the strange black box in which the vitamin B12/D/K booster vial was packaged. I noticed the familiar, strange blue tint of the liquid as Vida removed it along with the pre-packaged syringe. “And Morgan here has lots of experience.” At that, Vida nodded up at Morgan; the larger woman took that as a cue to move around the other side of my desk, to my right, and come to stand alongside me there. I was flanked.

“I-is that right, Morgan?” I asked, hearing the nerves starting to quiver in my voice. I hated needles, I hated them. But this single, combination shot was much better than three separate ones. “Wh-what did you do at Evolution?” I asked, not able to recall her resume as I looked up at her; she was gazing down at me, over the shelf of her formidable bosom. I was hoping that, if she had started seeing patients today, that she had been more buttoned up during the workday. The cleavage she was showing at this moment, over the neckline of her overmatched white blouse, was vast.

“At the Evolution Pharmaceuticals?” she replied, the accent in her voice unable to camouflage itself through the words, “There, I was with research team, taking care of study subjects. But before, I was in pediatrics ward, with preemies, the NICU.” She looked down on me with a crooked smile, and seemed to be resisting reaching out her hand to me. Instead, she ran her fingers through her shoulder-length blond hair. “I love holding little bodies.”

“Haha well, that’s exactly why we’re here, isn’t it, Dr. J?” Vida added, explaining to Morgan and pursing her full, plump, latin lips, “This young man has lost a few inches recently and we need to make sure he gets his vitamins.” With that, Vida beamed down at me and released  her thick mane of dark hair from the conservative bun she’d been wearing for the workday. A wave of the now-ubiquitous perfume in this place flowed over me, and I felt a stirring between my legs. I had been intermittently hard during my video call with Gianna - her tits were unbelievable - and I was afraid now that I might swell to some obvious, inappropriate monster of a boner with these women so close. “Lucky for him he has his girls to take care of him,” Vida concluded. The vial and syringe, for the moment, laid inert on the tray.

I tried to focus. ”I, heh heh, don’t know if I need someone to ‘take care of me’...” I spoke, trying to sound relaxed as Morgan’s left hand finally did come to rest on my right shoulder. I’d honestly just met this woman, but she was being very…familiar. Vida as well; she was generally a bit more aloof than she seemed today. It was like there was something weird in the air, something bringing them closer.

“That's silly,” Vida responded, “Even doctors need someone to look after them.” At that, she began to remove her black jacket, and laid it on my desk, as if preparing herself for her task. Underneath she wore a clingy black tube dress that hugged her hourglass figure and revealed her trim shoulders and the upper swells of her full chest; she watched as I struggled not to look at her body. “Who do you see for a PCP?”

“uh…” I began, trying to recall my last visit to a doctor’s office outside of this one, “…no one?”

“You mean…” Vida asked with exaggerated concern, as she herself put a hand on my other shoulder, leaning in to me and twirling a lock of thick, raven hair, “you don’t have a Primary??”

“N-no I, uh-“

”Well, that’s no good,” Vida concluded, standing straight and looking across me at her fellow nurse, “Don't you agree, Morgan?”

”Oh yes,” Morgan concurred, her dimpled smile betraying her amusement, stepping a touch closer, “You need the primary...care...provider.”

“That settles it,” Vida decided, removing her right hand from me to place both it and her left one on her broad hips, in determination, “I’m going to be your PCP from now on.” Her action had drawn my eyes to her remarkably tiny waist and shit this girl had some curves. “I’ll contact our insurance company, do all the paperwork. How does that sound?”

The big woman to my right was giggling, and her hand had begun to idly caress my shoulder.

“Uh, th-that’s fine…” I agreed.

“So,” Vida finally asked, with a wry smile, “does my patient have any questions before we get started?”

Ugh, right…the injection. “Well, um, honestly…” I began, knowing I should at least address the concerns I had over this combo B12/D/K formulation, “I’m not sure it’s working. I think I’ve lost weight since last week, and even maybe almost an inch…”

“That’s ridiculous. You must have measured wrong last time, used a bad scale,” Vida replied, trying to reassure me, “But…do you think you need to go out and get checked..?”

At that, Vida herself moved in closer, and I saw Morgan, to my right, turn her thick body more towards me. Both women looked down at me.

“Or do you want to let us take care of you..?” Vida finished. It felt like a challenge, and I sensed something, an inner struggle inside myself. The logical, intelligent practitioner who cared for his health wanted to answer one way, bring a halt to something that was dangerous, possibly ruining my life. But another part of me, the one that was feeling the cock growing once again down my right thigh in tribute to the ever-more enveloping warmth of these women, just wanted to say-

“n-no…I think I’m alright,” I answered, “let’s go ahead with the shot. I’ll be fine.”

If I had known then what I know now, that my mental capacity for rational thought in the face of arousal had been already crippled by foreign agents? If I had known that I was being purposefully enslaved, drowned more and more every day in the sea of pheromones and womanly curves in which I swam? WelI, I would have run screaming. Or, then again...would I?.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Vida assured me. Her voice had dropped low, almost hypnotic, “You don’t need to go out and see any other specialists. We’ve got everything you need right here…” She was beginning to prepare the injection, now, drawing the blue liquid from the vial up into the syringe.

“Yes, everything,” Morgan agreed, looming over me now so close to my right, her hips and belly blocking out the world behind her. Her scent was warm, earthy. Between it and Vida’s reassuring tone, I felt powerless to do anything but trust these women.

“But,” Vida began again, inspecting the now-filled glass syringe, “if you are still shrinking, lots of guys would be jealous. Don’t you think, Morgan? Here, take this-” She handed a band-aid across me to her fellow nurse.

wh-what?

“Oh, yes,” Morgan concurred, her voice husky, unwrapping the band-aid, preparing it, “very jealous.”

”What…what do you mean?” I asked, confused, looking from one woman to the next, up at them. Without even being told, I had begun rolling up my sleeve.

Vida chuckled. “Oh, you know, the whole ‘vulni-chic’ thing,” she answered, holding the prepared injection now in her right hand, “you’d get very popular if you lost another-“

“One meter?” Morgan said, giggling in her deeper, richer tone, “Two?”

“haha I’d disappear…” I joked, feeling a wave of warmth coming from Morgan’s body to my right, “just like, haha…”

“It’s not a joke, Dr. J,” Vida said, her voice plain, suddenly, clinical, “it’s a thing. Here, get ready-“

“Ouch!!!”

She’d jabbed me, in the left shoulder, with the shot.

Vida spoke as she pressed the plunger, pushing the blue liquid into my deltoid. “It’s not just a fad for women, guys these days are admitting it, too…” she said as she drew the needle out of my arm. Immediately I’d felt it entering my body, like a milky warmth. “Good boy,” she praised, “Band aid?”

“Thanks,” I replied without thinking, watching as Morgan leaned her big torso across me as I turned in my chair towards her, presenting my left shoulder. She was nearly smothering me with her big breasts as she applied the bandage, and I did everything I could not to goggle at the wobbling flesh of her full, tan cleavage. My roving eyes made me realize that this generously endowed woman was wearing a very thin bra, or possibly none at all. Somehow, though, she was still so firm, with a natural buoyancy that kept her tits high and proud on her chest. My gaze could not get enough. But then eyes fluttered as I was assaulted by both an overwhelming breath of her perfume and the first rush of pleasure from the shot. I began to lower my sleeve, rubbing my arm as I looked up at her, smiling down at me as she finally stood up and away.

“I mean it, with the shrinking,” Vida started again, watching me with an appraising eye as I recovered from my shot, buttoned my sleeve, “have you seen Melissa’s new Instagram post?”

With the butterflies? I didn’t want to admit anything.

“The guys that follow her, the simps,” she continued, “they talk about wanting to be like bugs, crawling into her breasts.” She was replacing the syringe, carefully putting it and the vial back into the box. “It’s all over the place, everywhere, though no ones really talking about it yet,” she said, as she closed the black container, “guys wanting to be smaller, weaker than us. Wanting to become inferior, more passive, more submissive.”

She looked down at me and smiled, watching as the effects of the injection began to take hold. Even more strongly than last time, I was being gripped by a pleasant wave of lethargy, relaxation.

“Guys want to be small, these days,” Vida said, “and we’d like it that way too, wouldn’t we, Morgan?””

To my right I heard Morgan purr, a little grunt. “Yes, Nurse Vida,” she said, her voice low and struggling with arousal, “we would like it very much.” I had the feeling she was holding back her true feelings, in restrained understatement.

Vida laughed, casually. “It’s weird, all these changes in gender dynamics,” she continued, brushing a lock of my hair behind my left ear, “the new thing is bigger women, smaller men. Here, look at Morgan, perfect example…”

I turned, looked up at the smiling behemoth of a woman.

“She’s probably bigger than you ever were,” Vida continued, “taller, heavier, thicker everywhere.”

“Yes,” Morgan agreed, seeming to rise up, grow bigger, heavier, right in front of my eyes, “I weigh much, much more than the you.”

“And, you have to admit…” Vida asked, watching me look up at the huge, busty blond woman, who was now absolutely dwarfing me in my seat and could probably lift me like a child, “that’s kinda sexy, right?”

“I, uh….” I began, not knowing what to say. My erection was getting painful, now, contorted as it was in my pants, trying to stretch down my right thigh.

Vida spoke again, now holding my head in place by my cheek and jaw, so all I saw was Morgan. “So, even if you are getting smaller...lots of us would like that.”

I sat there, in the building afterglow of my injection, and looked at this woman’s body. It was, in all ways, so much bigger than my own. Thicker thighs, wider hips. Her arms were stronger than mine, her shoulders broader. Standing aside her, I would look puny. Even Vida - though she stood roughly my height, maybe an inch or two more - her hourglass figure and womanly hips made her body just that much more than mine.

”Dr. J,” Vida said, pulling me from my reverie, but not releasing my face from her hand’s gentle embrace, “You look like you need to go lay down. We’d take you up to bed ourselves but we have an important girl meeting to get to, don’t we Morgan?”

“Yes,” Morgan replied, though never taking her eyes or dimpled smile from me, “Very important.” I watched as she looked down on me, regarded me, considered me. “But I promise. Next time you can go to the sleep in my lap,” she said, “I have a very nice lap.” With that, Morgan bent at the waist a bit, to gently slap her prodigious thighs. My eyes watched them jiggle, and then her hands come up to the collar of her blouse, hoisting her breasts. “Or, if not on lap, we find somewhere else…”

“Haha okay,” Vida laughed, finally releasing my head but smiling as I didn’t turn away from the cleavage into which I was now dumbly gazing, in my vitamin-fueled haze imagining myself sinking into it like a caterpillar, cocooned in womanly warmth. “I’ll get a couple of the MA’s to get you upstairs…”

=========================================

more Vida & Morgan imagery, more posts, more more more at my Patreon.

Thanks for reading, everyone.

[truth-and-lies-drv3-imagines]

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

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

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

Shuichi Saihara

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kaito Momota

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gonta Gokuhara

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ryoma Hoshi

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kiibo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Korekiyo Shinguji

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kokichi Ouma

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rantaro Amami

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[seancekitsch]

Forgetting: Klaus Hargreeves x Reader Kinktober fic, Part of the Prize Buck series

warnings: deepthroating, kinda toxic no one has good coping skills, toys, overstimulation, talking about drugs and relapsing but not actually doing it

When Klaus gets home, he finds you on the bed with tears in your eyes, surrounded by papers you shouldn't be reading. Vanya had given him the heads up, that your research team (including your ex-fiance) had published. Not just anything, but your research. With your name carefully left out of the list of authors and contributors. This is what Klaus was rushing home for, to prevent and protect you from ever seeing this, or at the very least to be there and comfort you when you first discovered it. He knows this has to hurt. It's your entire career’s worth of work changing the field you love without bringing you along with it. Bringing the people that abandoned you along for the ride. It's everyone that shunned you flying on the wings of your work. And of course he knows your ex-fiance had a hand in it. The way the guy stared you down at the bar the one time Klaus saw him in person was enough for him to tell what kind of person he could be. That had to be another twist of the knife for you. 

He wants to protect you from it. To be some kind of hero, not like when he was a kid, but a real hero. To save you from the hurt and the pain, though he knows sometimes his protection is futile. He only hopes you know he would shield you from all of this and take the brunt of it if he could.You don't look at him, don't acknowledge his arrival until he begins collecting the nest of papers littered around you. Your eyes are brimmed red with tears and makeup cakes the bags under your eyes, but they're sober eyes. You haven't touched the bottle or the hash in the cabinet, Klaus notices, a decidedly good sign.

“How many years did I work on that?” Holy shit. Your voice is barely over a whisper, sounding not unlike a ghost, and he would know. 

“Don't go there,” he urges, trying to sound as firm as he can while still being gentle with you. Klaus shuffles the papers after they are all collected, straightens them like they are to be organized, then unceremoniously drops them on the floor. They bear nothing on your value and only have harm to contribute, so they don't even deserve the place on the table.

 “How long?” you repeat, looking more through Klaus than at him.

“Jesus, love. Snap out of it!” more emphatically, grabbing your shoulders this time. 

“No,” defiant and destructive, “This is the last thing I had.”

Klaus knows that. The last shreds of who you were before the clinic were gone now. You like your life. The one you have now. You have a little home and a partner that wants what's actually best for you, you have a job that doesn't drive you into the arms of an addiction, you have his family to supplement the one that no longer speaks to you. But the finality of it is like a sword on your neck. Your eyes leave his briefly, darting to the cabinet and back. Anything in there will only make you worse tonight. But instead of moving to get up, you rise to your knees and wrap your hands around his biceps, curling until nails bite crescent moons into his skin.

"Fuck me into the mattress, please I need it,” you beg, and he knows this look. This itch you can't scratch, this fix you can't fix yourself. The look you had when you first met. He knows you need him, and fuck, if you or he have any better options. He concedes, more than willing and happy to be that for you. If he cannot protect you from the things that hurt you, he’ll be the medicine and the treatment that heal you. Another small please dies on your lips as he claims it, swallowing it whole in a kiss. He kisses you further, using the momentum to push your pliant form down onto your back, crawling over you as you go. You're going to let him do whatever he wants to you, you concede. 

You trust him, that's love, you trust him to use you and be the stand in for any drug that could take the hurt and emptiness away from you. A true symbiotic relationship, like those sharks with the fish attached, but maybe you're both the shark and you're both the little fish attached. He suckles at your bottom lip, sure to leave it puffy and sore from kissing, leaning and laying his whole weight upon you in something less than a hug but more than an embrace. You want him to peel you apart, layer by layer, fuck you into nothingness and back again. You want him to use you, your body as an idle plaything for his appetite. A means to an end. Klaus leans himself into you, wanting you to feel yourself pressed into the bed, into him. If he covers you in him, you can't cover yourself in all the metaphysical shit you want to cover yourself in. But he has other plans for you tonight. Something to make your mind wander and put the sadness out of your mind. He strips you bare, piece by piece, hands and tongue racing to cover the newly bare skin. But then he stands up, and you openly and unabashedly whine at the loss of contact. 

But he shoots you a smile, to smooth away the pout, and reaches into one of the drawers. Of course he would go there tonight. Sneaky fucker always has something kinky up his sleeves. He unceremoniously sheds his clothes before returning to your bed, a bright purple, thick vibrator in his hands. The terminator, as you called it. When he returns to the bed he clasps your hands while transferring the terminator to them, placing a kiss on one of your knuckles before withdrawing and circling around to the other side of the bed where your head was. This was different.

“Fuck yourself with it, stuff it against your clit, do it,” he urges, leaning down your body and grabbing your left ankle, then your right. Lifting them into the air, his arms straight out in front of him to keep them parted and away from your body.  You obey, pressing the vibrator to your clit, rubbing it idly on the lowest setting, enough to moan through closed lips and to earn a smile from Klaus above you. 

“That's right, now push it in deep.” you obey again. Pushing the vibrator in as far as it will go, and turning it up to the highest setting. 

Immediately heat floods your body, a shiver wracking your body outright. Its powerful, you find yourself thinking there might be new batteries in the thing, or maybe your nerves are fried from emotional exhaustion. He holds your legs, though you struggle in vain against his hold, your climax rushing already from the sharp vibrations wracking your cunt unmercifully. He stares down at you not unlike a predator stalking its prey, that dark glint in his eye something dangerous and beautiful. He watches as you come undone, shaking and shivering and clenching around the vibrator, almost fascinated by the scene and the way you quietly thank him before sliding the toy out of you.

“Done so soon? I thought you wanted me to make you feel good,” his tone is playful but the intent is anything but. This is less a game, you know he means war. Tonight won’t end until you physically can’t move, and Klaus will make sure of it, you realize. The vibrator slides back into place, and even though you haven’t caught your breath from coming, your moaning and gently rocking your hips as you keep the toy in place.

“Open up for me, lover?” and you turn your head to be met with his hard cock, already leaking for you. Your lips part, welcoming him in as he starts to move, slow shallow thrusts against your lips and ready tongue. Your tongue lavishes his length gently savoring the feel of his soft skin against you as it travels the length within your mouth. Surely, Klaus moans in approval, little hums spurring you on as his thrusts get a little deeper, but staying on the conservative side of your molars. You love to get him off like this. It stirs your second orgasm up, pushing you to the brink with each little moan and thrust he gives as he shows his appreciation for you. When it hits you, the orgasm, the shuddering of your entire body, a moan rips itself from your throat and you moan around him, causing his hips to sputter, head of his cock bouncing against your throat. You turn the vibrator down with shaky hands, feeling the effects start to wear on your body. 

“Shiiiiiit shit oh my god,” he slips his cock from your mouth entirely, and your lips chase after it. “Did I hurt you?”

“Do it again,” your breathy voice, the open waiting mouth, Klaus has no choice to obey, pushing back in and not caring about the gentleness of a shallow thrust. He pushes until you gag a little, letting up only to let you breath, but keeping himself in your mouth as far as possible. 

“No, no sweet thing turn it back up, I wanna feel you moan all the way from the back of your throat,” commanding prophet voice, you recognize, and once again the vibrating onslaught begins. He holds you there, laboring to breathe as the toy wrecks your body, shaking and contorting from the overstimulation. He moans and praises you as his hips thrust, fully fucking your mouth until the tip of his cock bumps at your throat, relishing in the feeling of your warm soft lips wrapped around him and the whimpering, pleading moans from your throat. 

“One more, can you do that?” he checks in, “Can I finish in your mouth tonight?”

The hand not holding the toy in your soaked and aching pussy gives him a thumbs up, and he begins to thrust a little faster, earnestly trying to finish before you do. You almost can't tell where the normal overstimulation ends and your third orgasm begins, but a particularly hard spasm in your leg jerks Klaus’ arm forward, and you think that's probably it. He lets your legs go after that, letting you ease your back and drop the toy on the bed. When he looks down at you, all is lost. 

You look fucking beautiful. A goddess with smeared make up and a cock in your mouth. He’s never kidding when he says he would get people to worship you. If only everyone could see how beautiful you look, but honestly he would never fucking let them. Not after the tent situation. He watches your eyes as he finishes, silent promises and praise as he smiles and watches your throat bob, swallowing every last drop.

 There's an audible pop as he pulls himself from your mouth, your lips chasing to press a last little kiss to the tip before he’s too far away. He runs a hand through your hair, squeezes a breast, and then rounds the other side of the bed to grab the vibrator and put it away so you don’t accidentally lose it in the bed. That’s happened before.

“Remember,” Klaus starts, comforting partner voice, “in every dark cloud there's a purple vibrator.”

“No, that's not the phrase,” you dismiss, but you take his well meaning to heart. He crawls up on the bed, first covering your body with his, then rolling off to the side to snuggle up against you.

“Feeling a little better?” he asks, arms coming around you to squish your form into his bare chest warm and comforting.“How could I not be?” you whisper, kissing his skin and adding a little thank you that he might not even hear.

“Still want me to fuck you into the mattress, you wild thing?” he can feel you shaking from the collective aftershocks, muscles spasming and jolting under his firm hug.

“Save it til the morning, I’ll fall asleep if we try to fuck.”

“That’s not exactly flattering to my sexual prowess, but I’ll make you atone for that in the morning since you’re so tired.”And he kisses your head and you both drift off to sleep, on top of the covers and clinging to one another like life depends on it.

[stillebesat]

Scales (4/7)

Sanders Sides: Logan, Deceit, Virgil, Roman, Patton Blurb: Deceit hadn’t expected his absence from the Mindscape to be noticed by the others…until Logic knocked on his door. Fic Type: General Warnings: Shedding (snake style), Minor Injuries, Minor Pain, Touch Starvation, Death Talk Taglist in Reblog.

To Catch Up: Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Reveal himself? To the others? Like this?! 

Oh no. No. No. NO! Deceit violently shook his head. There was no way! Not even for...family. He could handle this on his own! “You really need to stop using that word.” He muttered, pulling his legs up and away from Logic. 

Leave his room? Get carried around like a sack of potatoes? Let the others see him in his weakened state? It was crazy talk. He was safe here. He couldn’t get--well he could get hurt less here.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Which word?” He asked, the barest of smiles on his lips. “Family?”

Deceit made a face. “No.” Stupid. Freaking. Shed. Making him all sentimental and--and…malleable. He was the one who should be pulling the strings and using manipulation, not Logic.

“Mhmmm. Well…” Logan smirked, his eyes glittering underneath his damp bangs. “If it’s working, I will keep using it.” He held out his hand, wiggling his fingers. “Your Family wants to help you, Lyal.”

“You want to help me.” Deceit said, his heart climbing into his throat. He never left his room during Shed. Never. “There’s a difference.” 

“I’m the only one who knows currently. That’s the difference. Give them a chance. You gave me one and it’s turned out alright, hasn’t it?”

But he was Logic! Logan wasn’t emotional like the others! “Yes, but--” Agh. Logic was using logic on him, and he was listening. Deceit looked down to his arm, his fingers twitching underneath the shed. “What could they give me out there, that I can’t get in here?” He whispered. 

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one still in shed. You tell me.”

His shoulders slumped. “Point.” Deceit conceded, reluctantly uncurling. Logic. Freaking Logic. He had done everything he normally would do in his room and it hadn’t worked. If he was to get his shed off before it did major damage he had to do something more...something...different. 

 Deceit exhaled, stamping down on the butterflies twisting in his stomach. Even...even if it meant going out...letting the others see him--could they actually help? Would they want to?

He ignored Logan’s hand as he stood, only to grab onto his arm to keep from collapsing to the floor as his knees buckled, his vision tunneling. 

Shoot! He was weak.

“I got you.”

Deceit barely had time to process the words before a band of warmth scooped up his legs while another steady arm supported his back as Logan lifted him bridal style. He inhaled sharply, flinching at the pressure on his left side from the other’s hand.

It was one thing for Logan to touch the shed. But holding him? It...he wasn’t used to so much contact. It was like a series of electrical pulses were dancing up and down his body reacting to the lesser heat that Logic gave off. It was an uncomfortable sensation, but also nice at the same time. Warm. And...okay it wasn’t bad. Especially when it wasn’t his left side pressed up against Logan. That contact would have been unbearable. The single band of the other Side’s arm across the shed was hard enough to tolerate.

“I--” Deceit cleared his throat, slowly resting his head against Logic’s chest, already knowing that arguing was useless. “I can walk.” He complained.

Logan hummed his disagreement, carefully adjusting his grip to put less pressure on Deceit’s scaled side. “You just told me your depth perception is off, which makes carrying you the safest option. Plus, you haven’t eaten in six days.” He reminded him as he turned for the door. “If. And I say If. You were able to walk, it would be better not to in order to conserve your remaining energy until you are able to ea---are you able to eat now?”

Deceit swallowed, closing his one eye as Logan shifted him a bit to get the door open. “I don’t know.” He whispered, shivering as they left his room, immediately regretting that he hadn’t grabbed his cape--not that he could wear it with the shed, but it was COLD out here. Drier. That couldn’t help him. He needed it to be warm and humid to get the shed off! 

Deceit pressed his head harder against Logan’s chest, seeking the heat he could feel there as he breathed in the familiar scent of paper and jam. “Normally food doesn’t sit well.” 

“But normally this lasts only--.”

“A couple of days.”

“Which fasting for that length is not unheard of.”

“Mmmm.”

“Six days though--”

“Is too long.” He knew that.

“You need to eat.”

“I….” Deceit exhaled, blearily opening his one eye, watching as Logan approached the stairs. His stomach twisted. He wasn’t quite sure if it was from hunger or nerves. The others were downstairs. He could hear their voices. They were going to see him like this. He swallowed, his heart rate picking up. “Yah…probably.”

“Can you?”

“I haven’t tried to yet, Genius. I don’t know.”

Logan huffed. “Point, but perhaps softer foods should be attempted first. Ice cream--”

Deceit winced, shuddering. “And freeze further? No thanks.”

“Soup then.” Logan said, pausing at the top of the stairs as Roman let out a particularly loud laugh below them followed by Patton’s quieter giggle.

Deceit gripped Logan’s tie, his fingers going white on the fabric, his vision blurring in his good eye. “Logic--” His breathing hitched as he moved his legs, shifting in Logan’s arms. This was a bad idea. He’d never shown the others this before. Never. They should go back to his room. It was safer. It was warmer. The others--  

“Breathe, Lyal.” Logan soothed, remaining still, his arms keeping a warm comforting pressure around him.

Ha. He peered over Logic’s shoulder to his bedroom at the end of the hall. Easier said than done. This was….this was--

“Logan?” 

Deceit tensed, ducking his head against Logic’s chest. Oh no. 

Anxiety’s voice came from the base of the stairs, taking away their last chance to retreat without being seen. 

Why did it have to be him next to see this?! Virgil would-- 

“Why are you--” Anxiety interrupted his own sentence with a loud curse as footsteps raced up the stairs. “Dee! What happened! Is he dead? He’s Dead!”

Dead? That reaction was a bit extre-- Deceit froze. Wait, was that worry he heard in Virgil’s voice?

“DEAD?!” Creativity’s voice rang through the common room.

Glass shattered. “Lyal? NO!”

“Guys! He’s not--” Logan tried to explain over Morality’s ear-piercing wail and Creativity’s loud swearing of vengeance as multiple feet pounded up the stairs. “Stop, it’s--”

Deceit hissed in displeasure as cool fingertips unexpectedly brushed his cheek. He jerked away from the touch, his left arm trembling as he half turned his head, his glossy snake eye staring at Anxiety’s vibrant heat signature.

“Dee?” Virgil whispered, eyes darting between the shed and the normal half of Deceit’s face.

“Annie.” He responded just as quietly, watching as Anxiety relaxed at the sound of his voice. Huh, usually he tensed up the Anxious Si--his nostrils flared, catching the swirling scent of cookies and pine needles just as the other two’s heat signatures joined Anxiety’s, surrounding Deceit like a wall of fire to his snake eye, their voices overwhelming his senses in a cacophony of noise as they jostled each other trying to see him.

“Guys-” Logan tried to interrupt.

“WHO DID THIS?!” Roman yelled over him, swinging his sword through the air, eyes dark with determination. “I Swear!---”

“Ohnononononohecantbehecantbedeadhecantbedead!” Patton cried, reaching out to Deceit only for Logan to deftly turn away so that he blocked the others from touching him.

“And I will SMITE them with MY SWORD--”

“Another Dark Side?” Virgil demanded. “Did they hurt--” 

“Ly! Ly! Ly! Come on, friendo. You’re okay. You’re okay! Pleasepleaseplease.” 

It was too much, far too much stimulation after six days of isolation, Deceit didn’t know how to react to so much...lov--concern. He tensed up, ducking his head against Logan’s tie in a useless attempt to hide from the others. If circumstances were different he would have already vanished, sunk out away from their attention. But considering that he wasn’t sure he could even stand...running away was out of the question.

It sucked being vulnerable. 

Logan tsked under his breath. “LYAL’S ALIVE.” He shouted. “He’s just weak.” He added in the resulting quiet, carefully turning back so the others could see him.

“He’s alive?!--what’s--what happened to him?” Roman demanded, his sword vanishing with a simple twist of his hand. 

“Alive? ALIVE! Oh, Lyal!” Patton blubbered. “You’re--” He reached out with both hands.

Deceit flinched back, reflexively baring his teeth, causing the father figure to freeze. 

“Careful.” Logan warned, taking a step back, holding him close.

Deceit hunched his shoulders before forcing himself to relax, taking some comfort from Logic’s steady warm presence. This wasn’t how he wanted things to go, but...they weren’t attacking him for being a monster. Not hating him on sight. He could sense genuine concern from everyone, even Anxi-Virgil, about his welfare. He cleared his throat. “It’s...I’m fine.”

Logan glanced down at that, fingers tightening on his legs, but thankfully he didn’t call Deceit out on the lie. 

“That doesn’t look fine dude.” Virgil retorted, fiddling with his hoodie sleeves. “Your skin--”    

 Deceit turned his head so the others could see his human side as well, carefully straightening a little in Logan’s hold, working to breathe normally. “It’s just...the scales shed. It’s normal for--for me.” 

“Normal?!” Roman demanded, frowning at the shed covering half of Deceit’s torso. “How come we’ve never--”

Virgil scoffed. “I’d think that obvious, Princey. Would you want to be seen if you looked like a walking mummy?”

“Well...no, but!--”

“Does it hurt?” Patton asked, bottom lip trembling, his eyes wide and shining with unshed tears. “Ly...are you...are--”

Concern from Morality. Deceit drew in a slow breath, ignoring how fast his heart was racing and without trying to think about it too much, held out his arm. “It’s just--sensitive to touch, otherwise it doesn’t-” He fought to not flinch as Patton tenderly took his hand, his fingers feeling like warm sunshine on the shed. “Hurt.”  

It usually didn’t hurt him...if it was under normal circumstances. This...was anything but that.

“I--” He looked away, trying to keep his voice from shaking, but it was hard...revealing your weaknesses like this after keeping them secret for his entire life. “I usually sleep through most of it.” 

“Which is why we haven’t seen Lyal this past week.” Logan added as Roman moved closer, his blazing heat like the flames from a forge as he gently rested his hand against Deceit’s cheek. 

“But?” Virgil crossed his arms. “Something’s wrong. Right? Otherwise I doubt that you would let us see you like this.”  

Despite himself, Deceit leaned into Roman’s touch, soaking in the heat even as his senses screamed that it was too much. Logan, Patton, Roman...all touching him. It...it was painful, yet he couldn’t find himself wanting to draw away. “Yes.” If he had his way the others would have never found out.

“This particular Shed is lasting far longer than it should.” Logan supplied as he edged his way through the others, moving them closer to the stairs. 

Deceit fought back the whimper that rose in his throat as Roman and Patton’s heat vanished from his shed, leaving his skin tingling. 

“Lyal tells me that his usual methods of using heat and humidity to help with the process are not working.” Logan said, his fingers tightening on Deceit as they descended. “So I suggested we come down and solicit solutions from the rest of the family to help him out.”

Deceit drew in a shaky breath, peering over Logan’s shoulder to the others as they followed them into the living room. There was that word again. Family.

“Humidity?” Creativi-Roman repeated, falling instep beside them, still peering at the shed, the regalness fading from his voice as his brow furrowed in contemplation. “But I thought--”

“How long is a good long for this?” Patton asked, hovering right behind.

“Th-three days.” Deceit managed, shifting in Logan’s arms as they reached the couch. He’d never expected the others to...to care like this. Sure, Logic had said that they would want to help--but--he hadn’t actually believed it possible. But even Annie was--- 

A growl reverberated from Anxiety’s chest as his hands clenched. “But it’s been--”

“Six.” Logan confirmed, carefully setting Deceit down, making sure he was stable before sitting next to Deceit on his human side, keeping an arm protectively around him. “I convinced Lyal to come out here to you all so that we could find a solution quickly.”

“Or?” Patton asked, taking a seat on the coffee table, looking into Deceit’s eyes.

Deceit shivered, leaning into Logan despite himself to keep close to the heat he was giving off. He pulled his left arm close to his chest, reluctantly keeping eye contact. “I---it can cause permanent damage to me.” His arm trembled. If it hadn’t already. 

Virgil frowned. “So why not just...you know.” He gestured to the shed. “Rip it off like a band-aid, Dee?”

Ri-Rip?! Deceit recoiled at the thought. “NO!” That was a very very bad idea! 

“That won’t work, Dr. Gloom” Roman retorted, crossing his arms as he continued to study Deceit. “If the scales aren’t ready, it would cause further harm. The skin has to loosen--” 

Deceit blinked, staring at Creativity in surprise. How--

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “How do you even know that, Princey?”  

Roman scoffed, gesturing to himself. “Please! Am I not the one always fighting the Dragon Wi--” He cut off, eyes sparking with fire as he plopped down on the couch next to Deceit. “That’s it!” He breathed jabbing a finger at him, barely missing poking the shed. “You’re doing it wrong!” 

He was WHAT? “Wrong?” Deceit repeated, jerking upright away from Logan’s heat. How could Roman say--WHAT?! “After thirty years of this.” He hissed, gesturing to his shed with a glare at Creativity, nearly nose to nose with him. “I hardly think I’m doing it wrong!” 

“But Dragons don’t need humidity to shed! I’ve helped the Dragon Witch often enough when she has to go through the same process to know!” Roman argued back, a stubborn glint in his eyes. “That’s where you’re going all wrong!” 

Off all the foolish things! Deceit scoffed, sitting back as he shook his head. “A Drag--I’m not some Fancy Creature of your Imagination Roman! They’re not dragon scales, they're snake scales you id--” He cut off, breath catching as he glanced uncertainly to Logic who raised an eyebrow at him, a slight frown on his face.

Hadn’t he caught the lie? He had to have.

Deceit drew in a shaky breath, pulling his scaled arm close to his chest. It wasn’t possible! And yet---“They’re snake scales.” He repeated, again hearing the lie in his words. A tremor ran through him. Impossible. “They--they…were snake scales.” 

Logan’s eyes flashed like a lightbulb turning on as he sat up straight, grabbing Deceit’s human hand, squeezing it. “Your scales changed.” He breathed. “That’s the difference.”

To Be Continued Chapter 4

[sector-i-closed]

Feel That Good

Requested by a wattpad user

Wooyoung x Vampire!reader x San

Warning: Blood drinking, voyeurism, dry humping and it may show I rarely write poly fics

You squinted your eyes to ready yourself for opening the door to allow your visiting friends inside your home, as a natural reflex your eyes narrowed to keep the annoying sun's rays out of your hypersensitive eyes.

"Hey bitch, I thought you went to sleep!" Wooyoung giggled as he spoke in a teasing manner while he stood beside San your other friend.

"Give Y/N time, she's older than we are." San elbowed Wooyoung in the ribs and caused you to smile at their actions, prompting you to forget about your raging thirst for blood temporarily.

"Hello birthday boy." You greeted San with a smile while playfully ignoring Wooyoung.

"I'm so hurt... She's ignoring me." Wooyoung pouted as you ushered the two of them inside your home.

The two males had been friends with you for sometime and you were able to trust them with your secret when San found out little things didn't add up about you as a person.

It wasn't easy for you to trust the two of them since you were naturally wary of humans but you trusted them enough to allow them to live with your secret.

"You're such a drama queen, youngie." You cackled tiredly as San and Wooyoung wrapped you up in a group hug.

"I can't help it that I'm fab, bitch!" Wooyoung stuck his tongue out at you and gave a high pitched giggle.

"You're fab when something is keeping you preoccupied." San smirked at the younger male.

"Hmph! Like what?" Wooyoung stepped away from you and San, giving a challenging look as he did so.

"Should I remind you of what?" San growled, the look in his eyes tured deadly for a brief second before reverting back to his playful demeanor.

You coughed to break up the tension between your two friends, though you weren't against watching whatever San was implying.

"What would our birthday boy like to do this evening?" You asked curiously.

"I just want to be with you and Wooyoung tonight. There's no one else I would rather be with then with both of you." San smiled warmly, touching your undead heart with the beauty of his face as his dimples creased.

"You really think you're smooth don't you?" Wooyoung rolled his eyes as he clung to your side.

The scent of the two humans in the room made you dizzy, reminding you of the urgency and need to feed.

You were distracted by your thirst and missed what San was saying until he called you by your name.

"Y/N, are you okay? You've got me worried." San tilted his head as he worried over you.

"I'm fine... But I think you both should leave until I can feed... I don't think it's safe to be around me right now." You stated regretfully.

"I've wondered what it would feel like to have my blood sucked." Wooyoung commented matter of factly, causing your vision to shift to red.

"You can drink from me, Y/N. You need to eat just like we do and I would not mind if you took some blood from me if it helps." San nodded, looking at you seriously as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Fuck don't leave me out of this! I want to help too!" Wooyoung nearly tripped over his words as he tilted his neck impatiently.

"A-are you guys sure of this?" You balled your fists tightly, feeling your self control falter with each tempting invitation by both of your friends.

"Yes!" They both replied quickly, their enthusiasm caused you to laugh darkly.

"You both asked for it..." You groaned, trembling as you took San's arm into your hands, turning his inner wrist to face you.

In a sleek, seductive motion you lowered your head and unsheathed the fangs that had been waiting to bite into any prey that you could find.

Carefully you pierced your friends skin, prompting him to involuntarily jerk his arm from the pain.

However, you held his arm in place and savored the addictive bittersweet taste of his blood landing on your tongue, sending a burst of pleasure to your head.

You hummed in delight as you drank from San, coaxing a quiet moan of enjoyment from his own mouth.

"Fuck babe, This feels even better than I thought it would..." San mumbled in pleasure, his arm going lax in your grasp as you drank from him conservatively.

"When is it my turn?" Wooyoung asked in a terse tone that made you smirk against San's wrist.

With care you extracted your fangs from your friend and carefully sealed his wound over with his tongue.

San uttered a soft moan as you made eye contact with him, the action not helping to keep his pants from tightening around his bulge.

"Where do you want me to bite you at, Wooyoung?" You smirk while licking your lips clean of San's blood, the animalistic gaze in your eyes paralyzed your other friend, his legs giving out to the point of him collapsing onto your sofa.

"My... neck." Wooyoung groaned in anticipation as you boldly straddled his hips.

San stroked his member through his jeans before unfastening them to access his throbbing length while he watched you hover over the younger male, pleasuring himself and watching you sink your fangs into Wooyoung's neck.

A whiny gasp escaped the younger male and you took pleasure in his sounds as you drank from him, his hard on pressing against your clothed crotch.

Slowly you rocked your hips against him, taking your time in drinking from him as the sweetness of his blood made you see stars.

"F-fuck that feels so good!" Wooyoung moaned, gripping your hips and rocking you at a pleasurable pace.

You moaned into his neck and continued to grind against his cock, knowing by the way that he tasted that he wasn't going to last long.

His moans increased in volume and mingled with the sound of San jerking himself off.

A strangled cry left your friend's lips and his release followed. You moaned into his throat and came at the same time as he did, followed by San who painted your carpet with his release.

"Both of you tasted so delicious." You purred in satisfaction after taking care to seal Wooyoung's incisions with your tongue.

He was still panting heavily, his face appearing fucked out as you got off of him.

"I had no idea it would feel that good."

[aestheticseungmean]

Skater Boy-Kang Yeosang

The consequences of a dare led you to a new group of friends who hung out at a skatepark. You’ve always wanted to learn how to skateboard and now you’ve got a teacher.

7.1K words (I swear they keep getting longer each time)

Warnings: None, maybe like five cursewords

Requested by no one

Edited: once

—————————————————————————

It was a dare.

That was the only thing that was running through your small mind as you ran away from the guy chasing you, scared of what he might do. “Wait-“ He stopped for a breath but you kept running wanting to keep as far away from him as possible, “Come back you little brat.” The beating of your heart was fast, fast to match your breathing that was pumping what you thought was not enough oxygen in your body. What was the dare? You were dared to kiss a random student from your college, anyone you wanted, and in return, you’d get 150 bucks. 150 dollars that you could spend on anything, even that new guitar you saw in the music shop beside the small diner you practically lived at. The same guitar that reminded you of your grandfather who played the guitar every day on his front porch.

“I dare you-“ Somi paused for a dramatic effect, “to kiss anyone on this campus!” Murmurs interrupted in your friend group as they tried to figure out who you would kiss. Lisa stepped forward to add in her own words. “We will each chip in 25 dollars which adds up to 150.” “Kiss someone for money. Yeah sure.” The hint of alcohol buzz from the party last night made you feel light and daring. Whipping their phones out to record you, their mouths dropped as you tapped on the shoulder of a girl. “Excuse me.” Her cotton candy hair waves bounced as she turned her head towards you. “Oh hi, ______! Do you need something?” Heads turned your way, curious as to why you looked so nervous. “I’m sorry,” you whispered before grabbing her cheeks softly and kissing her. Cheers and whistles somehow seemed to echo outside if that was possible.

A large hand grabbed your shoulder and turned you towards him. Shit. Shit. Shit. You repeated under your breath. It was the girl’s boyfriend, the captain of the fencing team, and the Chinese club. “Hi, Jackson?” It wasn’t anger in his eyes, it was worry. “You better run. Her dad is here and he saw it.” Right on cue, the girl’s dad, a very influential man, ran after you. You took off running in the first direction you could escape. “GET BACK HERE!” You hoped that doing track in middle school to get out of gym class would be of help so you called on the will to run faster. But alas, to no avail, you weren’t running any faster than you were now. The first thing you were going to do if you don’t die is make the girls double the money. “I WILL NOT HAVE YOU TAINT MY DAUGHTER YOU-“ You focused on something else knowing he wasn’t going to say nice things. “Wait-“

Carefully, you scrambled up the small wall and hopped over it, landing in some thorns but those would heal, you couldn’t necessarily rise from the dead. The man’s voice grew distant as he ran further, apparently not seeing you enter the fenced area. “Hey, are you hurt?” A male on the shorter side from all the males you knew approached you. “A little but I’ll survive,” you grumbled out as you picked a thorn out of your arm. “May I help you?” He looked harmless so you agreed allowing him to pick out the broken thorns in your hair. “Wow, Hyung. We leave you for one minute only to find you playing Tarzan with a girl.” It was another boy, this time a slight bit taller with a slender and handsome face. “Shut up, San.” “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your little playmate?” You couldn’t tell who was talking this time due to the searing pain in your shoulder where you landed first in the bush from hell distracting you. “No. I don’t even know who she is.” Suddenly, all eyes were on you. “I’m _____, nice to meet you and I am covered in thorns because of escaping a consequence of my dare.”

The group of boys were a bit taken aback by your abrupt introduction but introduced themselves. San, Hongjoong, Mingi, Seonghwa, Yunho, Jongho, and Wooyoung. You observed your surroundings when you had the chance. The vast area in front of you was all concrete save for the little plant areas by the walls. In the middle of the blocked in space, there were dips in the concrete. Ramps and stairs were scattered across the length of one side. To the other side, there were rails of all sizes and lengths. The concrete was immaculate with little cracks for optimum smoothness for the people in the park. Then it hit you, it was a skate park. You watched in wonder as people on scooters, skates, rollerblades, and skateboards did tricks and flips that you could only imagine doing. One boy caught your attention with his unique style of tricks, reaching heights on flat ground higher than you could jump regularly.

Hongjoong took you out of your trance when he accidentally pulled hair instead of a thorn. A yelp escaped your lips as your hand flew up to rub at the stinging pain hoping to soothe it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he apologised. “Joong is stronger than he looks,” Wooyoung teased, ruffling Hongjoong’s hair gaining a glare in return. When you were both sure that you got every thorn from hell off of you, you stood up and stretched your aching muscles. “I think I should get heading back to college-“ your words were cut short when you saw the father outside of the gate checking out the area, looking for you. “Or maybe not.” His brows furrowed as the man looked around. The minute his icy grey eyes landed on you, he marched through the gate and towards your way seething with anger. “YOU-“ Although you didn’t know the boys well, you silently looked to them for help hoping at least one of them would be able to protect you from the wrath of a conservative father.

Jongho stood in front of you acting as a shield should the guy try anything. One by one, the boys surrounded you, encasing you in a circle of safety with Hongjoong in the front where the guy was. “Move, my business is with that little brat who had the nerve to corrupt my daughter.” Some glances were made towards you, a few surprised, a few confused, and a few quietly cheering you on. “I’m sorry sir, we simply cannot do that.” Hongjoong’s voice was calm and clear yet strong and assertive like the ocean. “I SAID MOVE! I’m a very VERY powerful man and don’t think I can’t get this stupid park REMOVED.” You flinched and grabbed on the back of Jongho’s grey hoodie. Loud noises have always scared you, that’s how you grew up knowing you did something wrong. It was the only time people ever yelled at you, the only time they had a reason too but it still made you cower when someone raised their voice. You didn’t realize you were almost choking out Jongho’s hoodie until Wooyoung grabbed your hand and held it much to Jongho’s thanks.

“Shh, he can’t hurt you. We got you, _______,” Wooyoung whispered softly, effectively calming you down a bit. “It’s not your fault he’s yelling at you.” Confused as to if he already knew you, you looked up at him and you could tell in his eyes that he’s been in a situation similar before. His soft chocolate brown eyes held guilt and pain and sympathy. “You can’t have this park removed, sir. This is owned by a friend of ours who loves skateboarding, there is no way she’d sell.” “Yeah! Especially not to you,” Jongho taunted. The man threw his meaty hands in the air in defeat but his words were the opposite. “Give me the brat and I’ll leave you guys alone.” You winced at the emphasis on brat like it was a derogatory term and honestly, it was starting to feel like one. “No.” The guy, frustrated, lunged forward to grab you. His sausage fingers got so close to your face, you could smell the fake cigar residue residing on his unwashed hands. His fingernails were dirty and unkempt, bound to give you some kind of disease if he so much as scratches you.

But he couldn’t get close enough to scratch you. Jongho, whom you assumed was the strongest since he was alone in the fight, had punched him square on the jaw. The guy’s dirty hand left its position in front of your face to go and protect his own. “I don’t know who you are but you will be going to jail for assaulting me,” he seethed but Jongho paid no attention. “Next time you think about touching someone, make sure you don’t.” By now, a few of the resident skaters had started to form around the lot of you, watching and recording, ready to jump in if need be. A girl who looked a bit older than you strolled forward with some of the police off the street who saw the last bit of what happened. “Sir, this young man will not be going to jail, you will.” Cheers erupted as the man was cuffed, screaming the entire way out. “I'M RICH, YOU CAN'T DO THIS!”

“Sir, I do not care that you are rich. I care that you get a lesson of respect in our jailhouse with Big Dan.” A sinister smile crept upon the face of the police at the mention of Big Dan. “Don’t worry, Big Dan will keep you safe...in his yard,” another policeman threw in. Unfortunately, though you were safe, you had to stay until the police came back to get your side of the story and allow you to go home. “Let me drive you home. To make sure you are safe.” The female cop stood there patiently awaiting your answer. They had assigned her to interview you for mental reasons. To make sure you weren’t going to be scared if a big, burly policeman were to interview you which in hindsight is a good idea but stupid in your mind. “Casandra, we’ll take her home.” The group of boys stood behind you ushering you to join them. “Well, I suppose that would be better for you. Go ahead, go with the boys.”

You ran over, happy you didn’t have to go home in a cop car and be the college news of the week. You still were going to be the talk of the day but it will be because of the dare and coming home with seven attractive men. “Are you okay?” You turn towards the voice to see whom they called Seonghwa. “Yeah, I’ll be okay once I get home to my apartment and take a nice long shower.” “Do you live alone?” You nodded, yawning right after. “Do you think you’ll be okay?” “He’s not a mafia boss, I don’t think he will send any henchmen after me. Besides, I’m sure the girls will be hounding me about what happened.” The apartment complex loomed in front of you, even the doors made you feel small right now. The boys followed you up to your apartment, something that would be creepy if they hadn’t been so kind and helped you. “Shit!” You cried out realizing you don’t have the keys and you sure as hell didn’t leave a spare in the hallway.

“What?” Hongjoong inquired, worried that something was wrong. “I hope the girls are here because I don’t have my keys.” You knocked loudly on the door in the famous pattern that let the girls know it was you when you visited them. “Is that a magic way to open up the door?” San joked hoping to lighten the mood. You laughed a little which made him beam in accomplishment. “No, it’s so the girls know it’s me.” The door slammed open and you got smothered in hugs. “Oh my god, I thought you died. You look like you got ran over and-“ the moment they saw the boys, all attention was on them and not you. “Who are the cuties?” “Friends, now move into the apartment before Mrs.Kwon comes out here and yells at us.” You shivered at the thought of the old lady waddling out with her cane giving you the evil eye before screeching at you.

“Would you guys like to come in? I can order pizza as a thank you.” “We wouldn’t want to impose,” Hongjoong politely declined. “But I want to impose,” Mingi said before making his way over to you. The shortest chuckled and gave in. “Alright but I’m helping pay because these guys are expensive.” A smile graced your face as you let them in, the girls secretly thanking you for blessing their eyes. You shut the door behind you and turned towards the girls. “Do you guys know where my stuff is?” “I put it on your bed,” Lisa replied, not taking her eyes off of Wooyoung once. You rolled your eyes and made your way to the room to find your phone and wallet. On your bed laid your backpack and purse with their contents spilled on your bed like a mountain of odds and in stuff. You rummaged through it countless times trying to find your phone but ultimately you were unsuccessful. “Girls, where is my phone?” “Here I’ll call it!” Jongho offered, trying to get away from the girls who were flirting with them.

He rushed to where you just came from pulling you with him. His grip wasn’t tight but it was enough to know that he was desperate to get away. He shut the door and slid down the back of it, sighing. “If I had to hear one more pickup line followed by a wink I would’ve screamed.” “They are very stubborn when they are flirting, sorry.” You tried to offer sympathy but you didn’t know how to offer it. You’ve never really known when you were being flirted with. “What is your number?” Jongho had his phone out ready to call your phone. Once you gave him the number, he pressed the green call button and listened for the ringing. You could hear a faint male hello come from his phone. “Put it on speaker.” He complied and soon the male’s voice echoed through the room. “Hello?” “Jackson?” How could he have your phone? Did one of the girls give it to him? You didn’t have to think for long as he told you why. “You dropped your phone when you took off. I tried to give it to the girls but they were busy trying to figure out what to do.”

A few more words were exchanged later and you were on your way to meet Jackson on the campus lot to get your phone back. Jongho opted to go with you for “protection” as he had put it. It was chilly out but that was expected since fall was around the corner. Jackson was already waiting on the bench by the light post. “Hey, sorry about what I did to your girlfriend.” “Wait- girlfriend? You’re explaining when we leave.” You raised your hand to his mouth to shush him. Jackson shrugged. “It’s not that personal for me. I know you didn’t do it to hurt me.” “It was a dare,” you confessed. He nodded, shrinking into his coat feeling a bit of the breeze. “Let’s not do it again, please. She might start to go after you,” Jackson joked making you laugh. “I promise I won’t. Give her my condolences for my actions and her father.” “Oh, she’s thankful for that. Her dad has been annoying her for the past 23 years of her life.” Jongho tugged the sleeve of your sweatshirt to let you know it was getting late. “Well, I got to go. Bye, Jackson!” “Bye.”

The apartment was chaotic when you reached home. All of your games were out and being played in different areas of the apartment, most likely because of the girls. Drinks were strewn everywhere also courtesy of the girls who knew they were free to pretty much anything in the area. At least they kept the boys entertained so they didn’t feel awkward. A knock sounded on the door behind you making you turn around and open it. “Pizza!” “Thank you, here is your tip.” The delivery boy thanked you and left you with the 10 pizzas teetering in your hand. Thankfully, Jongho who was right beside you, took half of them and carefully stepped over the boys, girls, and games. You tried to follow suit but you weren’t necessarily the most graceful person. Somi grabbed four of the pizzas and left you with just one and you thanked her, feeling less burden carrying just one pizza. Everyone cleaned up their games and put them back before you allowed them to grab a pizza and sit on the couch to watch a new movie.

The time went by quickly and so did the pizza. Even though you had just met the boys, it felt like they have been your friends forever. They gave you that sense of comfort and you almost felt like you could tell them your deepest darkest secrets without being judged or laughed at and it made you feel good. Maybe this newfound friendship would be a long one. Seonghwa was the first to stand up, distracting you from thinking about them for much longer. He collected the trash and attempted to clean up a little bit, not wanting to leave the house that he was a guest in messy as it would eat him up alive. Little by little, the boys all stood up, said goodbye to you, and asked for your number to be able to meet up with you again under different circumstances. You complied and walked them out. Exhausted from the day's events, you laid down in your bed not bothering to wake up the girls. Almost immediately as your head hit the pillow, sleep consumed you and dreams filled your head. Thankfully, tomorrow was a weekend so you had nothing to do.

——————————

A few of the girls had left due to papers to write for their unbearable professors. Somi, Lisa, and Maria stayed over since they were in the same class as you and also had no homework. You grabbed a quick shower washing the bad vibes of yesterday off before starting today. Once you were satisfied, you threw on a random pair of jeans and a loose shirt. “Hey, Wooyoung asked if he and the boys could come over today so I said yes,” Somi nonchalantly stated as you made your way towards the diminishing stack of pancakes Maria had made. Grabbing one, you started to shove it in your mouth. “You gotta stop shoving things in your mouth, you look like a hamster right now.” You attempted to tell her to shut up but it came out muffled. “Someone’s at the door, go get it hamster,” Lisa teased, watching you grab another pancake and opening the door. “You have something in your mouth,” San pointed out while poking your cheeks, making you swallow the now chewed pancake.

“Ooh, pancakes!” Yunho eyed the last one in your hand and you sighed before handing it to him. “What!? Did the pancake loving _______ just give up the last pancake to Yunho?” Somi asked in disbelief that you actually gave up any food let alone a pancake. “Yes I did, I’m capable of being nice thank you very much.” You allowed the boys to enter into the apartment and sit wherever they want. “We want to know if you three want to go to the skatepark with us!” “I haven’t been in years, I want to go!” Maria exclaimed which took you by shock because she’s never mentioned she knew how to do any skateboarding or such. Nevertheless, you and the girls agreed but now you had to wait for them to get ready. You plopped down on the couch next to Mingi and sighed. “Everything alright?” He asked. “Yeah, just sore. Those thorns felt like talons digging into my skin.” Jongho perked up ready to say something he hoped to make you laugh instead of cringe. “If it makes you feel any better, I think that guy yesterday is having a worse day.” You giggled remembering the bloody nose and busted cheek on the man while he was being carted away to Big Dan.

A sharp ring filled the air with its cries signaling someone was getting a call. You assumed it was Seonghwa judging from the way he reached for it first putting it on speaker. A deep voice cut through the air startling you. “Hyung, are you coming today or what?” “Yeah, we’re bringing a few friends though so we are waiting on them.” An ‘oh’ came from the other side and you couldn’t tell if it was a good oh or bad oh. “Is it that person from yesterday that decided to go over the wall into the thorns instead of walk through the gates?” The voice inquired, just slightly curious because you were the first person that had the balls to climb the wall and fall into thorns. “Mmhm. Them and a few of their friends.” “Okay, I’ll see you soon.” With that, he hung up not caring if Seonghwa had said goodbye or not. It came across as rude at first but when you saw that none of the boys paid attention to it, you assumed that was just part of his personality. “We’re ready!” You turned to see the girls all dressed in different styles which makes you wonder again, how did you all become friends when you were so different?

The park wasn’t as crowded as usual which was a bit of relief. Somewhere along the trip, the group was forced to stop so Maria could buy a skateboard since she left hers at home hours away. Lisa decided to buy roller skates to see if she could skate around in them again like she did when she was a toddler. You bought nothing knowing you wouldn’t be able to stay up that well so it was a waste of money. Maria was the first to start refreshing her memory and soon enough, she was doing tricks on the half-pipe and in the pool-like area. Feeling envious, you watched as she aced everything almost as if she never stopped. Lisa on the other hand, struggled a bit. She fell many times before she remembered the little tricks and tips her father had taught her. “They’re so good.” Your voice was laced with jealousy but your face was stoic. “Careful there, someone might think you are jealous,” San teased. “Because I am. I’ve always wanted to learn how to ride a skateboard but I never had a teacher.”

Hongjoong had stated that his friend would be there soon. It wasn’t long before Maria rolled up with a big grin on her face. “That was so fun! You guys should try.” “______ will!” Someone volunteered you and you wanted to slap them but before you could protest, Jongho had pulled you up towards the skateboard. “Just stand on it and I’ll push you.” He helped you up onto the skateboard. Just standing there, you felt queasy and wobbly. “I don’t think I can do this,” you cried out as Jongho pushed you forward on the skateboard. “Of course you can. Your balance can’t be that ba-“ His words were cut short as the skateboard flew out from underneath you. You fell forward, your eyes shut bracing yourself for the impact onto the cold, hard concrete. It never came. Hands had grabbed your arm to save you from falling as your face came into contact with a firm chest. The hands pulled you up so you were in a standing position. “Yeosangie to the rescue!” Wooyoung cheered out as you caught a glimpse of the boy in front of you.

Your jaw dropped and you let out an inaudible gasp. It was the boy you watched the day you fell in the park. “Careful,” his words were brash and empty. Yeosang turned towards the boys and headed over to sit on the concrete garden ledge with the others completely ignoring you. “Sorry,” you mumbled, not caring if he heard or not. “Be nice, Sang,” Hongjoong warned watching the interaction between you two knowing that his friend wasn't the nicest to new people. He didn’t mean it to be rude, Yeosang just didn’t know how to give the best first impressions and Hongjoong didn’t want him to scare you away. Luckily, you brushed it off not being so good with first impressions yourself. “Hey, you’re the dude with the awesome frontside heelflip!” Maria exclaimed, gushing over Yeosang’s skills. “Thanks.” This time his voice wasn’t as formed, as if he was embarrassed or flustered that someone had complimented him. “Is Sangie blushing?” “No.” He stood up and walked back towards the rails ignoring everyone for the rest of the day.

—————————————-

It’s become a ritual for you to go with the boys to the skate park. You swore Yeosang hated you or had a vendetta against you at least but nothing was clear. Occasionally, the girls would go with you but more often than not, they were busy with school or work. Today was no different save for the fact that the boys were busy as well. For some reason, you found the grinding of wheels against concrete and the here and there cheers when someone did a trick soothing. So, to clear your mind you headed to the one place you could probably find blindfolded. The sun was beating down on everything around you, sharing its warmth which was a nice change of pace from the chilly days. Instead of sitting on the concrete garden wall that has become a staple to you, you sat on a little grass patch in the corner. You brought a book in case you wanted to read but all the action made you curious. Eventually, you did get around to reading and somehow you were lulled to sleep. It was sunset when you woke up. Your book which you had fallen asleep with open was now neatly closed with a bookmark in it sitting next to your bag.

You sat up to see if everything was still in there when a coat fell off of you. “Don’t worry, everything is still there,” a familiar voice responded. Quickly, you turned your head towards where the voice came from, and low and behold, it was Yeosang. He was walking towards you with his board in one hand and a helmet in the other. You stifled a laugh at his helmet hair flying everywhere but all in all it suited him. “Is this your jacket?” Yeosang nodded and you rushed to dust it off and give it back to him. “Keep it for now, it’s getting cold out. I was waiting for you to wake up to make sure you got home safe.” It made your heart leap with joy that he waited for you but you also felt guilty. Mingi had said that Yeosang did not like to be out late because he likes to sleep and you kept him from his sleep. “I’ll treat you to some chicken in return for me stealing your sleep time.” Yeosang chuckled lightly before holding his now free hand out to help you up. “Sounds like a deal but uh…. who told you you were stealing my sleep time?” “Mingi.”

Thankfully, the chicken place was still open by the time you got there. They allowed you and Yeosang to sit at the outside tables and eat while they cleaned the inside preparing to lock the doors. “Mingi is a liar,” Yeosang stated in between bites. You were taken aback a bit but questioned why he said such a thing. “He does it to be funny and his words are mainly true but if there is food involved, you can interrupt my sleep time anytime.” You giggled at his statement feeling honoured knowing that the best apology for Yeosang is food. “So why did you come to the skate park today?” “I find skateboarding fascinating and fun looking so I go to watch people mainly. I like to live vicariously through them.” Suddenly, you found your last piece of chicken depressing and returned it to its place on the plate. “Why live through people instead of learning it?” “I’ve never been able to have someone teach me anything. Like, I don’t even know what the foot positioning is or how to stop, I just know that you push off and somehow end up standing sideways on the board.”

“I’ll teach you.” You perked up and looked him in the eye. “You’re serious?” When he nodded you jumped up in joy. “This is going to be the best day of my life.” Yeosang laughed watching you dance into the empty streets and back towards him. “YEOSANG IS THE GREATEST PERSON EVER!” He was glad that you guys were in the shopping part of town otherwise, he would’ve killed you for embarrassing him. The whole way back to the skatepark you skipped happily beside Yeosang who eyed you from the corner of his eyes. At first, you were worried about the darkness of the park but Yeosang reassured you that there were lights for people who’d rather skate at night. “We won’t be doing the fancy stuff. Just trying to get you to go like two feet without falling off for today.” “You mean, this will happen more than once?” He gave you a ‘duh’ look and opened the gate for you. “And they say chivalry is dead.” “It is, I just don’t trust you to open this gate. You might attract some random person threatening to arrest you again.”

You scoffed but walked in anyways leaving him behind. “I’ve got the skateboard.” Sighing, you turned around and walked back towards him. “That’s what I thought.” “You’re mean.” He waved the skateboard in your face as if saying ‘I’m the teacher so be nice’. “Okay so starting off, positioning. Put your foot here, just beneath the front bolts. Once you get more comfortable, it might change.” You did as he said putting your foot beneath the top bolts. “Wait.” Before you could ask, Yeosang put the helmet on your head and snapped it. “Safety first, don’t want to destroy the last two brain cells of yours.” You grumbled, mocking his words. “Last two brain cells. Asshole.” “What was that.?” Mustering up the most innocent eyes you could, you turned towards him and replied. “Nothing, sir. I’m ready for further instruction.” The ‘sure’ look on his face let you know that he had heard what you said but nevertheless let it go. “Hold my hand for balance while you push off. To get used to the skateboard, you must first get used to the bumpy feeling of the wheels against the concrete.” You grabbed his hand in a vice-like grip making him wince. With your left foot, you pushed off and move it behind you on the board. “Now turn your feet.”

By the time you had started to turn your feet, you fell off the board. “Good first run. Let’s go again.” It was around midnight when Yeosang tried to coax you into going home. “One more time, please!” You were bound and determined to get this right by the end of the night. “Fine.” Once again, you grabbed his hand and pushed off. Successfully, you managed to turn your feet and ride for a good 5 feet before the skateboard stopped itself. “I DID IT, YEOSANG!” You jumped off and high-fived him jumping up and down at your success. “Meet you here tomorrow at the same time.” “No, I’ll see you tomorrow before then. The boys asked me here to hang out.” Yeosang nodded and began to walk you out. “Where do you live?” “At the apartment complex by the college.” He walked you the entire way home making you feel warm inside. You bid him a goodbye and watched him skate away before heading inside feeling as though you just solved the mysteries of the universe.

—————————-

Yeosang didn’t interact with you much during the day except for a small wave but when night came, he was all business. You two had a deal. He taught you how to ride a skateboard and you bought him chicken. It was a fair deal to both of you and it worked out for the following month. At this point, you were able to skate so Yeosang decided to teach you a few basic tricks. It was an everyday ritual. From sundown to midnight you practiced and honed your skills with Yeosang who was surprisingly really fun to hang out with and is very encouraging. The boys were starting to notice you and their friend hanging out more and talking even to the point he’d come up to you with your favourite pop he had just bought. Two of them (WOOYOUNG AND SAN) decided to tease you and him about your growing friendship calling it a crush which led to you blushing and Yeosang smacking them upside the head.

—————————-

Your phone buzzed signaling you got a text.

You laughed at the little banter you just had and decided that you could finish your show before heading out. Being at the park in the middle of the night without Yeosang felt weird and it wasn’t like you could practice skateboarding as you had always used his. You sat on the ledge humming to yourself, waiting on Yeosang and shivering slightly. “Why did I forget to bring a jacket?” As if the world heard you, the breeze stopped for a few minutes allowing you to warm up. “You didn’t bring a jacket. Pitiful.” “Yeosang!” Your body jumped up before you could realize it and was already moving towards the boy. “I got you something. A present I guess.” “Eh? You got me a present? Are you sick?” You reached out for his forehead making him step backwards. “I’m not sick. Now take this present and open it before I return it.” He handed you a wrapped box with a cute little bow on top of it making you smile. “I uh, customised it,” his voice quavered as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously awaiting your reaction. The wrapping tore easily giving you a quick entrance to a long blank packing box.

Your hands fumbled with the tape a bit before Yeosang had to stepped in and helped you. Inside was a skateboard that was brand new with multicoloured wheels. Gingerly, you pulled it out and flipped it over, running your fingers along the cherry blossom design on the bottom of the deck. In the bottom corner stood his painted signature. “Yeosang, you did this for me?” Tears welled up in your eyes as you set down the skateboard and grabbed the helmet and pads which sported a similar look. “Oh, Yeosang.” You tackled him in a tight hug thankful that he had worn a black shirt so your tears couldn’t be seen. His arms wrapped around you in response hugging you back. The two of you stood like that until Yeosang pulled away and put the helmet on you, snapping it like he had the very first night. “Give it a try.” You grabbed the skateboard from him and set it down carefully, almost trying to preserve the prettiness of it.

The skateboard itself was smooth to ride on. The tricks you had mastered were carefully done and perfectly executed making Yeosang cheer. “I want a picture of us together with our skateboards,” you huffed, a little chilly. “Okay.” The way he said it with such ease made you realize how far you have come in the friendship. A month ago, he wouldn’t even have looked at you for more than 3 seconds let alone be in the same 5-foot area as you and now here he is, willing to take a picture with you. Your phone sat atop the bench a few feet away with the 10-second self-timer on. Yeosang pulled you closer to him and held his skateboard so the design showed. You decided to do the same, sporting a big smile as you heard the shutter go off. “I can’t wait to skate around tomorrow on my brand new skateboard! This means so much to me. Thank you.” “Stop before you cry again. People will start thinking you are getting hurt,” he teased making you laugh and the tears that tried to creep out, dry up.

“Let’s see if you can land the frontside 180.” Your face fell at the name of the truck that has been getting your hopes down for days now. “Hey, don’t give me the long face now. I believe in you,” Yeosang cheered you on watching as you attempted to push off the ground. As soon as you landed it perfectly, you yelled in joy quickly kicking up your skateboard and running towards Yeosang. “You did it.” “I’m so happy I could kiss you right now!” He stopped for a minute blushing at the thought of your lips meeting his. “Wait- Are you actually blushing right now? The Kang Yeosang is blushing because I said I could kiss you right now?” “Shut up!” His voice was a few octaves higher now that you called him out. “Yeosangie, what am I going to do with you?” “Stop embarrassing me. I know that you probably don’t like me like that so just let it go.” Now it was your turn to stop. Just those words made you feel hurt that he wouldn’t think you’d like him but au contraire.

You’ve been harvesting a crush on him since the day you fell off the skateboard and busted your knee. He had brought you to the nearest pharmacy and tended to your wound telling you it would be alright while you cried. Now, every little thing he did with you made you flustered and it’s even worse when San and Wooyoung tease you about your crush. You tilted Yeosang’s face up to look at you and you could see the fear of rejection in his eyes. “Yeosang. Why would you say such a thing?” “Because it’s true.” A soft sigh left your lips as you furrowed your eyebrows. “I think I know me better than you do and I’m pretty sure I’m telling myself to kiss you.” He started to open his mouth to question you but you cut him off with a soft kiss to which he reciprocated. His soft hands made their way up to the back of his neck and pulled you closer not wanting the kiss to end, not wanting to wake up from this dream. Your lips to him, felt like clouds with a hint of cotton candy flavouring. Odd to some but it made him feel high on cloud 9. His lips to you were soft and warm with a taste of the vanilla cola he drank earlier. A euphoric feeling that you’d never be able to get enough of.

You were the first to pull away for air leaving Yeosang chasing for more. “Will you go on a date with me?” Yeosang was surprised that you asked him out first, not expecting you to be so bold even though you were the one who just initiated the kiss. “We’ve been on like 37 dates already if you want to count our skate practices,” he said as-matter-of-factly. “Yeah but we didn’t do couple things though.” “We can do them from now on. I mean if you want to…” you nodded and hugged him, confirming your relationship. “I just realized your hands are ice cold.” “I’ve been cold for the entire night, I forgot my jacket, remember.” Without saying anything else, he took off his jacket and handed it to you. “Wear this from now on, so the boys get the memo.” “You’re the jealous type aren’t you?” He almost got offended that you’d say such a thing but he knew it was true. “I’m not that jealous. I just don’t like guys who are good looking. For example, the boys.” “Whatever, Romeo.”

—————————

The first thing the boys did when you met up with them was question your skateboard and gear. “Let’s see if you can do better than last time.” You glared at Jongho, dropped down your board and skated away from him towards Yeosang who was behind the mini-vert fixing his wheel. “Hey, babe. Looking fine today.” “Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself,” he teased making you gasp and smack him lightly. The boys watched in the distance gobsmacked that you were actually touching Yeosang. “Is your wheel good?” “Just a second. Yeah, just had a rock making the wheel not move but I got it.” To make sure, Yeosang rolled the skateboard back and forth to check. “I think the boys are confused,” he said, glancing up at the boys. “Want to make them even more confused?” “How do we do that?” You shrugged hoping he had an idea instead. “Do tricks? Kiss? Hold hands skating back? All of the above?” Why did he give the fourth option you wondered. “Which do you want to do?” “All of the above?”

Needless to say, Jongho’s jaw dropped when you did an Ollie, Hongjoong almost fainted when he saw you guys holding hands, and Wooyoung and San screamed when Yeosang caught you off guard by kissing you. “Who? What? When? Where? How?” San fired question after question not giving you or your boyfriend time to answer. “Me and Yeosang. Dating. Yesterday. Here. We both got crushes on each other.” “But you guys never talked though.” A plethora of yeahs came from the others. “Good point, Yunho but, long story short, I fell asleep here one day, Yeosang waited, I took him out for chicken, I told him I wanted to learn how to skateboard, and he taught me. He also got me this skateboard yesterday which led to some words which led to a kiss which led to dating. Kind of backwards but it works.” Seonghwa sported a disgusted face when you mentioned the kiss, grossed out trying to imagine the guy he’s been friends with for many years and has never dated in that time, kissing his new friend. But ultimately, the boys were happy that you two were together and happy. Now came the hard part, telling the girls who’d never let you hear the end of it.

[thesoobfiles]

one stubborn senator – a. skywalker

Words: 2.1k

Summary: Senator (L/N) of Kyoi knows what she wants and she wants Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker; however, she’s also very stubborn and refuses to acknowledge her feelings for the prophesized Chosen One. Will her false front crumble when a certain Skywalker is assigned to be her escort?

A/N: this story is inspired by write-i-do’s drabble, ‘The Senator’. i suggest reading it because it’s great and maybe you’ll have a better grasp on this one. i might have used some of it (i hope that’s ok) in order to keep true to the drabble… also, Kyoi is not a real Star War planet. anyways, i really hope you guys like it, especially @write-i-do. since it’s based off your drabble and i don’t want to disgrace it with this madness… enjoy!

-

Anakin thought he was a generally lucky person; however, his luck seemed to change whenever you were involved. Whenever he wished to talk to you, you were always whisked away by another; whether it be Senator, clone or Jedi. He thought he had finally caught a break when he was assigned to be your Jedi escort.

Anakin waltzed up to me and began his introduction, “Senator (L/N), it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m-“ He was quickly cut off with my snippy remark.

“Anakin Skywalker. Yes, I’m aware; I’ve seen the holo-net before...” I said, unimpressed, “Decorated General, poster boy of the Republic as well as close, personal friend of the Chancellor.”

“What kind of Senator would I be if I didn’t know who you were?” I asked, a bit coldly; however, Anakin couldn’t help the blush that bloomed across his cheeks.

He cleared his throat, trying his best to hold some semblance of professionalism, “With the pleasantries out of the way, shall we get going?” I looked downwards at his extended hand and turned away with a huff.

“Why did the Council send you anyways?” I asked, making my way to the door, “It’s not like I can’t take care of myself; plus, I think you’re much more useful on the battlefield.” I said as I finally exited the room and left behind a much frazzled Jedi.

Little did he know, your distant behavior didn’t express how you truly felt; it was a front to hide your adoration for him.

I hope my cold demeanor wasn’t too much... Just wait until my Senator friends hear about this one! How lucky I am to have the Anakin Skywalker assigned to me! I thought with excitement as I made my way onto my ship, Anakin not far behind me.

He walks on the ship and heads for the cockpit, throwing a glance your way. You’re sitting on the bench attached to the wall with your legs crossed one over the other and your eyes closed; a mix between a scowl and a blank expression over taking your features. He continues his trek to the pilot’s seat and sits down, defeated.

Even with her face in a scowl, she is the most beautiful creature I’ve had the pleasure of casting my gaze upon. He thought while preparing for take-off.

I wonder the purpose of her prickly exterior… Anakin began to ponder, whenever I see her conversing with others, she always has a magnificent smile on her face and her eyes twinkle with joy… Perhaps the next time we engage in conversation, I can try and sense what the issue is… Anakin decided as he notes the ship is approaching the Kyoi system.

He puts the ship on autopilot as he heads to where you’re seated. Your face is still contorted into the blank expression from earlier as you appear to be… meditating? Your hands rest on your knees and you rest crisscrossed on the floor.

Has she been sitting this way for the entirety of the trip?

“Senator, we-“

“We’ve entered the Kyoi system, I know.” I respond with my eyes still closed, “Did you know it’s considered rude to interrupt meditation, Master Jedi?” I say as I open my eyes and tilt my head up, Anakin’s face coming into view.

“I apologize, I’ll-“

“No, it’s fine. The aura has dissipated anyways…” I reason as I leave my spot on the floor to walk up to Anakin, “and yes, I have.”

He furrows his brows in confusion, “You have what?”

“I have been sitting that way for the entirety of our journey.” I reply coolly as I make my way to the cockpit, sitting in the co-pilot seat and overseeing the rest of the trip to Kyoi.

“I didn’t say that out loud… How did you know?” Anakin asks curiously as he reclaims the seat of the pilot.

“The ability of telepathy is rare among my people. Many years ago, telepaths were hunted and killed for being… different.” I say, looking out the large window that separates the cockpit from the vast, emptiness of space, “Our ways have changed since then; however, there are still those who hold strong grudges against telepaths.”

“Do you wish to expose me, Master Skywalker?” I ask, turning in his direction. His mouth hangs open before he quickly closes it.

“No! Of course not!” He rambles out, “I was just unaware of this part in your history…” He trails off.

“Not many are; consider yourself lucky…” I say as I flip the switch that opens the door of my ship and leave him with his thoughts.

He does not remain there long as he hurriedly joins my side.

We exit the ship and head for my residence near the crystal caves.

The walk is filled with silence and Skywalker’s mind runs like a faucet; thought after thought entering his mind.

I wonder how much longer the walk to her home is... I’m not complaining, just curious…

The terrain here is wonderful… This is truly an amazing place to live, unlike Tatooine… I wonder if the crystal caves are anything like Ilum…

I wonder what I could do to change her attitude towards me…

Oh, an interesting thought indeed; but, in order to hide my affection, I’m afraid my attitude won’t be changing anytime soon, darling.

-like? Wait, I forgot she was a telepath… what if she’s listening?!

Anakin’s eyes glance over at me and my eyes are trained on the path in front of us. His gaze returns to the front and his thoughts continue. However, I’ve decided I shouldn’t abuse this power; I wouldn’t want anyone listening in on my thoughts…

While (Y/N) has left Anakin to his thoughts, Anakin has not left (Y/N) to hers.

Almost home, a little longer on this path and we’re there. Wait. We. Anakin and I… Oh my stars, I never took into consideration that he’d be in my house... THE Anakin Skywalker, in my house; how unnerving…

I wonder how much longer I can really keep this up… Why waste time hiding my adoration when I can just say, ‘Anakin Skywalker, I love you.’…

WHAT?!

Actually, that might come off a bit high strong and this is only our first meeting… But, he’s so amazing… It’s honestly hard NOT to adore him… He fights selflessly for the Republic and his compassion knows no end; not to mention he’s crazy good-looking.

Anakin raises his eyebrow and smirks in the Senator’s direction; however, she is none the wiser and is completely lost in her thoughts.

I mean, wow. His shoulder-length hair looks so soft and lush I just want to run my fingers through it all night… Seriously, what kind of hair products is he using?

Anakin holds back the urge to laugh.

He also smells amazing. I have no idea how, but he does. He spends his days fighting, probably sweating buckets, and he still smells great. Do all Jedi’s smell this good?

Probably not; Padmé actually insisted I try this new body wash because ‘It’s better than the cheap crap the Jedi make you use.’

And his skin is practically flawless… I have no idea how, but I’ll have to ask what his skincare routine is…

Also thanks to Padmé; she’s vowed to provide me with all of my toiletries from now on because she despises how much chemicals are in the ones the Jedi give us…

He looks up to see that they are within a 10 foot radius of Senator (L/N)’s home.

I’m impressed. She does a really good job of making it seems like she hates my guts. It’s crazy how she can keep such a straight face when her thoughts run rampant like this…

It’s a shame the Jedi are so conservative…

She walks up to the door and places her palm on a rock next to the door; it’s flat and embedded into the structure as if nothing was there.

Those robes probably cover up the most delicious muscles and no one would ever know…

I’m dragged out of my thoughts and stop walking in when Anakin bursts out laughing. I furrow my eyebrows and look at him with confusion as he doubles over with laughter. An unexpected noise, but a pleasant one. Who knew Anakin Skywalker’s laugh was such as blessing to hear?

“You, Senator, are a master of deception.” Anakin manages between laughs as he tries to catch his breath.

“How so, Master Skywalker?” I ask curiously, walking the rest of the way in my house with Anakin right behind me.

“How can you look so stern yet think such thoughts?” He asks with a smirk as he shuts the door behind him.

My eyes widen at the accusation and I swallow the lump in my throat, “What thoughts?”

“Shall I repeat them for you?” He asks with that glorious smirk on his face.

He holds up one finger, “My compassion knows no end,” My eyes widen once again.

He lifts another finger, “You wish to run your fingers through my hair all night,” I can feel the heat beginning to form in my face as he slowly walks towards me.

Another finger joins his other two, “and my personal favorite, how these horrid Jedi robes could possibly be covering up the most delicious muscles and no one would ever know.” He finishes with a triumphant grin. By the time he’s finished, my entire face is flushed and my heart is beating out of my chest. I collapse on my couch and bury my face in my hands.

“How embarrassing! Having such thoughts about a man who is forbidden from forming attachments…” I mutter from within my hands. I feel the couch cushion on my right sink and an arm wrap around my shoulders.

“If it’s any consolation Senator, I think you’re compassionate as well. Fighting for your people not on the battlefield, but in the Senate chamber.”

“And your hair looks as soft as it is feels.” He says as he takes a piece and twirls it around his fingers.

“And fortunately, your people are not as conservative as the Jedi.” He finishes as his fingers stroke the skin of my upper arm. I remove my hands from my face, sit up and look in his direction, ���Are you flirting with me, Master Skywalker?”

His signature smirk returns as his beautiful blue eyes look straight at my (E/C) ones, “Would it be so bad if I was?”

“Oh no, quite the opposite in fact; however, what about the Jedi code?” I ask, concerned.

He looks thoughtful, facing forwards and he stops stroking my arm.

I would leave the Jedi Order for you.

“What?!” I exclaim and push him away, his hand dropping from my arm, “No, you can’t do that.” I say, crossing my arms.

“You’ve probably trained your whole life to be a Jedi! You can’t give that up; especially not for me!” I say, surprised by his words.

“I’m only 21, Senator. My whole life only consists of 21 years and 12 of those years were dedicated to becoming a Jedi.”

“That’s more than half of your life!”

“So far…” He counters, “I’ll hopefully live many more years and I wish for those years to be by your side.” Anakin looks over at me and grabs my hands.

I look him; I look into his captivating blue orbs and really think about how he’d give up everything to be with me and we’ve only just met.

“2 years.” I say. He raises his eyebrow in return and I elaborate further, “If you still love me in 2 years, you can leave the Jedi Order and I’ll accept what I assume is your proposal.”

“Deal.” He replies with a toothy grin.

[lost-in-time-marie]

Into the Shadows: Chapter Six

           I stared at my reflection in the mirror attempting to recognize myself underneath the black bandit style mask (a replica of my shadowy hero’s) and knee length black dress. There was the familiar splash of brown hair, falling in loose careful waves to my shoulder. My hazel eyes could be seen, somehow more striking than before, thanks to the black mask surrounding them. My pale skin glowed in stark contrast to the plain dress. Perhaps it was just the fact that I was going to a haunted house that made my stomach curl or maybe the mask was giving me PTSD about the two times I’d been attacked and then rescued by some unknown hero, but I knew in my bones, without room for doubt, that tonight would not be fun as Natasha, James, and Aleks had promised.

           Halloween had finally arrived, a fact I would normally be overjoyed by, Halloween being my second favorite holiday, the only day all year you could be anyone but yourself and no one could judge you for it. The haunted house our school was putting on was making me uneasy, that’s what I kept telling myself anyways. I even forced Natasha, Sam, Aleks, and Katy to join the set-up committee with me, that way I would know all the surprises and plans so I couldn’t really get frightened when I actually went.

         “Pull yourself together, Kristin. You’re being ridiculous. Nothing is going to happen, it’s just a haunted house!” I muttered to myself, forcing myself to take three deep breaths. That helped, by the time Natasha honked her horn out front, I was marginally calmer and managed some excitement for tonight. This would be a great Halloween; I silenced any thought or feeling that disputed that fact.

         “You excited to see you lover?” Natasha teased, as I slid easily into the black, leather interior of her car. Natasha had been nearly incorrigible since I announced my impending date with James.

         I rolled my eyes, “You’re hilarious,” I muttered, in no mood for such cracks about James.

“So, are you crazy excited for tonight?” She grinned, her whole face lighting with excitement.

         “Woo!” I said, monotonous and unenthusiastic. Natasha scowled at me, but she didn’t have time for a lecture, as we pulled into the school then and hunted for a parking space. I groaned internally. This was going to be bad, I don’t know why and I don’t know how, but it’s going to be bad.

         “Hey, I’m going to hunt down Aleks. Wait right here,” said Natasha as we arrived at the now spooky main hall of the school, before snaking through the pack of awaiting students. I sighed and hugged myself in the cramped corner of the dim, cobweb covered entrance. This wasn’t the part of the school I had decorated, but I could see they really went all out for this. Spiders hung from the ceiling, eerie music played in the background, skeletons’ creepy grins poked around corners; even peoples’ costumes were done to the nines. There were vampires, witches, zombies; every horror movie flick imaginable met in this cramped hall waiting to be unleashed upon the rest of the school. The whole thing made my skin crawl. The brick building suddenly seemed even more imposing in the dark, it didn’t feel natural to be on campus at 8pm at night.

         “Hey, don’t you look comfortable,” Katy teased with a bright smile, coming to stand beside me.

         I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help smiling in return. “Well, you know how I’m so fond of cramped spaces and scary movies. It’s like my two favorite things collided,” I joked sarcastically, already feeling better with her there.

         Katy laughed, “Don’t be a baby. Have a little fun. So, what do you think of my costume?” she asked, giving a small twirl in the room allowed. I realized her black hair was pulled back by a simple black headband, and her round figure concealed by a conservative, white church dress, topped off with a leather-bound Bible in her arms.

         I busted out laughing. “I see you were feeling ironic this Halloween,” I said. Katy was a well-known atheist, constantly spouting religious arguments and disproving Bible passages. She played up the Bible-thumping, churchgoer to a T.

         Katy smiled pleasantly and curtseyed. “And what are you supposed to be?” she asked, eyeing my simple ensemble.

         I rolled my eyes, recognizing the I-should-have-dressed-you look. “A masked figure,” I beamed, enjoying my own private joke. Katy simply raised a brow and shook her head, accustomed to my odd tendencies.

         “So what’s been going on with you and James?” She asked, winking and giggling. I sighed. Katy and Natasha hated each other, but they were remarkably similar. I wasn’t ready for round two of this interrogation.

         “Why is everyone suddenly determined to get me a boyfriend? I don’t date, Katy, you know that,” I snapped at her unintentionally. It wasn’t her fault this was the second time I was hearing this, I reminded myself, trying to reign in my annoyance. She groaned.

         “Yeah, but you could. James sounds absolutely perfect for you. You couldn’t possibly be afraid of dating him; it’s all just too perfect! Practically what you wished for on a silver platter,” She argued with a deep scowl.

         “James is really great, but I don’t know…I just can’t,” I hedged, shrugging. Katy narrowed her eyes at me, clearly suspecting something was afoot, but thankfully Natasha was approaching us with Aleks- feigning mock annoyance to hide his delight- in tow. That was all the signal Katy needed, she jetted away with a quick goodbye.

         “Eww, were you talking to Katy?” Natasha asked, wrinkling her nose.

         I rolled my eyes and ignored her. “Aleks, are you seriously dressed as Vladimir Lenin?” I asked, laughing.

         “He was a great leader of Mother Russia,” Aleks replied with a grin, flashing all his pearly white teeth, and emphasizing his thick Russian accent. Sure enough, he stood before me in a fake beard and suit. I shook my head and laughed.

         “Hey, Natasha’s dressed like a hippy, so you can’t really make fun of me,” Aleks teased her, nudging her shoulder, and pulling the attention off himself. I took in Natasha’s costume for the first time. She wore a tie-dyed t-shirt and bell bottoms, had her unruly hair wrangled by a headband, and a peace sign necklace hung from her neck.

         “That is true,” I agreed. Natasha batted my arm playfully; we bantered like that for only a minute or so more before a teacher announced on the intercom several rules of conduct for the evening, and finally, the long awaited go ahead to explore our haunted campus.

         I had to admit, we did a pretty good job decorating the school, it was seriously sinister. Despite having helped set up, I still screamed a few times at different monsters jumping out and fake spiders touching me. It was a lot of fun, I enjoyed the company of my friends, I almost forgot the sense of impending doom I had started the night with. As the night went on, I noticed Natasha drawing nearer and nearer to Aleks and took that as my cue to leave.

“Why don’t you guys head to the cafeteria for food and whatnot while I see if I can find James?” I suggested. Natasha smiled and nodded gratefully while Aleks just shrugged, okay with anything. We said our goodbyes and promised to meet up soon. I headed in the opposite direction, not really looking for James, just wanting to give Natasha some space and alone time with Aleks. A tight sensation snaked around my chest, strangely suffocating, an unexpected, yet familiar, side effect of being around such sickly-sweet romance and purely innocent puppy love. I could tell she liked him dearly, and, to be honest, seeing people all lovey-dovey in relationships made me want to hurl these days.

While wandering aimlessly, lost in thought, through the dark halls and classrooms filled with costumed students, coffins, skeletons, ghosts, and other monstrous props, I ran smack into something. Something hard and sturdy, I fell right on my butt and what I ran into did not even budge. For half a second, I wondered if I’d gotten so lost in thought I’d actually run into a wall, but then I heard a familiar small, high voice.

         “Is she going to be okay?” The familiar voice asked.

         “Yes, she’ll be just fine. Believe it or not, this is actually the second time she’s run into me because she wasn’t paying attention,” Another deeper, even more familiar voice teased. My eyes snapped open.

         “It’s not my fault you don’t say anything, you just stand there and let me crash into you,” I fumed, staring up at the identical faces of Ryder and Robbie. I might have found it comical how they were looking down at me and making the same bemused facial expression, but I was too embarrassed to really appreciate it. Ryder rolled his eyes, but was unable to hide the smallest smile turning up the corner of his lips. He grabbed underneath my arms and easily hoisted me upright, before quickly letting go and stepping back.

         “Hello, Kristin, are you having fun?” Robbie asked unusually bright, grabbing my hand and then Ryder’s, tugging us along with him.

         “Robbie, Kristin might have somewhere else to go, don’t just drag her along,” Ryder chastised, halting Robbie and casting him a disapproving look.  “Aww, do you have somewhere to go?” Robbie asked glumly, his pink bottom lip puckering, sad, blue eyes devoid of the happiness I previously saw there.

         “No, it’s okay, Robbie, I’ll come along with you guys if you want,” I said, looking at Ryder with a raised brow. He shrugged nonchalantly and looked to Robbie to make the decision. Robbie grinned, instantly happy again.

         “Yay! Let’s go get candy!” exclaimed Robbie, releasing our hands and running ahead of us in the direction of the cafeteria, his one-track mind already fleeting to another subject.

         “You can have a little bit, but don’t run ahead too far, stay where I can see you!” Ryder called after Robbie, sounding, and looking, very much like a concerned father. There was something intriguing about the little flashes of the real Ryder I got see behind the mask he always wore. I could tell that this Ryder was truly him, that every day he walked around with a solid, emotionless mask on. For what reason I was still unsure, but I was certain the real Ryder was fun and beautiful, the kind of person that attracted other people, like a moth to flame. I wanted to know that person. I never could back down from a challenge. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Ryder and I were not friends, I still harbored a strong dislike for him, and he for me, but curiosity often got the best of me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Ryder asked, amused. I realized I’d been staring at him and felt a blush creep up my face.

“Sorry, I was just thinking,” I said, sheepish, turning my gaze to the floor.

“About what?” Ryder asked, curious, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking ahead after Robbie, who was winding his way through the crowd.

“Lots of things, like always; this event, school, things like that,” I responded with a shrug. Ryder chuckled. My head snapped to him in shock, it was rare for him to show any emotion, even in private, but at a public function such as this? It had never happened as far as I knew. He pretended not to notice. A full smile warmed his sharp, pale face and melted his usually hard eyes into glowing green embers.

“You have this remarkable way of answering questions without actually sharing any information about yourself,” He commented, casting me a wry look. I laughed.

“You are more perceptive than most. I was thinking about how you act very much like a father to Robbie, more so than an older brother,” I answered more honestly this time. Ryder’s face darkened instantly, like a storm cloud covering the sun. Regret instantly panged my stomach. I had allowed myself to enjoy Ryder’s company for a brief moment, and I managed to ruin it just as quickly. I wondered after a minute of suffocating silence if he would respond.

“Our parents…died,” he said, voice thick and heavy with sorrow, “it wasn’t very long ago. We lived in Washington, D.C, before this. My father was a scientist in a military lab, there was an accident and he was just gone. My mother died of a broken heart; they were so in love; she just couldn’t deal. She became so sick. My uncle and father were very close, he lives here on Long Island; he took us in. He truly is a great man; I owe him so much. Robbie was very upset, we all were, but he was missing something in his life, he was missing a father, and my uncle tried his best, but he just isn’t the same as our dad. I’ve tried very hard ever since then to fill that hole for Robbie. He’s gotten better, especially lately,” Ryder finished, struggling to keep his voice even. I stared for a minute just trying to process this tragedy, the hurt and depression were evident in Ryder’s hollow voice, dark eyes, and pained face, even his stance grew more hunched, as if some unknown weight were beating upon him, and as I studied him, I realized I recognized that feeling. The feeling of a weight you cannot hope to bear on your own, so obvious to you, but invisible to the world, the kind of burden that seeped into your bones until you were made of cement just trudging along, fighting for every breath, every moving muscle. This overwhelming emotion nearly made me double over, suddenly sitting heavy on my chest.

I fought for composure before answering. “I can’t even begin to imagine having to bear all that for your brother, it sounds as though you were very close to your parents,” I attempted, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. We stared at each other for a moment, somehow kindred spirits in our unknown tragedies.

Suddenly Ryder smiled, a small, sad smile, just the slightest lifting of the corners of his pink lips. “Thank you,” he said in a soft voice, “For understanding and not saying sorry. I know people are sorry it happened, but sorry sounds too much like pity. I don’t want pity, and neither would my parents. I’m sure I sound crazy, but thank you.” He ranted, all in one breath. I returned his smile with one of equal sadness. He wasn’t crazy; I understood exactly what he meant. Everyone said sorry when someone died, but it didn’t make anything better and they didn’t really understand. Sorry was often just disguised pity, and I never, no matter what tragedies I endured, wanted pity. And if I didn’t want that pity, I didn’t really imagine too many other people were deserving of it either. I think Ryder could see that somewhere in my face.

I cleared my throat, attempting to change the subject. “So where’s your costume?” I asked, scrutinizing his casual jeans, grey t-shirt, and black converse.

“I’m a stone statue of course, this girl I know told me once that I always look like a statue, frozen and stoic,” Ryder teased, pausing in place and hardening his face and tensing his muscles, transforming before my eyes into the familiar cold Ryder I’d grown so used to. I laughed, and though he kept his composed face, his lighthearted air remained. I could tell our previous conversation was a very secret subject that would never come up again. I found myself glad. I was curious about Ryder’s past and I spent so many days seeking this kind of explanation for his cold mannerisms, but seeing Ryder in so much pain was almost disturbing. The urge to reach out, to help, was overpowering. Natasha always said I was a sucker for lost causes, the savior of sinners and the damned.

“Oh, well, that girl obviously knew what she was talking about,” I grinned and nudged his shoulder. He laughed. It was a musical sound, oddly comforting and relaxing; I hoped for some bizarre reason that I would hear it more often. I became aware then, that I was the most relaxed I had been all night walking through these halls with Ryder.

“Robbie! Not so much candy, you’ll make yourself sick,” Ryder scolded with a soft smile as we finally entered the cafeteria and found Robbie loading himself down by the fistful with sweets. It was brighter in here and tables all along the walls were covered with sodas, punches, candy, sweets, and other delicious treats. Robbie was quickly darting around and stuffing his face with a little of everything. I laughed as Ryder stole bits of food from Robbie, who would then scowl at him so seriously, as if Ryder were stealing prized jewels from his personal safe.

“Kristin! There you are, I’ve been searching everywhere for you,” Natasha called, pushing through a crowd of people, Aleks following quietly behind.

“Oh, sorry, I got caught up,” I replied, gesturing to Ryder and Robbie, who now ceased bickering and stood beside me in stiff silence. Robbie waved shyly and half hid behind Ryder’s leg, Ryder gave a curt nod, his face and attitude totally reverted to cold, “stone statue” mode.

“We found James by the way; he’s been in the cafeteria the whole time. Sorry you had to spend all that time searching,” Natasha apologized. James slid his way through the crowd then and came to stand with us. Ryder’s face hardened perceptibly, I wondered how his teeth didn’t turn to dust from how hard he was clenching them together. Jeez, if looks could kill.

“We have to be going. See you around, Kristin.” Ryder said harshly, his words like daggers.

“Bye,” I whispered, staring at Ryder’s retreating form. Robbie cast one heartbreaking look at me, almost as if I betrayed him, before fleeing with his brother. I liked to think I was growing accustomed to Ryder’s abrupt shifts in mood, but every time he shifted gears, I found myself whirling in his wake.

“What did he want?” James asked casually, but I detected the slightest edge to his voice.

“Nothing, I ran into him, literally, and we just talked and walked to the cafeteria together,” I responded with a shrug, confused by the sudden change in Ryder’s attitude and the overly harsh, rude way he responded to James. Even James, easygoing and carefree, seemed to aim a certain tense, harshness at Ryder. It was exactly like when the three of us worked together for the Psychology project. James hadn’t liked Ryder from the beginning, and Ryder didn’t like anyone, but their dislike seemed to intensify overnight to sheer hatred of one another. I wondered if perhaps my imagination was getting the better of me again. Surely that was just Ryder’s usual distaste for everyone, and if I could hate Ryder so quickly on the first day of school, James could too. That was it, I was imagining the personal edge to their slights, I tried comforting myself unsuccessfully.

James nodded casually before Natasha expertly steered the conversation to safer waters. I shoved these confusing thoughts from my mind and attempted to enjoy my time with my friends. We stayed in the cafeteria for a little longer, chatting easily and munching on snacks.

“Hey, we should go see the dungeon exhibit, I want to see what it looks like now that it’s all set up,” Aleks suggested after a while.

“I know! We did such a good job replicating those torture devices!” Natasha boasted excitedly, already dragging us to the exit of the cafeteria.

“Natasha, I’m not sure that’s something you should be proud of,” I joked. We bust into laughter and started down the hall to the classroom where that exhibit had been set up.

James casually shrugged his arm over my shoulder as we entered the dungeon exhibit, a gesture I would normally have been delighted by, but today felt somehow heavy and possessive. I distracted myself by watching Natasha and Aleks. A little ahead, I noticed Natasha grab Aleks’s hand when she squealed in surprise at a skeleton jumping out at her. I caught Aleks’ soft gaze directed toward their intwined hands and the small smile of pleasure that briefly flashed across his face. I would have to remember to report my findings to Natasha, lest she accuse me of being derelict in my best friend duties.

James noticed the direction of my gaze, “Would you stop worrying about everyone else for a change and just enjoy yourself?” He chastised with a smile. I gave a small laugh and leaned into him further as we followed the twisting path of the exhibit.

“I’m sorry I can’t help it, what would you have me focus my attention on?” I teased, staring up at him through my thick, black lashes, in a poor attempt at flirting. I still hadn’t made up my mind about James, it seemed I always had more questions for him than I ever did answers, but maybe everyone was right. I should relax and appreciate the attention of an honestly good guy, god knows those are hard to find.

He responded with a seductive smile, leaning over to whisper in my ear in a smooth, low voice, “I can think of a few things.” I smiled and a bright red blush crept up my skin. I let my wavy brown hair cascade around my face, hiding my embarrassment.

“Oh, Kristin, I left my wallet in the car, but I really want to buy a picture of all of us here tonight, can you run back and get it?” Natasha pleaded. I jumped untangling myself from James, not realizing she had turned back for us.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll be right back,” I answered, trying not to look so guilty.

“I can go with you,” James offered, looking a little too pleased with himself.

“Thank you, but I’ll be alright, keep enjoying the exhibits, I’ll meet back up with you guys in just a few minutes,” I quickly waved off his offer, before turning and weaving my way back out of the exhibit to the front of the school. I was thankful for the chance to get some air and organize my very confused and messy thoughts. It was easy to brush off my interactions with James to Natasha and Katy, but another thing entirely when he acted as he did tonight. I found myself unable to control my heart rate and my limbs felt shaky and unsteady. I reached the school’s entrance quickly, without even noticing it, as I was wrapped in my thoughts. James had something going on with his dad and was clearly hitting on me, but as of yet, I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Ryder had a sad past and was just starting to resemble a human being, but he still irritated me with his superior attitude and unwillingness to associate with anyone, not to mention the strange drama playing out between him and James. That was definitely something I had to get to the bottom of. I hadn’t seen my masked hero since my birthday, I was surprised to find I actually missed him and still burned with curiosity about who he was and what he was doing and how he was always saving me, yet another mystery that needed solving. Natasha and Aleks’s relationship also seemed to be heading in a good direction; I wonder how I can help shove that in the right direction for her? The whirlwind taking place inside my mind was quickly making me dizzy and setting me on the brink of panic. I was holding too may loose ends of ropes and didn’t have nearly enough to tie any firm knots.

With so many thoughts on my mind, it didn’t even occur to me to look for cars as I crossed the street to get to Natasha’s Prius, my goal was in sight and I charged after it, foolhardy. Headlights speeding around the corner of the dark, ill-lit road in front of the school blinded me then. I froze and tensed as the speeding car headed right for me. My eyes squeezed shut and braced for impact. A great force slammed into me suddenly, at first, I thought it was the car, but it came from behind me, not my side. All logical thought quickly fled after that. My head slammed into something hard and the breath was knocked from my lungs. I peeled my eyes open in time to see the car speed away down the road, burning rubber in its wake. I realized I was lying on the opposite side of the road in the wet grass, a heavy weight on top of me.

“Are you alright?” A figure asked, from above me. I understood now. Someone pushed me out of the way. And not just someone. I knew that voice, it was the familiar worried voice that always found me when I was in danger. The figure was pinning me to the ground, saving my life for a third time.

“Oh, never better,” I joked, not managing an effective sarcastic voice. My head was splitting, I could barely think through the pain. The figure flashed a bright smile. That was all I could see through the black spots dancing on my eyes.

“Yes, I can see, so I guess you have no need for my assistance then?” He teased lightly.

“Don’t be an ass,” I breathed, attempting to scowl. The blackness was converging on my vision; I couldn’t see even a glimpse of my hero anymore. I heard him chuckle softly. How disappointing, the first time he is close enough to look at and I can’t even get my eyes to work properly.

“You hit your head pretty hard,” The figure said, his musical voice colored with worry now. Cold fingers pressed lightly on my forehead and I gasped as the pain knocked me breathless. “Very hard,” he amended in a tight voice. His cold, muscular arms slid under me, hoisting me up as if I weighed nothing. I sighed and leaned my head against his shoulder.

“Thank you,” I muttered under my breath. Then, for the second time that year, my world faded away into a peaceful darkness…

[dredshirtroberts]

Hooooo boy we are feelin some EMOTIONS today, folks.

this is not a happy post, if you’d like to skip I entirely understand, and in fact encourage doing so.

I’ve been needing to do a one of these for a lil bit because I’ve got Thoughts and Feelings and they are complicated and I can’t accurately parse them in my head so we’re gonna air it out on Tumblr like a sheet on the line during laundry day.

here’s the thing.

I got some complicated family feelings in my chest places and it fucking *sucks*.

I was kept from spending time with my family by various means over the past several years to the point where I wasn’t attending holidays - which, in my family, is just not done. You can skip a holiday but you have to make it up on another occasion and I...wasn’t doing that anymore. Two separate people had me convinced I was not loved by my family, that they did not care for or appreciate me like *they* could and that I was better off not being around my family.

And maybe they had some valid points. Which I hate admitting because they used a lot of “valid points” to get me to be completely isolated in life without anyone but them and any time I branched out I was, for lack of a better term, “punished” for having denied them my attention or time or whatever. (this is of course not as nuanced a take on it as I would prefer but this is already going to be long without me going through the whole...everything, again. You can search the captain rambles and life post tags on my blog for more on this topic).

Anyway...so I’m no longer with people who are actively trying to keep me from talking to other people/being around people who are supportive of my own efforts and goals, etc. And I was welcomed back into my family with open arms and that was...honestly unexpected. After everything I’d had told to me about how they were and how they should be and what I should feel about them...I wasn’t expecting them to love me.

I rode that rose-colored wave for a *while*. But as the world descends into chaos and I learn more things about myself that make me feel more like *me* than I have...possibly ever now that I try and think about it, I am seeing things that I had hoped had been exaggerated or made up by those in my life who had hurt me.

My parents raised me in a very right-wing conservative household. The evangelical style of christianity didn’t come until I was already an adult but the building blocks must have been there or it wouldn’t have happened so...extremely when it finally did. There were a lot of...really shitty attitudes towards other people that I didn’t recognize growing up in it - I didn’t recognize it until a lot later, in fact.

They’re...They don’t see anything wrong with the way they are. Which, you know, *sucks*. 

There’s going to be a lot of dismissive phrases littered throughout this because I’m trying to be...i don’t know. I do it as a thing to lighten the mental load on myself - dismissiveness and joking around, exaggerating for effect, etc. - which i know might come off weird but like...this is really fucking bothering me guys and I...I’m doing my best.

Cause here’s the thing. I was raised believing the world was one way and that we were *right* about things. We had the answers and anyone (liberals) who didn’t agree with us were wrong and would either see the light and come to our side or were too stupid to know how wrong they were so we wouldn’t have associated with them anyway. (reasons why i’m currently frustrated with the political opposition to Republicans/Conservatives/The Right #1 actually)

And then I grew up and I saw the world was not that way. And I expected that my family would be able to see the world with the insight I had gained, and..they just...don’t.

I’ve excused a lot of their shit beliefs recently. not like, trying to defend them to anyone or anything but I don’t confront them. Mostly because I know while they won’t say it to my face, I know how they think about people who think like me (because I was there for those conversations, I was there and I thought like them and now i don’t and that makes me one of those idiots they talked about, a stupid person who can’t see the truth they believe so fully that they think is backed up by facts and figures but their facts and figures are *flawed* - mine aren’t better but I can acknowledge that and extrapolating data from all the things and coming to a conclusion is what I was taught to do but now that I do it for the wrong side what must they think of me? What must they say behind my back?)

I have...a lot of kinda fucked up shit about my family. Nothing overt, nothing that immediately screams to me “Hey fuck-o, this shit isn’t a universal experience and something is wrong here!” but it’ll be small things that I’m like “Ah, okay. Not everyone had this experience and those that did are currently working through the *trauma* of it by going to *therapy*. Hm.”

I’ve done some work in that respect and that’s good. Doesn’t make my issues go away but makes it so I can handle them a little better. Most of the time anyway.

I’m trying to make several things that are true but contradictory work together in my brain and it’s not going well.

1) my family cares about me and wants me to do well.

2) my family has hurt me in the past and is currently hurting me (though not intentionally and not maliciously - please dear god let it be unintentional and non-malicious). 

3) My family does not “agree” with LGBTetc people.

4) My family do not believe that there are systemic issues inherent in the government we live in/under and the society we must participate in (Because it benefits them, and they have not had to challenge their thoughts on this before).

5) My family are kind of racist.

6) My family was my only support system when I was leaving an abusive situation.

7) ...My family might have abused me a little.

I go back and forth on point seven a *lot*. See point 2 about the intentionality/maliciousness factors. If they didn’t mean to do it, does it still count? 

Does it matter if it still hurts?

My sister outright told me that she doesn’t agree with trans people (meaning she doesn’t believe you can be trans, really). But I’m okay because it’s me, and now I can be her gay best friend when we’re drinking at family stuff.

She didn’t understand why I was hurt by that. I attempted to explain it and she got defensive and angry so I just...didn’t fight about it. Just played the part. I’m her brother when it benefits her but otherwise I’m still her sister. I’m still mom and dad’s daughter. Even though I told them I’m not a girl. I told them I’m a guy.

Dad’s response was the most favorable initially and I think...he might eventually come around to it (he’s always wanted a son. he has a boy dog and has also imprinted really hard on his lawn roomba about it). He also might...not.

I’d like to transition further. Eventually. If it’s feasible. But also, right now it’s not. Right now it’s me cutting my hair short and not wearing dresses or skirts (even though they’re super comfy) because I want to avoid being misgendered as often as possible. It’s binding for uncomfortable and unsafe lengths of time because I am a MAN dammit, and I will be a man at this family function in whatever way I can. And when I go to the length that I do to be seen the way I want to be seen and I am *ignored*....

fuckin’ hurts you guys. I just fuckin’ hurts. 

And I want to correct them. I want to stand up and say STOP YOU’RE HURTING ME. PLEASE. I AM NOT A GIRL. I HAVEN’T BEEN THIS WHOLE TIME I JUST DIDN’T KNOW WHY I DIDN’T FEEL RIGHT AS A GIRL. PLEASE JUST CALL ME A BOY, USE MY PRONOUNS, USE A NEW NAME OR AT LEAST THE NICKNAME THAT ISN’T MY FULL NAME. 

but i don’t.

because I’m scared of losing them again.

And it’s fucked up because they’re *already* lost. They’re Fox-watchers and Trump-supporters and they don’t want to listen to science or facts or *anything* outside of what’s presented to them by pundits and talk show hosts, and the fucking EIB network with their political propaganda for anything that isn’t what the liberals want.

And I don’t know that I can get them back because they’re *real* far down that particular rabbit hole. And I’m...I’m just trying to figure out what I want in life. What makes me happy. And part of what I want is what I always wanted and never had.

I want my mom and dad to look at me, see me, see what I do see how I try and what I love and care about and tell me that I’m enough. That they love me because this is who I am and I am enough for them. Even if I wasn’t accomplished and didn’t try they would still love me because I’m *me*. and I’m their *child* and they *love me*.

And GOD it is so FUCKING painful to know that’s not a realistic thing to hope for. Because I’ve been trying for 28 GODDAMN years doing ANYTHING and EVERYTHING I can to be enough for them. I played good, christian, conservative little girl for SO goddamn long, even when I wasn’t Christian or conservative anymore, even when I saw the cracks, I wanted to be what they wanted.

And even now that I *am* what my dad wanted (a son) I’m not enough because to him i’m still a girl, to my mom I’m the failed daughter the one she didn’t do enough for so now it’s about how she fucked up and not about NO. This is ME. Stop. Stop LOOKING at me like that WHEN YOU DON’T SEE ME. YOU SEE SOME IDEALIZED VERSION OF ME WHO WAS NEVER GOING TO EXIST BECAUSE SHE WASN’T ENOUGH EITHER.

...

This is a lot more than I thought it would be, pain wise tonight, guys. My bad. 

I’m still struggling with my eating habits, I’m still struggling with my self-worth, and finding what makes me feel fulfilled. I’m getting better at some of it though.

I’ve smiled and laughed more in the past week or so than I have since I came out to my family. I wouldn’t have done that without my very very good friends who are very very kind to me and god I wish I could do more than draw stupid pictures and write stupid stories for them but it makes them happy too? so i’ll just do what I can and maybe it’ll be alright. 

Gonna try not to fall too deep down the abandonment issues pit tonight folks. I’m already upset enough. 

Good talk.

[grim-faux]

10 - Run Rabbit

The man from the chair closed the door brusquely on my feet, causing me to scrunch up uncomfortably.  After I came to, I lay for less than fifteen minutes, I know this because I kept checking the camera, which I still clutched to my chest.  Probably not good for it, but it wasn’t soaked by my coat which had barely begun to dry while I lay in the dust.

 I NEEDED a few minutes to reset, for the throbbing in my side to settle in as the dry air took away the icy coil in my joints.  My eyes shut for a few minutes at a time, micro naps.  I swore I had slept for hours but when I checked the clock in the visor only minutes had passed, I wasn’t concerned with nodding off for an extended length of time, in truth I didn’t give a damn.  Maybe I didn’t care anymore if I sank into a deep slumber and never woke up, giving in to whatever demented plans Mount Massive had for my person.  Never waking up was the more pleasant way to end in this place.  The way out.

My mind began to clear as my senses tracked the air around me.  Strange sounds seeped into my skull, the muffled sobs of a man, hissing pipes, distant shrieks of some lost soul.  I felt my body shift and realized I was trying to push myself up, I wasn’t fully conscious of this but I was getting up.  A rough sigh escaped my throat as I moved, cradling the camera against me as I reached out with my other arm to push against the wall.  When I felt I could rise without collapsing, I pulled myself up all the way and took some small steps to get my balance in order.  I barely recalled the camera in my hands as I shuffled it between my palms, the functions still worked as I flicked through them assuring that no moisture had gotten through the seams.  A few new scraps were visible along its side where I had pressed it down onto the grate when I…collapsed.  There was a small gap in my thoughts that felt peculiar, a dark memory with splashes of terrifying images.  I shut my eyes and pressed my hand against my face. 

Everything from the dark depths felt like a loose blur, even the dull throb in my side was difficult to recall unless I made an effort to remember exactly what had happened.  It was painful to turn, I was stiff from lying in the cold dust for that short time, but I pulled my shirt out of the jean band to view the damage.  A small patch of skin was already turning a dark maroon and bluish shade, the colors seemed to be spreading.  Lovely.

A plate on the wall read Male Ward.  This didn’t feel like progress, but I suppose it was in some morbid media.  This wasn’t surviving, more along the lines of delaying the inevitable.  Somewhere, I’m not sure if I was hearing things or what but it did sound like soft sobs, but as I concentrated on the noises, they faded.  Maybe I was imaging things.  I couldn’t deny that my thoughts were not working well, my mind felt numbed while simultaneously elevated with the prospect of moving on, an off kilter clash of emotions.  I’d go as far to say my filter was busted, everything I was experiencing, what I was thinking….

I had to keep grasp that something was now wrong with me and the only way to fix that was to escape, I could recover from this with time.  But right now, time was my enemy.

The air was dry, and felt dusty and thick, I snorted a bit to clear my nose of the grime and turned the corner.  A large pipe ran along the upper wall, another water pipe, similar to the one spilling all over the basement.  The corridor I currently stood in extended some distance, there was a lot of steam in the air wafting off the surface of warmer pipes.  The opposite wall had a passage a few feet down that could lead to another room.  I doubted this, the entrance was arched and no door was visible, nor hinges, just shadow within.

Maybe a restroom?  I hadn’t seen anything close sense the showers, and that was something I needed.

Halfway to the dark opening, a shout crashed throughout the corridor.  A hostile, angry and familiar voice.  Shit.  Hopefully there was room inside, there was no place out here to hide.

This was just as bad as the corridor, a dark passage that went nowhere.  I spun back as my new friend ducked into the space, a bar held high in his hand.  I staggered away throwing my arm up to fend off the attack, my other hand held the camera which kept me from running into a wall.  Somehow, I managed to stumble out of his path through an opening I had missed, I whirled about and ducked the instant before the bar clattered against stone wall where my head had been.

“Get back!  BACK!”

I bumped and pushed away from the wall to retreat in what I decided, was a better direction than the other way.  As I cleared a thick vapor cloud nothing lay ahead but a solid brick wall, and a plaque I briefly glimpsed as I dashed sideways beneath another archway, then a sharp turn that led through a narrow corridor.

“Stay away!”

I grazed the walls with my elbows as I rushed, trying not to stumble on my feet when they scuffed the sides, my eyes fixed on the large crates coming into view.  It looked like I had a path on my left, unless it was blocked.  To hell if it was blocked, I’d tear through it.

The pipe glanced my shoulder, enough to topple my balance.  My shoulder slammed into the brick wall and I shoved myself away without missing a step, just had to keep on my feet and moving.

It was a rather sharp turn, then barely a step or two, I pushed off a wall that suddenly materialized in my face and bolted right.  Long lumber was scattered on the floor, I teetered over to reach a gate blocking the hall.  The other guy wasn’t as graceful, he had a misstep and fell sideways smashing his face on the wall and tumbled head over heel.  As he babbled something about demons in shadows, I tried the door.  Locked.  Of course it was, that was its only purpose.

There was another archway I had bypassed in my haste.  Quietly I moved around a wheelchair and stopped.

A man in a tattered straightjacket sat in the furthest corner, beside the steps I had raced down.  I hadn’t seen him in the rush, but now in the interlude I could make out…it did sound like he was crying.

I looked from him, to the man lying on the floor with the bleeding head, his eyes bobbed drunkenly.  It was probably best if I left it all as it was.  I couldn’t risk the running guy waking up in a worse mood than he already was, especially if he decided I was the cause.  I kinda was, but I didn’t ask him to chase me.  

My only option was down a spiral corridor, receiving that familiar humid draft with old blood.  So much for escaping the sewers.

So much for escape, period.

A plaque met me face to face as I stepped off the steps, labeling the Male Ward with an arrow of guidance.  Since when did reaching the Male Ward become my priority?  I turned and peered through a large tunnel, its draft intermixed with foul sewage and the musty chill of the asylum.  The water was diluted with blood, but it seemed free of the slaughter that had been present in the other channels.  Everything was getting flushed out.  My unease persisted.

I passed by some boxes of equipment and garbage on my way, a place to duck if I suspected I wasn’t alone.  A few steps down the tunnel and a figure darted out.  I paused, but it looked like another man in a straightjacket, only he was dragging his sleeves after him.  He could be dangerous if he got those tatters tightened about my throat, I continued at a slower pace listening as the soggy sleeves grew fainter and fainter.

As I turned the next corner, he sprinted just out of sight into another passage.  I turned back to see where he had come from, but there was only the remains of another collapse.  He might’ve dug through, explaining his loose coat, or he had been hiding there.  It was possible that I startled him.

That was nice for a change.

The path he had rushed into was bare of working lamps, I needed to take a moment to change out batteries.  I felt in my coat pocket, a hard knot forming in my throat.  I was all out!  To be absolutely certain I fixed the camera in its pack and pulled everything out of my pocket, but there were none.  Just my pen, notepad, and that damn granola.  I fixed everything in its place and turned out my pockets, knowing damn well if I found one in my coat, it had been soaked to hell.  I had a better chance at ruining my camera than anything else.

I froze when my hand brushed the case.  My nightvision was low on power, I couldn’t change the fact I had wasted the batteries.  Carefully I brought up the camera and checked through the visor.

The tunnel banked to my right, with no alternate paths, just the straight tunnel and a large pipe escorting me along the ceiling.  It was terrible, I could scarcely make out the obvious surfaces as the light dimmed but I could perceive more than the naked eye.  I just needed to be extra cautious and listen.  Something was in the air, that sweet and pungent reek of soured meat.  Immediately I felt sick to my stomach, maybe with the low visibility I’ll bypass whatever’s there without knowing it.

At some length I stopped, certain I had heard something.  That whooshing…hiss sound.  A sharp movement, then screaming echoed through the corridor.  With a soft whimper I stepped back, unsure where to go or what was happening.  Eventually the noise died away, with a final ear splinting wail and the hall was silent.  I had nearly forgotten I wasn’t alone.  I wondered if I was now?

I had turned the NV off, aware I needed to conserve the cameras power, but mostly afraid I would see something accompanying me in the dark.  I let out a shallow breath and resumed my course, forward, to whatever awaited.

I never found the fellow in the jacket.  The tunnel came to a dead end with only a high water barricade, which I squeezed through with little effort.  After that short break, my side and shoulder felt somewhat better, but still complained when I strained them too much.  My leg had stiffened somewhat from where Chris had raked me, sloshing around in the sewers had given some infection no doubt.

That horrible sour reek hit me in full force, and I physically winced from the odor.  In the same instant hot steam gushed out from burst pipes in the water systems at my backside, I stepped away receiving an overbearing singe along my upper back.  Damn faulty pipes, old building.  It felt normal to complain about something so trivial.

A few pipes connected overhead, one shot straight forward along the tunnels ceiling.  I followed it, venturing into the dark without the NV due to an apparent light source in close proximity.  As with it, the origin of the foul stench.

I wasn’t surprised by my findings.  I might’ve actually been concerned if I found nothing, and my mind would have fabricated horrible images to pacify itself.  The corridor ended with a large grate, and to my left awaited a door with a glass window.  I peered inside and brought up the camera to film the gore.  I imagine this was about the worse I had found, worse than the tunnel of blood and ruptured innards.

“I thought this sewer couldn’t smell any worse.  Hundred of bodies crammed into a room, thousands of flies.  Is this the Priest’s “way out?’”

What had that lone man in the room been trying to write down in his final words?  It was, “…let there be no dreams.  The only hel—”  Was he trying to say, ‘The only help.’ He could want, to some extent.  Or was he stating, ‘The only hell. I want.’  It could go either way, but I didn’t know his past, his history, what he had been through.  I only knew he had been dying when he wrote his message, and had ceased to hear the Walrider.  Because his therapy wore off.

This couldn’t have been the Priest’s way out.  Or, could it?  He was a crazy fanatic believing in something….obviously evil.

With nothing more to note here, I returned to where I entered from.  Some steps patiently awaited my attention, with a plate labeled Male Ward mounted to the side.  It led up to a spiral stairway twisting into a dry, cool room, or hall.  It had no obvious exit, unless I found one.  The gate was blocked by beds, metal trollies, and what looked like gurneys.

A metal cabinet sat beside a chute in the floor, that looked traversable.  It didn’t appear to be too heavy, it was filled with propane tanks.  I fixed the camera in its hoister and braced myself on the gritty floor, and pushed.  After some effort, and a growl for drive, the heavy cabinet shifted and grated across the sandy floor.  I cleared it from the vent enough that I could scoot through without trouble, the sight of splattered blood did not comfort me, neither did the visible legs of the person in the next room.

Another patient, bundled up to his chair.  Looked as though someone tore a sheet apart and tied him up in it, then tied that to the chair.  He sat there, dazed and unaware of my presence.  Why did for some of these people they insisted on covering their faces with any manner of material?  He had what could have been smocks at some point, cut up and wrapped over his head and jammed into his mouth.  As before, I didn’t remover anything.  There was usually a good reason to bind a man’s mouth in an insane asylum, I just didn’t want to think about why.

A pool of blood had gathered under his seat, but it wasn’t his.  Overhead, in the wooden floor boards was a large crimson shape.  As I watched, the light dimmed startling me, but it was only a surge.  I didn’t need to use my nightvision in a tiny room.  I didn’t want to be in a dark room with a man muzzled.

I pulled the door open slowly and checked out, panning over the visible corridor and walls before I slipped out and shut the door behind me.  Another featureless dim corridor, ruble and debris from boarded up doors lay discarded on the floor, the reek of neglect.  A pallet leaned against the wall, and there was another door directly to my left.  For the moment, all was quiet aside from the drip of blood within the sealed room.

While it seemed calm, I had to take care of something.  Nearly eight hours without a bathroom break, and this place had gone to hell anyway.  I still felt the need to justify pissing on a wall.  Damnit.  There was some privacy in the shadows, I didn’t feel like someone was going to stumble upon me and get ideas.

Really, this place could go fuck itself.

I took care of matters.  End of story.  There was a door not far from where I was, and I think I died a little inside when I opened it.

Blood was on the floor, beneath a broken chair, I turned the NV on the wall and found some inspiring words.

“The harder I try to escape, the further I get into this god awful place.  Like fighting a tar pit.  They’ve been torturing people in the basement, and by method.  Written on the wall – “FINGERS FIRST.  THEN BALLS.  THEN TONGUE.”  Somebody’s managing the torture, instructing them.”

I think this is the epiphany of why I need to keep my mouth shut around the variants.  In fact, I could write a whole book about what not do if you’re trapped in an insane asylum.  For starters – First rule, don’t talk to people, they’ll eat your tongue out of your throat.  Number two, don’t mess with them, they hate that and they’ll make it clear by murdering your ass.  Three, don’t be a woman, or any gender, or dead.  They will do terrible things to your corpse.  Or worse, they won’t kill you.  And four, everyone is your enemy, even if they sound sane, by now they’re not.  They’re in the insane asylum for a reason, and chances are you’ll figure out why in the brief moment before you’re dead, or regretting your remaining sanity.

Game over.

I continued down the hall, certain I heard something rubbing against the door that separated me from the trapped man.  Ignoring it, I took in my surroundings, first noting a path on my left that led up darkened steps.  I passed it to explore what else might be available, batteries I hoped.  The hall led through shadows, towards a light spilling from an open room.  As I neared my skin ran cold, the cacophony of struggle and banging came from the room.  Across the way at the halls end was a door, compromised by boards nailed over its frame.  The door had a meshed window, which revealed nothing but another obscure hall.  I peered around the frame carefully, wary of the noise.  At the rooms far wall stood another large cabinet filled with pipes, braced against the door.  It barely budged as someone from the other side hammered away with their body.  The door splintered and cracked under the force but held.

On the floor lay a clothed patient, scars up his exposed arms and over his face, some fresh and seeping gray ooze.  He was curled tightly near the floors center, quivering.  I don’t know if he blocked the door, but that seemed most likely the case.

I abandoned the room and backtracked through the corridor, returning to the doorway I had skipped, before whoever tore through and began hunting around.  Across from it was the broken gate piled high with tables, a gurney, and beyond this the area I initialed entered through.  Good to know I was getting around.

The gate and door that greeted me at the steps end was locked.  I tried to force the handle but the bolt was fitted tight, I wouldn’t get through unless I could pick a lock.  Should’ve had someone teach me.

Reluctantly I returned downstairs to the room with the door, and the invading guest.  I leaned around the frame, but the onslaught had gone cold.  The man still lay on the floor in shock, completely unresponsive to my entrance.  I walked around quietly, checking the room thoroughly before I dared look at the door.  A camera sat near the furthest corner on a table cart, its lens shattered but thank everything it had batteries.  Two, which was better than the dead one currently in use.  I fumbled to switch them quickly, relieved to find the first good on power.

The door had been silent for some time.  No guarantee whoever was on the other side had departed, or that there was any place to go once the door was open.

I put myself between the cabinet and wall, braced myself with one foot then pushed, until the heavy toolshed had been moved enough that the door would swing open.  I peered through the crack before I opened it wide and stepped through.  I took one last look at the trembling figure on the floor before shutting the door.

The hall to my right ran to a dead end with two locked doors, a few boxes and trash lay discarded along the wall.  I attempted to break the glass with a pole I picked up, but it was that shatter proof stuff that you hate when your life is in peril.  I didn’t want to make a fuss over it either and draw attention to myself, boxed in this way.  Seeking an alternate route would be a better use of my energy, and I could always come back.  Though there didn’t seem to be much on the other side of that dingy glass.

The other end of the hall was nearly identical, a dehydrated mop bucket and its stiff mop leaned against the brick.  I wondered where they mopped in this place, the bare cement?  Another boarded up door awaited but across from it the plate of a vent had been torn off, and a soft coil of rich spoil met my senses.  I leaned over to check before venturing further, it wasn’t far to the other side and a good fourth of the room was visible.  There were beds and curtains.

I crouched down and shuffled through, I lowered the camera when the reek of stale urine and soured meat blasted me in the face.  Where the fuck was I?  This was worse than the prison block, as bad or worse than “Feast of Flies.”

As I stood up I could see why.  My eyes watered, the filth and decay was so strong.  The curtains had been drawn around where each bed was situated, I couldn’t see the flies yet but I could hear the hum of their wings beat as they fought over their victims.  A lone gurney sat near the rooms center, a pile of guts had spilled to the floor beneath, and crusty blood stained the filthy mattress.

I thought I heard someone scream in the distance, but if I listened I could hear weary voices emerge from behind the drapes.  Whispers, barely audible over the thousands of flies present.

“Too alive.  Too alive….”

I moved across the room, trying to avoid the horrendous wall of stale rot.  These people were still alive in here, or somewhere between life and death.  A hellish limbo.

“Can’t sleep.  Wernicke’s waiting for me there.”  Again, the belief that Wernicke was dead somehow, yet still performing his experiments.

Were these people amidst experimentation when the shit storm occurred?  Or was the experiment still going on, now, as I stood here?  Was it still happening?  How long ago since Murkoff’s fall?  Obscure dates, faulty facts, I doubt even the scientist had kept up with it all.

I set my hand on the curtain of one patient, debating on drawing it back to view what was left behind.  It was tempting.  But the humane side of me decided no, I couldn’t bear it.  Instead, I recorded what was available, the disrepair of the room, broken tile, filth stained floors, the hundreds of insects everywhere.

At the back of the room, in a corner was someone that had been dead for a good deal of time.  The body spread on a bed with most of the flesh from the legs and abdomen removed, his head missing, what was left of him, an oozing mess of jello and maggots.  I looked down as my shoes crunched large roaches, eagerly chewing up the dripping puss.  If I wasn’t pale at this point, I had to be ghostly by now.

Beside the corpse was a small table, a folder labeled Reports with a few pages spilling out on the surface and onto the floor.  I picked up one curious to what this was about.

PATIENT STATUS REPORT

By Rick Trager

This patient also, unfortunately, didn’t make it.  I tried my best, but I’m just a doctor, not a miracle-worker.  And I’m pretty new to this whole “doctor” thing, so I’m still working out all the kinks.

Anywhoo—somebody’s gotta cut the fat from this PROJECT WALRIDER disaster.  We’ve been bleeding money ever since this thing went tits up on account of that Billy kid.  But I’ve managed to slim back personnel by more than eighty people.  Which means short term savings in salary and long term savings in pension and health care costs.

And I’ve been figuring out a lot about biology.  I was on the fence about it before, but now I can say with absolute certainty that a person can’t live without his kidneys.  You learn something new everyday.

What the fuck was this?  What sort of PHD graduate didn’t know basic human biology?  You could learn that shit from Discovery channel.

I didn’t like the frivolous undertone of this note.  It was all sorts of demented.

I tossed the page back with those on the floor, and gave the room another once over.  A set of boarded doors sat near the morbid memo, and through the windows I could view a man sitting – was tied – to a chair.  I crossed over to a sink beside a bloodied gurney, a table cart was left near it and ghastly red stains had been cast over the cold gray wall.  I avoided a pile of intestines quivering with pestilence below, I just needed to clean some of the grunge from my hands and get a bit of water to wash out the residue.  My hands shook under the frigid water of the tap, I rubbed them till the gray water had cleared and gazed a moment more as I lost myself to the repetitive action of washing hands.

The whimpers of men dying, unable to die, wrapped around my senses as I stood watching the water dry on my skin.  Smalls cuts had appeared where I had fumbled against sharp metal edges in the dark, little things I missed in my distracted state.  It didn’t bother me, I was accustomed to this rough treatment.  What did bother me was how steady my thoughts had become and how I was still staring at my hands as people around me suffered.  I wanted to help them, I wanted to do something and pull them out of this festering wound in hell, this was the whole reason why I came here in the first place.  But I was now unsure in what way to pursue this goal.  There was no help for these people.  There had never been a way to help them in the first place.

After a short argument with my better judgment, I decided to climb up into the open vent above the blood drenched bed.  

“No more dreams.  No more…..”

Thudding along as quietly as I could, I felt my path rather bother with the camera.  I was in no hurry, there was also the batteries I was desperate to conserve in future.  The thin strands of light spread out in my path and I kicked out the vent, wincing when it clattered against the hard floor below.

I dropped down over a mess of innards, they squished underfoot as I pin wheeled my arms out to regain balance and step off them.  I was in the room with the man, in the chair.  That was about it, aside from some solid steel cabinets streaked with blood, papers scattered over the floor, along with guts and pieces of people….

The man in the chair gave a loud gasp once he detected my presence and began thrashing, I stepped away fearful he’d break his restraints.

“Meat!  Want meat!  Want meat!  Meat!  Meat!”  I took another step back, dubious on my next course of action.  Sudden thuds came from the direction of the room I had just occupied.

Two patients now struggled with the fortified door, crashing into it with their bodies in an effort to tear it down.  They would succeed, and I would be killed.

A way out!  To where?

At the rooms side was a large cabinet filled with heavy tools, locked tight.  But it was shoved against a door.  I launched myself at the box and pushed, shoving with all that was worthwhile in me to get it out of the way so I could flee this room before they smashed through.

The doors crunched, splintered and gave.  Just as I moved the container its last inch, I flung the door open and slammed it shut as I stumbled away.

“We’ll flank that piece of shit!”  “Fuck!  Fuck!”

Damn it all, what was this?  What had I gotten myself into?  I tore through the next room, hall, I’m not sure.  Shelves lined the walls, I tried the first door on my left – jammed tight.  Didn’t bother with it, kept going straight and found another door left ajar.

I barreled into it with my arm, cracking the brittle wood it against the wall so it bounced back.  I saw one of the patients nearly at me as I flung the door in his face.  A hospital bed was stationed near center of the room, I hurried behind it and flipped it over on its side.  I coughed at the sharp pain in my chest, but blocked it as I shoved the flat side up to the door.  It thudded and opened an inch but that was the extent, the bed was pinned against it.

“Go ‘round!”

I flipped another bed onto it, and spun about to a medical cabinet that had fallen across the door.  I wriggled my fingers over the side and pulled it out enough that I could fit my chest between the wall and the obstruction, then shoved the two apart so I could pry the door open just enough to squeeze out. 

“There’s another door!  This way.”  I paused for an instant to make sure the camera strap over my hand was secure, if I needed it I betted I wouldn’t have the chance to fumble with it.

“There he is!”

Fuck me!  Fuck this!  Fuck them!  I twisted around, spying them at a door already tearing at it.  Not that way!  I sprint in the opposite direction scanning the walls with my eyes, my heart racing.  I needed no more incentive, this place was fuckin evil!  Nuke it from orbit!  Something!

The light through this corridor was bad, but not terrible that needed to risk the camera.  The metal bars of a trolley glinted in my path, easily sprint over in my good effort to stay ahead of those psychos.  Two doors came into view, the one ahead was way over there, the one at my immediate left looked more inviting.

I swatted the door open and paused, staring at the bloated and gray body torn open on the autopsy table.  It was a fleeting moment, a reminder of my fate if I was caught.  I swung the door shut at my back and began pushing an equipment cabinet against the door, until I caught sight of the open vent on the far wall.

“Death and taxes!  Death and taxes!”

I didn’t worry over the bloody footprints that led towards the vent, I threw myself up into it and made the hasty trip to the other side.

“Doctor!  Doctor Wernicke!”

I slipped out turning to head right, until the door erupted and a variant crashed out into the opposite wall.  I pivoted and stumbled, falling to my hands and knees before I had clawed up to my feet and renewed my pace.  They were screaming for the doctor, for Walrider, and every manner of insane thing that seemed to generate their personal hell.

The hall ahead was blocked, crammed with metal shelves and broken beds.  In the corner of my eye I noted a cracked doorframe, I skid on the dusty black and white tile as I made the sharp right through what appeared to be an old office.  Glass windows made up the walls, they’d hold off kittens I’m sure.  Some of the windows were broken, but I doubt it’d slow down barefeet.

I sprang over a crushed desk, the wood gave out and I tumbled, tucking in my arms until I flipped over onto my feet and charged away.  A broken bookcase was directly in my path and, to where…I wasn’t certain.  I did this odd maneuver where I shoved my hands through, and pulled my body the rest of the way and kind of somersaulted, reaching my feet and resumed my sprint unbroken.  I heard someone not far behind crash into the bookcase and what remained of its contents plop against the floor.

My path came to a dead end.  A large gap between me and presumed safety, only a sheet of plywood bridged a fourth of it.  The sudden commotion at my back caused me to jerk around as one of the scarred patients tumbled down from climbing the bookshelf, and hurried at me with what looked like a machete.  I bolted, racing to the end of that board and leapt over the black gap. 

And fell.

I choked as I hit the edge and skid backwards, a horrible screech came from the camera still in my hand, as my arm ground over the floor.  I dug my fingertips into the concrete and dragged myself up.

“You slippery little whore.”

I kicked my feet against the rough side until I had my arm braced under me enough to haul my knees over, and scrambled away from the edge.  I collapsed, panting.  Not so much the exertion, but the stress and the fear.  I had barely escaped with my life.  That was too close, there was too many of them too outrun and hide from all at once.

I picked myself up and dusted off my coat, it had a bit of mud still stuck to it from the dampness but it was beginning to dry out and crumble away.  Probably didn’t matter.

It looked like there was a gate here at one point, the metal frame remained - and a floor too.  Where had that gone?  Was the metal grate along the wall, the floor?  This mechanism probably made sense to the staff of the asylum, like the purge chambers.  The gap looked deep, but I wasn’t interested in finding out how deep.

My body still quaked, I had temporarily eluded my pursuers but the silence and sudden calm unnerved me.  Where had they gone?  I was paranoid that I’d turn the next corner and run smack into their midst, I couldn’t waste time here.  I put the camera away fearing the risk of breaking it rather than using it, but if there was an area that I did need it, I reasoned I’d have a chance to reach it before I was located.

I crept to the end of the corridor and heard a racket that chilled me.  A door in my path had looked inviting at first, but the abrupt crash and the shriek of commands came through strong.  I took one step back…

Dead end, move.  RUN! 

I sprang forward skimming the corner as I took the hall.  The barrier shattered away soon after.

“You can’t hide!”

I passed under a section of pipes, through a dark hall and into another segregating of rooms or offices.  I skid into the door blocking my path trying the handle, it turned but the door was a stubborn piece of shit.  There was no visible reason why it wouldn’t open!  I whirled about checking my pursues, nearly upon me.  On my left was another door boarded up tight, but there was a space left open at the top. 

The variant swung at my face with his fist, the instant I ducked down and shot towards the door.  I clambered up the boards that would have prevented my access, and slid across the frame to the other side, throwing myself down into a wild dash.  The room was some sort of class, or instructional area, I didn’t get a good look as I breezed through.  The variants were using their weapons to dismantle the door, the screech of strained wood echoed in my skull as I turned the next corner.  It was impossible to put enough distance between them and I.

A sharp right and I raced full down the dark hall, staggering when I stepped on some books and papers missed in my panic.  I vaulted over a stack of large desks and came upon a door left ajar.  I rammed into it with my shoulder and found it to be another dead end.  Some sort of transfer, receiver station.  A store room for perishable goods and an inactive dumbwaiter.  I bolted out back into the dim hall, to the gate at the very end of my path.

It was locked.

“He’s got nowhere else to go!”

I examined the area carefully forcing my mind not to panic.  The gated door and lock, above there was no place I could climb or squeeze through.  This was what I had feared.

My eyes stung as took I step back and gave the gate another look over, I wiped the moisture away but nothing had changed, there was no way around.  This can’t be it, this can’t be the end.  I won’t accept this!

I spun about and dashed back to the open door and slammed it, just as the variants had caught up.  I grabbed the handle and pressed my shoulder into the brittle wood, they were fighting to turn it from the other side and force their way in.  I couldn’t keep this up for long, though they had a difficult time organizing themselves between forcing the door and bashing it down.  I needed to get away from it and search the room, but there was nothing in the immediate area I could use to jam the lock.  I doubt it would hold them off for very long, but I needed that time.  Just a second, a moment, a breath.  I wasn’t ready to let it end here!

I was budged off the door as one of the madmen slammed into it, I quickly replaced myself and gripped the handle.  My eyes frantically searching the shelves for something solid, even a can of cold gravy I could use to snap the handle off.

“Who’s down there?  You’re not one of them, are you?”  I stared at the machine at the other end of the room, suddenly alive and speaking to me.  “Quick!  Get in the dumbwaiter if you want to live!”  I gawked, stupefied as I actually witnessed the little elevator descend into view.

What was this?  A prayer answered?  My mind playing tricks on me?  Was I already dead?

I shook my head to clear the daze and lunged at the lift.  The door behind me took little abuse before it splint apart, and the variants came pouring in.  I shoved the gate up and crawled inside, just before my leg was grabbed the door snapped down and I held it there just to be certain, until I was raised high out of sight.

“God damnit!”  The patient smashed something against the grate, but I was headed up.  Very little they could do unless they attacked the key panel, but even then they couldn’t reach me.  I let out a shaky breath as I tried to wrestle control over my thudding heart, the vibrations pulsed hard on my sore ribs.

This was it, no more sewers, and I had been heading to the top floor to get my bearings straight.  From there I would be able to get around and figure out exactly where I was, or find some way out.  But I didn’t feel the swell of euphoria I had anticipated, something dark clouded the back of my mind and I let it brew there.  The reality of my situation began to sink in, as the walls of the elevator seemed to tighten a little more around my shoulders.

Who exactly was my mysterious liberator?  A normal person, alive after all the hell that consumed this place?  Seemed unlikely, but he sounded sane enough.  Fourth rule though, he’s insane even if he sounds sane.  Trust no one but the dark.  Good motto.  Kept me alive so far.

The lift traveled up a few more feet before it reached the floor and stopped.  I shifted to view the figure that stood beside me as the gate slid open.

“You made the right choice, here, buddy.”