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cheselswood-archived · 3 years

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Well it took all day but I finally have Ches’s intro (hopefully) finished. As a disclaimer, this is very long (4,000+ words) and that’s... after I cut an entire section to save space. (Her zodiac chart, which... if anyone wants it let me know and I’ll make a page for it or something.). If you don’t want to read all of it, that’s completely okay! I’d rec reading her basics, bio, and personality section and I’m more than happy to answer any/all questions about Ches at any point so honestly please feel free to dm me on Discord anytime.

From the get go I want to put the TWs tags and what sections they affect. Please feel free to skip those sections (or if you don’t want to, I’d be willing to like make google docs without those sections, or erasing certain references upon request).

Throughout: Mental Health (PTSD, BPD, Anxiety Attacks, Non-Specific mentions of self-destructive behavior but NOT self-harm), Death / Murder (of her mother)

Basics: I get into Ches’s religious views a bit and Abortion is mentioned positively (Reason for Ex-Communication), Alcoholism

Biography: Murder/Death (blood mention), brief mention of addiction, and brief mention of Abuse

Clover: Animal Death (not discussed, but it could be implied with context clues)

Family: These are all marked in front of the paragraph they affect (I really wish I could do a click to reveal thing under a read more, but this is the best I can do). Anyway - Death/Murder, Descriptions of Blood and Gore (nothing too graphic but worth a mention anyway), Child Death, Addiction and Relapses (Cocaine, Heroin, Alcohol), Cheating, Suicidal ideation (probably subtle enough it’s possible to not pick up but I’d rather overtag), Eating Disorders, Self-Harm

Basics.

Name: Hailey Cheshire “Ches” Elswood. ( literally this muse only acknowledges her middle name and her preferred name from it. Hailey is a word that does not compute in her vocabulary) Age: 22 Gender and Pronouns: Woman (She/Hers) Sexuality: Demisexual, Bioromantic Birthdate: July 19th, 1998 Birthplace: Paris, France Zodiac: Cancer Height: 5’3” Group: Ex-Communicated Reason for Ex-Communication: I... mean you’ll learn more about Ches as you read but despite the fact she’s religious (raised Catholic, went back after she left the cult - your muses will see her at mass without fail every time) she’s extremely liberal in her religious beliefs. Like “yes gay marriage, yes abortion, I don’t care what you believe you’re so valid - what works for me doesn’t work for everyone and that’s okay” and you get the gist, I think. So like... this kid literally could have speed-ran ex-communication if she hadn’t been trying so hard to actually be good and try to get into it like her father did when she was a member of the church. Although I’m 99% sure the reason she ended up getting ex-communicated was her mouth, probably came out with “well actually Jesus never said-” and pulled out her bible to prove her point, knowing her.

Relationship Status: Single Occupation:

College Student (English major)

YouTuber - two 1 million sub channels: a diy channel with her step-cousin (think Evan and Katelyn but #platonic) and a theme park history channel where she shows off the fact she knows way too much about them (think Defunctland and Poseidon Entertainment)

Education: Graduate of Collège Alpin Beau Soleil (international private boarding school), currently working on an English degree with full plans to eventually earn a doctorate in the field. Country of Citizenship: United States and France [dual citizenship] Languages Spoken: French (first), English, Swiss, Latin, Portuguese, and a little bit of Italian

Illnesses, Disabilities, and Other Health Things to Note:

Borderline personality disorder (BPD)

PTSD

Allergies: Severe Allergy to the Perciformes family of fish (tuna, mackerel, perch, and bass). Shellfish and salmoniformes (Salmon and Trout) are fine, but she won’t try any other kinds of fish just in case.

Recovering Alcoholic (started drinking way too young, has been in recovery since she was 18).

Tattoos: One, Two

Biography.

TWS: Murder/Death, Mental Illness, (brief mention of) Addiction, and (brief mention of) Abuse

One might say that Ches Elswood was born with a golden spoon in her mouth, but the truth of the reality was the spoon was probably made from diamonds. The Elswood name was always one of prestige, a multi-billion luxury goods conglomerate, a famous uncle as an actor, swiss boarding schools attended by royalty - and that was only her father’s side of the family. One would expect Ches to be out of touch with reality if they only looked at the top couple results of her google search. But, if one only looked deeply enough - they’d find the article of her mother’s murder. Julia Elswood murdered while out shopping with her eight year old daughter, a mugging gone wrong. Ches still wakes up every night on the verge of hyperventilation a decade later, desperately trying to clean her hands of her mother’s blood as if the stains the event has had on her will ever come off. Not that she'd ever let her social media presence reveal the harsh reality, a family rife with addiction and mental health issues, the two younger sisters she had to help raise when she was a child herself when her father shut down, an abusive ex-boyfriend - all those cracks in the picture frame hidden by all the pretty little bows and well placed smiles. The only hint something is amiss on her Instagram feed is her service dog, Clover, the golden retriever she’ll openly cite as saving her life while never quite getting into how.

It was a bit of a shock when Edward Elswood and his new wife, Rebekah, joined the church, packed his bags, and moved from the Upper East Side to the middle of nowhere Kentucky. And for a while, Ches tried her best to follow the rules and fit in. But, eventually she slipped, and got herself ex-communicated. And while she should be upset, in all honesty she’s relieved to be out from under the pressures of everything. Maybe the fact her father entirely disowned her should bother her, but right now she’s a bit too focused on moving forward. (At least, that’s what she’ll tell everyone if they ask.).

Clover.

Clover came into Ches’s life at the time they needed each other most. Ches’s PTSD was starting to get worse, to the point she was functioning robotically at best. Stumbling upon an extremely young puppy with no signs of her mother caused something to click in her, an urge to work through her demons to take care of this dog. So she did. She bottle-fed the golden retriever, took her to the vet for repeated checkups to ensure she was developing fine, and eventually when she was old enough and the dog’s temperament became apparent and it was revealed she’d be well suited for the work - she started to work with trainers to train Clover as a service dog at her therapist’s suggestion.

Clover is a very calm dog, she’s dedicated to her work and it’s very common to see her laying by Ches’s feet watching her. She does NOT eat human food very often and mealtimes are routine, however Ches will sneak her some foods that she doesn’t make very often (and in turn Clover isn’t going to misbehave in public over) in her bowl when the dog isn’t looking on holidays. (Like, for example, a piece of turkey on Thanksgiving).

TASKS:

Responds to Ches’s anxiety and tries to prevent an anxiety attack from occurring when they are in public

Wakes Ches from her nightmares

Interrupts flashbacks, panic/anxiety attacks, and night terrors

Interrupts Ches's more self destructive behavior.

Guides Ches to a safe place (if everything else doesn’t ease Ches’s symptoms)

Retrieve items when pointed and the command Récupérer is spoken (mostly trained to do this to retrieve phones during extremely bad episodes where Ches breaks down on the floor and can’t force herself to get up, sometimes Ches uses this skill because of its usefulness too).

Can call Ches's “dad” (see Logan Elswood) with a K9 phone in the worst case situation.

I feel obligated to link a picture of Clover’s fc here too, so, have a dog pic.

Personality.

Social Standing in Town/Reputation: At this point Ches isn’t entirely sure where she stands in town. Now that she was ex-communicated from Pastor North’s church, her own father and step-mother no longer speak to her. For the most part the rest of her family would require a flight to go see, other than when her brother, Emmett, occasionally visits. And the locals don’t trust her either, so for the most part at this point in Holy Cross she feels alone. She missed human connection, feeling like she’s got a solid group of people to rely on, and she’s hopefully at some point she’ll have one in Holy Cross.

MBTI: ENFP Enneagram: 7w8 (The Enthusiast with The Challenger wing) Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Winx: Light Pokémon Type: Ghost

What sets Ghost Types apart is that they have a past, a history that they can’t escape. That doesn’t necessarily mean a traumatic event. While some Ghosts are mournful or caught dwelling on old pains, others appear to be connected to a distant past of revelry. Ghosts are caught in a state of suspended animation. There is a consistency within them, which harkens back to some moment in time that made them who they are now. Some are obsessive about history, or about honoring their culture’s traditions. Others can’t stop reading books on Attachment Theory, and talking about how they absorbed their parents’ epigenetic trauma. They are at once both rooted and detached. Their existence reminds you time is not real.

Unlike some of the other emotionally-distant-seeming types, such as Ice and Psychic, Ghosts are not intentionally putting walls up between themselves and other people. In fact, they can be over-sharers, telling long stories about their pasts, bearing their most secret selves. There is something very vulnerable about them. Still, there is liminal veil between them and everyone else. The curse of Ghost Types is that they feel things very intensely, they hunger and yearn, and they understand the distant, root causes of many modern-day problems. Yet they can’t seem to fully connect to reality or feel anyone else reaching back at them. They make excellent poets, painters, story-tellers, fanfic writers, cultural historians, and museum curators. [Source because this personality system is not my own doing and I got the descriptions from it comes from]

Pokémon Subtype: Electric

Electric Type personalities are explosive, frenetic, and full of energy. They can be short-tempered and erratic, and often follow their own short-lived caprices and whims. They are also a powerful source of light and inspiration, however, and can be admired leaders if they harness their power properly. Electric Types are modern souls, lovers of technology as well as new ideas.

The most famous and beloved Pokemon, Pikachu, exemplifies the Electric Type. Willful yet adorable, he can be mistaken for a selfish baby. However, when your back is against the wall, you want an Electric Type by your side. They will rise to the occasion and unleash their power in your defense. Sometimes they’re baby, sometimes they want power. [Source because this personality system is not my own doing and I got the descriptions from it comes from]

(She’s also a Ravenclaw if anyone cares about Hogwarts Houses)

Talents, Skills, and Hobbies:

Piano

Archery

Baking

Singing (Voice Claim: Katherine McNamara)

Reading

Forgeries

Lockpicking

DIYS (especially involving resin)

Writing (not creatively though, essays, Defunctworld scripts)

Video Creation

Favorites:

Color: Pink (the watermelon paint color)

Food: Cheap Chinese Food (like think that $5 mall garbage)

Animal: Tigers

Drink: Cherry Cola

Flower: Lilies

Book: Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

Holiday: Halloween (costumes) or Christmas (gift giving)

Movie: The Shining

Scent: Vanilla Bean

Place: Her family’s flat in Paris

Quote:

“and though she be but little, she is fierce” - William Shakespeare

Bêtes Noires:

Color: Dijon

Food: Sushi (a lot of it has to do with that tuna allergy though)

Animal: Domestic Cats, she can tolerate them but they’re one of the few animals she wouldn’t seek out.

Drink: Coffee (it’s a key reason why she drinks it when she’s panicking, because who has time to panic when you’re too busy being offended by what you’re drinking? Not Ches.)

Flower: Roses (she loathes them, dislike is an understatement)

Book: The Hunchback of Notre Dame - Victor Hugo

Holiday: Her birthday

Movie: The Notebook

Scent: Roses

Place: Touristy Locations, she hates being around tourists ok

Misc Fun Facts About Ches.

Ches speaks English and French fluently, her mother was born and raised in Paris so she learnt them both at the same time. She’s also spent quite a few summers / winter breaks in Paris with her grandparents, so she’s got a strong love for the city. A love to the point where if you see her call NYC and Paris home interchangeably, that’s why.

If you call her Hailey she will probably pretend you don’t exist, other than to glare at you until you call the correct name. There’s a couple people she’ll let it slide with but she doesn’t acknowledge that name and she doesn’t really use it.

She’s the mom friend if your mom friend also goes “I HAVE THE BEST IDEA” and drags you into trouble themselves. Like yes this situation may be entirely her fault but she’s going to fuss over you afterward.

This muse does what she wants, I just write it down I apologize for her from minute one.

Ches really… doesn’t seriously date too much because of past relationships (the one where her brother cheated with him, and the one referenced in her bio). She likes to flirt (it’s a fun game to her as long as nobody gets too invested), and honestly while she doesn’t really feel attraction unless there’s a romantic attachment in place, she’s actually not opposed to friends with benefits things either. But the second people start getting too serious she’s out the door. She’s very “you gotta leave before you get left” esc so she tends to panic the second she thinks she might be actually start being into someone. (Which is why you’ve gotta get her attached before she realized it >.> -cough friends to lovers cough- usually but I mean, I go off chem anyway so that’s not really.. a huge deal, just a fun fact!)

That being said platonic I love yous are her shit, she loves her friends a LOT, she will remind you she loves you constantly. And she’s really affectionate, she’ll walk right up and press a kiss to her friend’s cheek, she’s down to platonic hand-hold and cuddle, literally as long as everyone’s on the same page and okay with it - she’s very fond of affection and touch on average.

Ches is rarely sleeps, like ever. In fact, while she’ll never admit to it - she’s afraid of sleeping so while insomnia, nightmares, and night terrors are all valid reasons why she’s so used to running on next to no sleep. She’s really afraid of closing her eyes at night, which further feeds into the cycle.

She’s a bit of a closet nerd - if you look under her bed she has a chest of comic books, she plays video games when she has time (and honestly she misses them a bit when she doesn’t). LGR is one of her Youtube channels, and she knows way too much about DOS for someone who was born past it’s prime.

She got her first tattoo using a forged note of parental consent when visiting New Jersey. Edward Elswood was NOT pleased when it finally clicked to him what she’d done.

Family.

Father’s Full Name: Edward Elswood Father’s Occupation: Majority shareholder and CEO of Elswood, a multi-billion luxury goods conglomerate Mother’s Full Name: Julia Andrieux Elswood Mother’s Status: Deceased (murdered - shot to death by a mugger) Step-Mother: Rebekah Carroll Elswood Step-Mother’s Occupation: Fashion Textile Designer Siblings: Julien Andrieux (deceased), Logan Elswood (28), Jamie Elswood (26), Emmett Elswood (24), Cade Carroll (23), Jonah Elswood (22 - twin brother), Flynn Carroll (19), Effie Elswood (18), Ella Elswood (15) Other Relatives: Véronique Andrieux (grandmother), Vincent Andrieux (grandfather), Ben Elswood (uncle, famous actor), Collen Nichols (step-cousin, her partner in crime on The Elswood & Nichols Show), Belle (niece, Logan’s daughter, 3)

Family Dynamics: ...are y’all sure you really want me get into this? Ask and you shall receive.

Edward Elswood: Ches and Edward are complicated to say the least, and that’s only been amplified now that he’s a member of the North Cult and Ches has been ex-communicated. Honestly she hasn’t spoken to him since she’s left the church, and if she misses him, she’s never going to admit to it.

Julia Elswood: [TW: MURDER / DEATH, BLOOD / GORE MENTIONS] Despite the fact her mother has been dead for over a decade, Ches hasn’t been able to escape her (metaphorical) ghost ever since the day Ches stood there, helplessly watching her bleed out. Ches’s life has been a series of what-ifs surrounding the event ever since the day it took place, and she’s got a huge case of survivor's guilt she’s been slowly working on in therapy. But furthermore? Ches has only just now started removing her mother from a pedestal now that she has the woman’s diaries, and she’s slowly but surely, learning all her mother’s secrets from the woman herself.

Rebekah Carroll: Ches honestly has extremely strong feelings about Rebekah, and none of them are good. She hates the woman for trying to replace her mother, how she treated Cade growing up (Rebekah took the Parent Trap as a manual on how to handle children after a divorce, rather than a cautionary tale), and for trying to bond with her younger siblings whenever they arrive back home to the states. Probably the first perk Ches will list if someone asks her about ex-communication is never having to deal with Rebekah again, and she’s not sorry about it.

Julien Andrieux: [TW: CHILD DEATH] There is not a day that goes by that Ches doesn’t think of Julien Andrieux, the older brother she didn’t get nearly enough time with. She still remembers playing with him in the gardens of their update New York vacation home fondly. The day he died, and they broke the news to her, broke her. She still sees him in everything, the patter of rain on the windowpane, the moment the lights turn off in the movie theatre, the laughter hanging in the air. If she could give anything to talk to someone who was gone one last time, she wouldn’t pick Julia, but Julien.

Logan Elswood: [TW: COCAINE ADDICTION (and visual descriptions of it)] The person Ches has saved in her phone as dad, and honestly at this point, he might as well be her father. After her father shut down following their mother’s death, he was the one who stepped up to the plate, started skipping school left and right before he completely dropped out the minute he turned 16 to raise the Elswood children. Sure, he had some outside help from time to time, like their grandparents doing there best to step in all the way from France and Ches trying as hard as she could to fill her mother’s shoes despite the fact that she was only eight and should have never had that responsibility on her shoulders. Logan is the person she calls up the second she needs advice, or she just wants a shoulder to cry on for a bit. And she misses him dearly, to the point if she ever vanishes one day suddenly, it would be smart to assume she just hopped a plane to go back home and see her brothers. But he’s also one of the people who concerns her the most in the world. There was no hiding the white powder clinging to his nose, the constant nose bleeds, the way his hands would shake, growing up. And while he’s gone through rehab programs, and he swears left and right he’s clean now, and has been for years, Ches isn’t there, and she’s scared shitless that she won’t notice the signs this time if he relapses.

Jamie Elswood: [TW: CHEATING] To say Ches and Jamie have a complex relationship would be the understatement of the century. Jamie is an asshole, point blank, and while Jamie is actively trying to repair their relationship, Ches has absolutely no interest in it. How can she forgive her older brother for sleeping with someone she loved, her boyfriend, a person she had been considering marrying someday? She’ll give Jamie credit that he’s smart, after all, he did get into Yale law school and he’s been excelling at it, but that’s the nicest thing she has to say about him.

Cade Carroll: [TW: HEROIN ADDICTION] If there is just one lyric that sums up the dynamic between Ches and Cade, at least according to him, it’d be “I'm just the one that keeps you up at night, you love the most.” Ches always thought that “I'm not givin' up, givin' up, no, not yet; even when I'm down on my last breath, even when they say there's nothin' left” is more of the perfect summary for them though. At first, they weren’t exactly fond of one another - Ches could tell he’d destroy anyone if it meant ensuring his own success from the moment they met, and Cade dismissed her as yet another spoiled rich girl like the ones he attended primary school with. But they had one goal in common, to break up their parents, and in the process they realized the other party had way more redeeming qualities than they initially thought. At this point, Cade is Ches’s brother through and through, and she’d do anything for him and at this point she knows that she’s honestly the only person Cade wouldn’t destroy if she got in his way. She’s the one he calls at his lowest, when he needs a friend, when he has good news or bad news, and Ches is the one who will hop on a plane to pick up his pieces every time he goes through rehab again. Every single time he falls off, she’s right behind him trying to get him right back on the wagon, and despite the fact it’s become apparent pretty much everyone else in their life has given up on him because he doesn’t want to get better, Ches refuses to give up on him. She’ll be there, picking up his pieces when he falls, despite the fact it destroys her every time she has to see him in that state, because she loves him. And isn’t that what family is supposed to do?

Emmett Elswood: [TW: ALCOHOLISM, MENTAL HEALTH, SUCIDIAL THOUGHTS (it’s very subtle but I’d rather over tag)] If there is anyone in the world that Ches thinks actually gets her at her core, despite all the walls and facades she puts up, it’s Emmett. If there’s an easy way to describe them, it’s two sides of the same coin. It’s rare to see one without the other, and he followed her to Holy Cross - admittedly with a vacation home, rather than moving, but he visits often enough it might as well count. Even from a young age, before Ches started noticing the other Elswood children also had mental health issues from their traumas, Emmett was a kindred spirit. The bursts of rage that didn’t make sense in hindsight, the inability to sleep, those dark, pressing thoughts that scared both of them to the point it eventually lead desperate efforts to silence the whispers in their heads. The two have supported one another through every single up and down, to the point where it was debate whether or not Ches would be in his wedding party or his wife’s Camellia’s when the two got married last year. Ches doesn’t know what she’d do without him, and she’s pretty sure Emmett will never let her find out. (These two also have bonded over being the two children Edward cut off now but... I don’t want to get too into that here considering the tws it involves, and the fact I don’t think it’ll come up in character anytime soon.)

Jonah Elswood: Ches’s twin brother, and honestly the calmest person she knows. Unless there is a dog in the room, then he’s the most excitable man in the history of the universe. They were a lot closer when they younger, which isn’t to say that they aren’t close. But with him at Julliard, and her in Holy Cross, they really don’t get to see one another very often. He may be the only person Ches knows with a scrapbook of all the dogs he’s pet that the owners said he could take a pic of them, but she wouldn’t want another twin brother. He truly is the Thing One to her Thing Two, the first person she shares a new music piece with, and the person that no matter how long they’re apart or no matter how busy they get, she knows that no matter what, they will just fall right back where they’d left it.

Flynn Carroll: Honestly, Ches doesn’t have too much to say about Flynn other than the fact she loves him and she doesn’t talk to him very often. He’s back in London with his father now that he’s old enough to make his own choices, attending university and pursuing a professional gaming career while refusing all of Ches’s offers to come guest star on one of her livestreams as a small career booster. Not that she blames him, of course, so she tries to be a supportive older sister from afar - letting him do his own thing as she cheers him on.

Eiffel “Effie” Elswood: [TW: EATING DISORDERS, BRIEF SELF-HARM MENTION] If you asked Ches what her greatest accomplishment is, she'd likely cite her sisters. Effie, in particular, is a source of pride for her, and while Ches would never dream of picking a favorite, there is no denying the fact that Ches and Effie are extremely close. To the point that Ches calls the girl on zoom literally every day to talk to her and ask her all about how Switzerland is and how her senior year is going. It doesn’t matter the time, or what Ches is doing, she will answer her phone if Effie calls. Church service be damned. Effie’s probably the smartest person she knows, overall one of the best people she knows, and she’s pretty sure that Princeton would be willing to agree with her on that considering the girl got into their neuroscience program for next fall. That doesn’t say Efife doesn’t alarm Ches though, even in another country now Ches is extremely aware of the girl’s eating disorder and self-destuctive tendencies. And while she supports Effie in every single way she can, even paying for the girl’s therapy out of her Youtube ad revenue, she wishes the girl was closer so she could keep an eye on her.

Eloise “Ella” Elswood: Ches adores Ella, truly. There's a reason she makes sure she calls her youngest sister before bed, every single night, regardless of what she has to drop in order to do so - and she has without fail from the second boarding schools and distance became a factor in thier lives. But out of the two girls, the sister that makes her question her parenting skills the most is the youngest Elswood child. Sure, Ella isn't a bad child - not by a long shot, but she's seemed to pick up on Ches's impulsive streak and nothing terrifies her more in the universe than the girl falling into any of the trouble she fell into. Every time she does something reckless like walk back to campus alone at night is nearly enough to cause Ches's heart to stop beating in her chest for a few moments before the lectures start. Dramatics aside, however, despite the near daily terror Ella puts into Ches - she wouldn't trade her baby sister for the world. And every time Ella and Effie call her mom when they ask her for advice, well, she can’t imagine a day that will stop tugging on her heartstrings or stop turning her into a puddle.

(I really could get so in depth about all of these kids and their interpersonal relationships and everything but... considering this was me actually trying to keep it short.. if you ever want any additional info on the Elswoods as a whole feel free to dm me but the tl;dr is pretty much “the siblings are very close knit at this point (altho Jamie bashes heads with one or two of them), but they’re scattered all over because of college + boarding schools so Ches stays in touch with them over facetime and stuff at this point.”)

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nami-writes · 3 years

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whump intro!

so my blog isn’t exactly new but considering i’ve been lurking and semi-interacting with the whump community but haven’t actually made an intro, i thought i’d finally do that!

so, the basics: i go by a few names, nami’s the one i’ve chosen to mainly use on here but joy and river work too. any pronouns are fine with me as long as they aren’t it/its, feel free to switch it up if you’d like (and i’m questioning if i’m nb/agender so pls do switch it up!). this is a sideblog so i follow and like from deviantjoy.

and now the good stuff!

i like just about all whump but i get the most whumperflies from begging, forced submission (whether it’s the whumper forcing the whumpee or the whumpee forcing themselves, and that can extend to extremes like noncon), restraints, and just overall helplessness. excessive gore, intimate/creepy whumpers, sickfics, and lady whump aren’t really my thing. my favorite not-whump tropes are found family and enemies to friends (to lovers) and my favorite whumpees are male tough-softie types.

i don’t really write things with ocs so my blog is centered around fangirling and fanfiction, plus a little bit of random life stuff mixed in. you can find my fics and how i tag things in my masterlist and i tag anything that i think might be triggering or otherwise upsetting with “#cw [x]”. my current main fandom and the fandom i’ve written the most for as of rn is avatar the last airbender bc zuko is such a good whumpee and so easy for me to project onto it’s great lmao (i mean literally you can imagine a genderbent zuko and that’d just about be me, i don’t have a scar but i do have a birthmark by my left ear if that counts) and you can find the rest of my fandoms also in my masterlist. i primarily write hurt/comfort, angst, and, obviously, whump, so generally i gotta lotta problems i project onto fictional characters.

some whump blogs i like (which, in this case, means “lurk on and occasionally like a post of or send an ask to”):

@shameless-whumper was the first whump blog i followed and honestly probably the reason why i stayed in the community

@deluxewhump’s cam and zee have such an interesting dynamic i’m strangely here for (and i know i said i don’t like lady whump but i gotta admit amber and belle are a guilty pleasure of mine)

@ashintheairlikesnow’s story for danny was so good i vaguely remember binge-reading it for a few days and now after jake was stabbed i live for jameson too

@friendlylocalwhumper wrote lux so heartbreakingly well that he’s the sole exception to my aversion to nonhuman whumpees

@skunkandgrenade’s whump tips are super helpful and i actually have a few of them reblogged in my drafts for future reference

@whumpwillow’s whump trope lists drew me in but their hazeshift series kept me there after i read all of it that’s been posted so far in like one sitting lmao

and that’s about it! i’m hoping to get a lil more involved in the community and maybe even make a few friends, so pls interact if you’d like to! i’ve got a list of ongoing ask games in my masterlist and asks are always open for anything!

#whump intro #whump introduction #whump blog #whump community #whump blog intro #whump blog introduction #whumpblr #whumblr #misc

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rpbetter · 3 years

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You make some really good posts!! Can I ask something about DNIs? I know it's not directly RP-related, but I have trouble as an RPer with how many DNIs, with urls, there are now. I try not to interact with muns who have them, I block them, because it feels manipulative? But I'm also tempted to block people who follow those muns, because they probably think their DNIs are okay to have, so they're still "bad", just not as bad? Do you think that's overkill, am I shooting myself in the foot?

Oh, thank you! I'm very happy you've enjoyed them!

And, of course, ask anything at all!

I think, ultimately, the answer to whether that's overkill is entirely dependent on what your experience is and if you're happy with it. I don't think it is overkill at all, but if you feel like it is costing you too many mutuals, it might be overkill for you.

I'm a pretty insular RPer, I like a handful of close writing partners that I write a lot of threads with, so, having something like, under ten writing partners is great for me while it's miserable for other muns. I can go wild on blocking and not have it negatively impact my enjoyment, but I know that's not the case for everyone!

And I do, actually, I do go pretty wild with the blocking when it comes to things like DNIs. If it comes off as policing to me, not just something like a difference of opinion or a strong opinion on something, I'm going to block. Otherwise, it's just recognizing that this isn't a mun I'm going to work out with, but no hard feelings. With policing though...I don't want that anywhere near me or my mutuals, so, it's going to be a block.

Because they do tend to be in these odd, like, nested situations lol I totally will spend the effort if their DNI is bad enough to look at the muns they interact with and make sure I don't have future contact with them either. The RPC is such a big place, making it easier to forget URLs than to remember them, but it's also a place where we establish circles of contact, making it easier to run into the same group repeatedly. I feel like it's better for my peace of mind to be a little more certain than not at all that this isn't going to happen as easily.

If that DNI etc. has been so awful, I definitely don't require their mutuals professing the same beliefs as loudly as they are. If you interact with someone, maybe you don't know their pet fish's name or the obscure lore in a headcanon they posted five years ago or the rule they updated without telling anyone, but you do know what is on their pinned post or blog description or rules. At some point, we all visit each other's blogs in dash-view if nothing else when we're getting replies or checking for memes they might have posted, going through their tags, whatever. I do not believe that you're mutuals who reblog from each other often, reply frequently to each other, ship each other's muses and so forth, and all this time, you've somehow failed to notice your bestie mun is telling proshippers to die in their DNI lmao

No, you've seen it. And I find it extremely hard to believe, too, that it's never come up in conversation OOC either.

So, this hypothetical mutual is so oblivious to others, completely agrees with the other one's views while not feeling confident enough to share them publicly, or is scared enough of the other one that they won't disagree...and no matter which/which combination that might be, they're not a mutual I want.

Especially when it comes to a DNI with someone's URL in it. Hard pass on anyone who is okay with that!

If I visited a writing partner's blog, let's say this person is also my closest friend, I value them and the threads I have with them so much, and I saw that in their DNI they had dropped someone's URL? We would have to talk. I'd have to bring it up because it's the right thing to do (and would also be highly out of character for any of my friends, thus very concerning). There would have to be a question posed about what happened here, why did you feel like this was a good choice, and do you think it's increasing or lessening the problem to have that there?

Honestly, sometimes people do get so upset about something that has happened that their worst impulses are let loose freely. When you ask someone you have an established relationship with about that, unless you're being really hateful about it right off, it can help them settle down, take a step back, and see that this is maybe not the right action to take. To me, silence says you're okay with it.

When muns started putting more elaborate DNI's in, that alone rubbed me the wrong way because I genuinely do not think that the majority of that information is at all necessary. It's something I can see and fully understand minors doing, not because they're terrible or anything but because the impulses and rationale are just different. You're very much geared to be as loud as possible about things that are important to you, making them a part of you in a huge way, as a teenager. Shit just is unreasonably intense! But as an adult, I expect that behavior to be different. You don't actually need to say on your RP blog's DNI that "transphobes WILL be blocked!!!"

Well, yes, I should hope so lol we're a community filled with muns who are trans, I'd certainly hope you were not cool with that kind of thing. It's one of those assumptive states, it goes without saying because, in a group of legitimate adults, it literally doesn't have to be said that a trans mun in a group of trans muns in a RPC filled with trans muns would be intolerant of transphobic assholes.

And, no one likes a damn transphobe, it's not like this stunning, fresh information, here. Not making such a statement does not, in fact, act as a welcome.

Saying that, and I do not mean literally just that, it's just an example of the type of things found in a common DNI, is a little immature for me. Some of those things are, in addition to being purely self-validating: playing into the fear created by policing, virtue signaling, policing, or baiting. And all of them are pointless. Telling someone who would already be bigoted toward you and others to not interact if they somehow miraculously ID as whatever label that takes for them to not interact with your posts is waving a metaphoric red flag in front of a bull. Kind of like tagging a post as either "antis don't interact" or "proshippers don't interact." Actual quickest and most assured way to get that interaction!

I totally understand the age thing, it's self-protecting. Most people do respect it, but when they don't, you've clearly stated that this is not for whatever age group. Things pertaining to your writing and/or muse I also understand and think are great for a quick glance before someone even gets to the rules. Having in a DNI something like "muns who are easily triggered by gore" when you write a horror muse, for instance. You're advising them that this isn't a great idea for them, and it shouldn't be expected that you change your muse and topics because they decided to follow anyway.

But it became excessive very quickly, and there is the expectation that blogs have a DNI. The further expectation is that there be a specific list of things found in that DNI, if yours does not include it, you obviously don't have a problem with those things. I really cannot be okay with that, you know?

However, when it wasn't being used as a callout or a way to police, that was something that could just be ignored. Once URLs of other RPers started to appear, it was a whole other problem.

It used to be the pervading rule of the RPC that it is not alright to force other muns to chose between you and another mun that you had an issue with, but now we have DNIs with other muns' URLs in them. Now, it's the opposite take - if you have an issue with a URL being dropped in a DNI, or if you continue to interact with the mun, you're likely to get a callout or be on the receiving end of other bullying.

So, I very much think the self-insulating thing to do is to avoid those mutuals as well as the RPer with the URL-laden DNI. They could just block you, but is someone who was so juvenile as to put another mun's URL in their damn DNI going to be mature enough to do that? Will their friends once they complain about you? For me, it's too high of a risk of being around muns I wish would take a very long break from RP and only come back once they've grown up some.

I would never advise anyone to do something that is erring on the side of getting them into harassment water unnecessarily (as in, not something that pertains to digging in your heels and writing what you want or not tolerating bullying where you see it happening), and I feel like not doing what you are is that. However, I also am a firm believer in agency, even to make mistakes.

So, if you genuinely feel like blocking mutuals of someone with a URL-dropped/callout/other highly offensive and bullying thing in their DNI is costing you so many chances to RP that you're no longer enjoying yourself here? You might want to consider adjusting how widely you are blocking.

If that's the case, try going for mutuals who are what I call Casual Mutuals and leaving them open. Those are mutuals that the mun doesn't write with often or at all, they're technically mutuals because they both follow each other, but that's it. There might be some liking of posts or even comments or non-committal, OOC style memes sent in by Casual Mutuals, but that interaction is sparse and, yep, casual. These mutuals might legitimately be unaware of the mun's hateful, bullying bullshit in the DNI, or they are actually afraid to unfollow/block them at this point, so their option feels like staying around as quietly as possible.

With that last deal...you could even be doing someone a favor, Anon. When I've encountered that situation before, it's come about because the other person's Casual Mutual is painfully anxious, shy, and a previous victim of bullying. They feel isolated, they don't have many or any writing partners, and they really, truly, are terrified to distance themselves in a way that might be noticed. It's a type of toxic interaction that rarely gets mentioned in PSAs, presumably because it is so low on the actual interaction scale.

Giving them someone else in their corner, especially if that other mun is more open about their intolerant stance on bullying, can go a long way toward giving someone else confidence. I've had other people's Casual Mutuals become my Casual Mutuals and wouldn't you know it? After a while, they get braver. They see my friends and mutuals doing our thing without any of the bullying going on, they see us supporting anti-policing and not tolerating bullying, and they get brave enough to unfollow the hateful mun. It feels nice to even inadvertently help someone, and over the years, some of those Casual Mutuals have become great writing partners, too. People I would have missed if I had made the choice to block them by the association of a hateful mun they were trapped in the orbit of.

Just try to exercise caution! You seem like a reasonable person who doesn't mind truly thinking on things or doing the work required to be cautious. Assume the close mutuals are a problem, too, and block away. Build a wall with some razor wire on it with those blocks! Don't assume the low-interaction, very casual mutuals are, though. Check out their blogs for signs of agreement with Hateful Mun, and if they don't have any, give them a shot as far as just leaving them unblocked goes.

I also have to say, here at the end, that it's extremely nice to see that people out there are doing this. Honestly would have thought I'd be the last person to encourage a ton of blocking, but that's the environment of the RPC now, and it's really the only way we can deal with this issue. You can't reason with these people, you can't stop them, you can only stay away from them for your own good and send a message that this isn't benefiting them. Not everyone agrees with them, they're not going to keep having people left open for their attacks or their RP entertainment. And if enough people are just walling them off, that is a message they'll have to receive because RP runs on interaction with others.

They might think they want every "nasty ass" xyz Problematic RPer to block them, not interact, or vanish from their view of the RPC, but I don't think they realize what that really looks like. What it looks like is a huge percentage of the RPC missing, including people they didn't realize were "problematic." We tend to be quieter, wanting to stay in our own lanes and actually enjoy the hobby and each other. That's why they have to resort to shit like making everyone pre-guilty, or setting up traps to catch people out on being "gross."

So, I genuinely do not think they're prepared for the rude awakening of silence that would happen if we all actually vanished, but I am dying to see it lol and do sometimes have to wonder if the complaints about the RPC being dead/dying/empty, not in a fandom but overall, are coming from the purity police some of the time. It's quite active over on the Leave Folks Alone Over Fiction side of life :D

#answered #anonymous #policing #dni lists #blocking #rp advice #rp problems

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aces-to-apples · 4 years

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Written for Day 1: Hurt/Comfort of Codywan Week 2020 @codywanweek

Here on AO3

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Category: M/M Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Alpha-17 & Obi-Wan Kenobi Notable Tags: Blood and Injury, Concussions, Mandalorian Culture, Blunting Teeth

“daze of our lives”

“You’re an idiot,” Cody said bluntly, manhandling Obi-Wan onto the ‘fresher sink like he weighed nothing more than a bunch of Alderaani emerald grapes. A feat made even more impressive by the fact that Obi-Wan was fully kitted out in a standard set of trooper armor and the commander wasn’t even wearing his own blacks.

“Yes, Cody, thank you for reminding me.”

The look he shot Obi-Wan was normally reserved for misbehaving children—or shinies, as the case may be.

Obi-Wan attempted a reassuring smile only for it to turn into a grimace as the movement pulled at his split lip, renewing its sluggish flow of blood once more. For reasons known only to himself, Alpha-17 had focused rather heavily on causing his face as much damage as possible, rather than seeking to neutralize him efficiently. Of course, Alpha-17 was a bit of a bastard with a vicious streak a parsec wide, so perhaps he’d simply nursed a grudge against Obi-Wan all this time.

Two years and change was a long time to hang onto said grudge, and seemed more than a little extreme, but he supposed anything could happen. Whatever the reason, it made pacifying his commander nearly impossible.

Scoffing, Cody wetted a rag and began furiously cleaning Obi-Wan’s face of… well, gore was perhaps an accurate description. His movements weren’t rough, by any means, but they were perfunctory and Obi-Wan didn’t need to be an empath to feel the low-grade burn of his anger in the tight quarters of the refresher. “Complete fripping moron,” he growled, as more and more damage was revealed beneath the blood.

“Cody,” Obi-Wan began, bracing himself as best he could. He knew that tone of voice well. “There’s no need—”

“How does a Jedi,” Cody cut him off, voice dangerously mild, “cock up so badly that he ends up in a punishment spar with the only Alpha who can nominally stand him?”

“Now that’s hardly fair to Alpha’s age-mates,” he protested weakly as Cody shoved his head and began examining his possibly-broken nose. “I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting any others from the Alpha class.”

“Seventeen warned them all away. Calls you a menace.”

Cody’s voice was serious—dark, even—but Obi-Wan snorted. “Of course he did,” he said, fond without worry and accepting the notion without doubt. “I do regret the number of grey hairs myself and Anakin have no doubt given him over the course of our acquaintance.”

“The stress doesn’t even have the decency to slow the bastard down,” Cody muttered darkly in reply. “Let alone kill him.”

There was a worrying shift in his ribs as Obi-Wan wheezed but he ignored it because, damn it, the idea of something so mundane as stress being the thing to kill Alpha-17 was unbearably funny at that precise moment. Cody shifted back on his feet and watched him impassively. It took a moment for him to realize that perhaps what he was feeling was what the troopers referred to as punch-drunk.

The corner of Cody’s mouth tugged up. “Yep,” he drawled, “that’s what happens when you let one of the Alpha class get their hands on you like that.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, frowning. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Dear me. I believe I may have a concussion, Cody.”

The commander did not look impressed by his powers of deduction. “I told you that ten minutes ago, General.” He scowled and rinsed off the cloth in his hands before turning to Obi-Wan’s split and battered knuckles. “I peeled you off the mats and you said you were ‘happy to see my pretty, grumpy face’ and I said ‘you definitely have a concussion if you’re admitting I’m pretty in mixed company.’ And then you tripped over your own boots and tried to blame Anakin for it.”

“Mmm.”

“Still with me, sir?”

Obi-Wan hummed again, feeling more and more like he was floating as the adrenaline filtered out of his system and pain filtered in. “Always, my dearest commander. Always.”

He sighed but said nothing again for a while, tisking over the damage Obi-Wan had managed to do to himself without the aid of Alpha-17. “What even happened to your gloves and gauntlets?” he wondered aloud, and scoffed when Obi-Wan cheerfully admitted that he hadn’t a clue. “Still haven’t told me what you did to deserve a punishment spar from an Alpha. Don’t think I’m going to just let that one go.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Obi-Wan enunciated with care. “I simply don’t wish to tell you because then you’ll be disappointed with me.”

“And that’s a valid reason to piss off your marshal commander instead?”

“Oh, not at all! I’m just far better equipped to deal with you being angry with me than disappointed.” A punch-sober Obi-Wan would likely not have admitted that, but the Obi-Wan of the moment was perhaps not as wise as he. All he wanted was Cody’s continuing single-minded care and to all the Corellian hells with his dignity. “You have a remarkable talent for making me feel utterly worthless when I’ve disappointed you.”

The silence that followed that statement went on long enough that Obi-Wan had nearly forgotten it by the time Cody responded. “I don’t mean to make you feel like that,” he said with a gusty sigh. “That’s not what that look is supposed to mean.”

Of that Obi-Wan had always been certain, but disappointment had always been inextricably linked with feelings of personal failure and worthlessness, ever since he was a child. Coruscanti Jedi initiates were a cutthroat bunch to start with and his age-mates in particular had been even moreso than the average.

“It’s all right,” he said absently, when he realized Cody was waiting for a reply. “It pushes me to do more, do better, always has.”

“That’s not very reassuring, jetii,” Cody grumbled, swatting away the hand that attempted to clap him on the shoulder. “Quite the opposite.”

“Oh, I’m a jetii again?” Obi-Wan attempted to rouse himself from his post-beating lethargy. The return to the uncomplimentary epithet that Alpha-17 had passed on to his commander before their meeting boded ill. It’d taken months for Cody to finally wheedle out of him why he always chuckled at its use and several more for him to cautiously switch to the less aggressive Traat’ad. “You only use that when I’ve done something to deserve, well…”

“A punishment spar from Seventeen?” Cody supplied, deceptively innocent. “I can only assume you have, if you’re letting him turn your face into paste like this.”

“I—”

“When I’m disappointed in you, it’s because I know that you’ve made your decisions based on faulty logic and you’re not dumb enough to buy into faulty logic about anyone but yourself,” he continued, unconcerned with Obi-Wan’s attempt to defend himself. “When Alpha-Seventeen is disappointed in you, it’s because he knows you’re not stupid and thinks you’re acting like it anyway. So, what’d you do this time?”

Obi-Wan sighed and let his head fall back against the mirror. “Have you ever been through a ‘punishment spar,’ as you call them?” he asked, feeling very tired.

“Fortunately, I’ve managed to avoid pissing any of the Alpha class off quite that badly.”

He smiled, winced, and soldiered on, as it were. “It’s based on an old Mandalorian ritual: pelir edee. Went through it when I was on Mandalore as a padawan.” Cody hummed, well-aware of its history as well as his own. “Usually it’s because a clan member has lashed out at another, disproportionately so, or deliberately brought harm to the clan.”

“You take a swing at Seventeen?” the commander said, joking, but also curious. “Because if you did then I take back calling you an idiot and will be much nicer at your funeral.”

“It’s also—” Obi-Wan swallowed “—unofficially, you understand, used when a leader ignores the advice of their clan members and so brings harm to them through incompetence.”

Cody doesn’t respond for another long while.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was.”

“Our intel was faulty—”

“—and if I had listened to your concerns then we wouldn’t be on this planet you all despise so much, collecting shinies to fill the empty spaces where loved ones once stood.” He had nothing to say to that, knowing full well that Obi-Wan had the right of it. “Alpha got his hands on the mission report that brought us here and asked me to explain what happened. I obliged. And he suggested a spar.”

“With Blitz, Colt, and Havoc.”

Obi-Wan inclined his head. “Naturally. He suggested, as well, that we all armor up for it. Apparently he doesn’t approve of my choice to return to wearing Jedi tunics.”

“None of us approve of that,” Cody muttered. He’d finished cleaning and bandaging Obi-Wan’s hands long ago, now just holding them in a gentle grip. “You don’t listen to us about that, either.”

Well and that was fair.

"Ni ceta, Kote," Obi-Wan said, not meeting his eyes. "I should have listened to your council and now your brothers are marching far away because of my…"

Pride, arrogance, conceit.

"… mistake," Cody finished, quiet, gentle. "It was a mistake. One that cost us, but you're not omniscient, and you did the best you could. That's all any of us can do."

"You knew better."

"Then learn from this time and listen to me the next."

Obi-Wan nodded and allowed himself to be tugged out of the 'fresher and stripped of the death-white armor. Each piece of plastoid was tugged out of magnetic alignment by sure hands and piled out of the way, until nothing remained but his blacks. Those hands then pushed and maneuvered until Obi-Wan was lying on his side in the commander's bed, Cody's chest pressed right up against his back.

The two of them rested like that for a long time, settling together until their hearts beat nearly in sync. Then Cody, his arms wrapped firmly around Obi-Wan's body, clasped their hands together.

"What did Seventeen want you to see, Obi-Wan?"

He linked their fingers together more securely before answering.

"As a Jedi, I have a responsibility to all life in the galaxy. As a general, I have a responsibility to the lives under my command." He took a deep breath. "As a partner, I have a responsibility to treat you with honor and respect. When I ignored your council, I failed in all of those responsibilities, and your brothers paid the price. Alpha-Seventeen wanted me to see those failures and understand that I need to trust you, and the rest of our comrades, in order to keep such a tragedy from occurring again."

"… Sounds quite kind for one of Seventeen's punishment spars."

Obi-Wan smiled as best he could. "Well, I'm sure he'd phrase it differently were someone to ask him. Regardless, I should have done better and will endeavor to do so next time."

"Good," Cody murmured into the back of his neck. "I love you, Obi-Wan."

"And I you, Cody."

#*10 mins later* 'permission to speak freely sir' 'granted' 'you look really fripping hot in armor'#star wars #the clone wars #sw fic #by apples #codywanweek 2020 #codywanweek #obi-wan kenobi #commander cody #codywan

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

About Me | FAQ

Please read carefully before following/asking/etc, and let me know if any links don’t work!

Back to Overview

The Basics:

~ Name: Lina

~ Pronouns: she/her

~ Zodiac: Scorpio >:)

FAQ (to save you time asking):

Q: Do you take requests?

A: No. The only exception to this is when I host a drabble game/challenge, in which case I will announce that I am taking requests for said drabbles.

Q: Which groups do you write for?

A: As of now, Stray Kids, The Boyz, Golden Child, Ateez, and TXT. Occasionally I may post something for NCT or Oneus!

Q: Can I write a sequel/prequel for X fic?

A: Chances are, no. If I’m not already planning to write a sequel/prequel, that means I’ve decided I like where the fic starts and ends, and I’d rather not change it. It’s worth it to shoot me a dm about it, but more likely than not, I’ll probably say no. Please don’t be offended or upset - it’s nothing against you, it’s just that I like to fulfill my vision of a story/universe as best as I can, and having someone change that is uncomfortable to me.

Q: As a follow up, can I write something in X universe that you created?

A: Again, chances are my answer will be no for similar reasons. It doesn’t hurt to ask, though.

Q: Do you have a masterlist?

A: Several, actually! I do write for several groups, after all :) I won’t link them all here, but you can find them on my overview post (it’s pinned).

Q: Do you have a WIP list?

A: Yes! My current projects list contains most of my actual works in progress, save for a few that I’m still putting together in my head.

Q: Do you have a posting schedule?

A: Not really. Anytime I finish a draft of a fic, it goes on my finished works list, but there are no concrete post dates for anything other than series that update on a fixed timeline or fics that are for certain events (birthdays, holidays, etc.).

Q: When will X fic be posted?

A: If it’s on the current projects list, there’s no telling. As a side note, please don’t ask about posting a fic if it’s a wip as that will only stress me out. However, if it’s on the finished works list, then it’s up to me! That being said, if you’d like to see a fic sooner rather than later, shoot me an ask/dm and I’ll keep that in mind :)

Q: Is X series on hiatus?

A: If X is Angels and Demons, then yes, at least until further notice. If X is Whispers of Nature or Kingdom, then unofficially yes. For anything else, unless I say otherwise, no.

Q: What time do your fics usually drop?

A: Either 6 am EST or sometime between 9-11 pm EST. Depends on my mood and whether or not it’s a series that runs on a schedule.

Q: How long have you been here?

A: Too long Since August 2017! As I type this, it’s been just over four years.

Q: What groups/artists do you stan?

A: Besides the ones I write for, I also like Monsta X, Seventeen, Eric Nam, and a few others that I listen to on and off (ONF, Lucy, N.Flying, Onewe, etc.)!

Rules/Boundaries:

~ Like I mentioned above, I do not take requests except for drabble games or similar events.

~ Reiterating here, but please don’t ask me about when I’ll post a work in progress. For finished works this is okay, but not a current project.

~ I do NOT write smut or anything non-con/nsfw. Do not ask me to write it.

~ That being said, I do write about some triggering topics (mental health, death, gore, etc.). Most of the time it is not graphic or extremely explicit and I both state and tag triggers in every fic, but keep this in mind.

~ I don’t write Harry Potter aus anymore. Those I have written are still in my masterlists, but don’t request it anymore, please.

~ If requesting for a drabble game, PLEASE make sure to read the official post and the rules before sending an ask.

~ Please do not talk about triggering topics in my asks. My mental health is not always stable and I get triggered as well. If you do send something, I will not post it.

~ By a similar token, be polite in my inbox. That means basic courtesy like please/thank you. Unless we are mutuals/have spoken before, I don’t know you, and I get uncomfortable when people are too casual with me too quickly.

~ Not a rule really, but if you read something of mine and enjoy, please leave a comment and a reblog! This goes for any content you consume, really - content creators love seeing your thoughts/reactions to our work, and reblogs help us gain circulation :)

More Questions?

If you have any questions that weren’t covered here, feel free to shoot me an ask or dm! Thank you for checking out my blog <3

#lina talks #nas #about me #faq #stray kids #ateez #the boyz #golden child

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angelanimedesaray · 4 years

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Animal Instincts (Part 2 of The Investment)

AN: yeeeaaahhhh this became a series. Not a super big ambitious one like Through The Looking Glass, but...there’s a few parts. Not sure if I can call it a mini-series, so right now I’ll just say series. Also this is officially a nitty-gritty series compared to some of my other stuff/ideas. I just feel like Vampire stuff should be like that, Y’know??? Also, yes, I’m a monster, believe me, I know, I was thinking that as I wrote some of these scenes...

AN On Character: Before ANYONE can call me out for this...if Levi seems too emotional...In my little Vampire Lore World, emotions are AMPLIFIED for Vampires. Happiness becomes joy, sadness becomes despair, (emotional) pain becomes agony, grief becomes devastation, etc etc.

Characters: Vampire!Levi, Reader, Hange, Erwin (Mentioned), many unnamed background OCs

Pairing: Still not sure if I can be labeling this Levi x Reader, esssspecially for this chapter...

Warnings: Language, Biting, Blood, Violence, Threats of Violence, Gore, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Heavy Angst, Bad Bad BAD Decisions. *Spoilery Tag* here comes some serious ‘Hurt Them to Protect Them’ Logic

Word Count: 11037

<---Previous Part Next Part--->

*Levi’s POV*

��You’re having far too much fun poking at me, Four-Eyes.”

“You can’t complain, Levi--you consented!”

“I made the mistake of assuming you’d have some form of restraint considering the situation.”

“Oh, come on, Levi, don’t be like that--don’t you find all this exciting?”

“No.”

“Just think of all we’re learning, though! Isn’t it fun?”

“None of this is my idea of fun.”

“That’s just because you’re too busy sulking to appreciate how fascinating this all is.”

“Tch.”

Levi sat next to Hange’s desk in her cluttered office, idly wiping a stray strand of blood from the fresh cut on his arm as she swiftly moved to study her new blood samples under the microscope. The curtains were drawn in consideration for Levi, the light in the room provided by the kerosene lamp on her desk. It was the morning after Levi had fed, and Hange was wanting to see if she could see any differences in his blood after his hunger had been satisfied. Ever since seeing how his blood had been able to bring Y/N back from the brink of death, Hange had been...rather obsessed. It was impressive how she managed to juggle her excited prodding of Eren as well as her smaller-scale experiments on Levi behind closed doors, though Levi was starting to wonder if she was even sleeping between it all.

“It’s amazing, but so unfair! We know your blood is different, that it has these extraordinary properties, and yet, comparing it with some of my own, there’s no visible difference I can see, even after you’ve fed--it appears to be the same as the sample of normal blood!” Hange said, her voice dipping in frustrated disappointment before swinging back upwards in excitement over and over again as she spoke.

Levi wiped the small smear of blood on his fingers away with his handkerchief and started to roll his sleeve back down. “Nothing about you is normal, Hange,” he deadpanned. “Eight seconds.”

“Oh?” Hange asked, perking up from the microscope to glance at where the minor injury had been, not a trace of blood left behind and smooth skin where the cut had been disappearing under his white sleeve. “That’s faster than last time by...five, six seconds? Does this mean that you heal faster the better fed you are?” Hange mused.

“It’s one theory,” Levi murmured, thinking back to when he’d given Y/N his blood. He had just, just fed off of her, yet the wound on his wrist then had taken a minute or more to heal up. Maybe there was some kind of focus or willpower involved, too. Right now, he didn’t need or want the wound to linger, and it didn’t, while then he’d need and wanted it to.

Just another theory to add to Hange’s growing pile.

Hange turned her attention back to the microscope, trying--most likely in vain--to see some kind of difference in his blood in case her first observation was wrong. “Speaking of feeding…”

“No, Hange,” Levi said in a quick, hard tone before she could continue her leading statement.

“Levi-iii, why not?” she whined. His irritation flared--how many times did he have to tell her no?

“I don’t have control when the hunger takes over like that--it’d be too dangerous. There’s no telling what could happen, and I can’t guarantee your safety.”

“It can’t be any different from poking at titans, which, need I remind you, I did with non-intelligent titans before we started the experiments with Eren.”

“This is different,” Levi said coldly. “Besides. It’s not something you want to see. Not really.”

“Except I do.”

Levi didn’t even bother to answer her this time. He’d already told her no, and since no one knew the Underground as well as him and he now had his inhuman speed, it wasn’t like she could follow him down into the Underground to try and spy on him. He had the final say, and he’d already said no.

Hange grumbled nonsense at his silence, Levi’s sensitive hearing not even able to pick up two words that could be strung together. “You’ve been more...short tempered, recently.”

“I wonder why.”

Hange ignored his sarcastic jab and kept talking.

“With all your senses and abilities being amplified, do you think its possible your personality has been, too? Your emotions?” Hange asked, growing curiosity in her voice as the theory formed.

Levi actually paused to consider it. He was annoyed easier recently. Sometimes he found it hard to get a grip on himself with emotions that went to extremes far faster than normal, or he clamped down so harshly on an impulse or emotion that he didn’t feel anything. He constantly felt like he was trying to do a balancing act blindfolded between the two extremes, trying to get back to his normal. Even he was aware that he wasn’t himself recently--besides the obvious. Though he’d written it off as just dealing with everything that had happened. What if this was going to be his normal if he couldn’t find that balance?

“I’m going to take your thoughtful silence as a yes,” Hange said, already reaching over to scribble down notes. “I feel sorry for the cadets.”

Levi scowled. What, did she think he had no self-control? He wasn’t taking all this craziness out on anyone, and he wasn’t about to start now.

“Don’t you have to go poke at Eren instead of me this morning?” he asked, giving Hange a steady look.

“Yes, but when I’m done, I’ll try to snag you for a few more tests I want to try today.”

“Wonderful…” Levi grumbled, already getting to his feet.

“Before you leave, just a few more questions!”

Levi paused, eyebrows raised, waiting for her to speak only a step away from the door.

“How’s the filtering with your hearing coming? Have you tried anything to help with the overpowering smells? Is the sunlight still bothering you the same way? What about those urges when you’re around people?”

Levi turned and leaned his back against the door, expanding his explanation for Hange’s sake so she could take her notes. “Sunlight’s still irritating. Tolerable, but in short bursts, not long periods. The best I can do for scent is to not breathe through my nose when something’s too strong. I’m getting better at focusing on specific sounds to block out the excess, but if there’s something sudden or sharp it all floods in again.” Levi paused, hesitating to go into details about his bloodlust issues. But Hange and Erwin needed to know what his limits were if they were going to keep others safe from him. They needed to be aware what made him more likely to bite someone. He’d already had a few close calls, and they all knew it. “It’s still...hard, when someone’s bleeding near me, even if I’ve fed recently. But being well fed--blood or regular food--helps...but only so much. When I’m around people, if I can block out their pulse by focusing on something else--even if its just different breaths or a person’s voice--I’ll be just fine. If I don’t, or I get...distracted by the sound of someone’s pulse, that desire returns.”

“Do you think it’s getting easier with time?” Hange asked, her voice soft in consideration with the subject Levi was far more sensitive about.

“No. Not yet, anyway.”

“Do you think you need to eat more?”

Levi shook his head. “No. There’s a difference between the desire and the hunger. And usually I take the first chance I have to slip away when I feel that shift.”

“I’ll see if I can come up with some ideas on what might help. There’s still plenty we don’t know, so maybe we just need to spend a bit more time exploring.”

“Another time,” Levi said flatly, straightening up and turning to leave. He paused with his hand hovering over the doorknob, the sound of a new heartbeat from just on the other side of the door and a familiar scent wafting towards him causing him to stiffen before he turned to face Hange with a hiss. “Did you know she was coming?”

While Erwin had agreed to Levi’s request that Y/N be kept away from Levi as much as possible, Hange had openly disagreed with Levi’s tactic and had even tried to talk him out of it once. It was already hard enough to dodge Y/N daily while the persistent woman kept trying to corner him to make him talk to her. If Hange had started actively taking Y/N’s side and trying to get the two to bump into one another, staying away from her was going to become nearly impossible.

Hange held up her hands defensively. “I’m innocent this time, Levi, I swear.”

He didn’t believe her.

Levi’s teeth ground together as he backed away from the door, a knock sounding a few seconds later. Levi jerked his head towards the door to tell Hange to open it herself, his body taunt as he waited for the brief window he would have. Hange sighed dramatically to show her displeasure at the events around her, as always, but Levi simply ignored it, eyes still on the door.

As soon as the door had opened wide enough for Levi to slip through, he bolted, using his new speed to pass by Y/N with little more than a soft gust of air, maybe the briefest glimpse of Levi inside Hange’s office that would have been brief enough to pass off as a hopeful illusion. He didn’t stop until he reached an empty hall far enough away he couldn’t hear her heartbeat anymore. Once there, he leaned against the wall for a brief moment, eyes closed as he pushed any rising thoughts about her as far down as he could and reoriented himself.

He straightened just in time for another scout to round the corner, subconsciously putting on the façade of favoring his left leg as he continued down the hall. They didn’t have an excuse for why an injury that was supposed to sideline him for months would abruptly be so completely healed, so he had to keep moving around like he was out of commission even though he was even stronger physically than he’d been before. Plus, it gave Hange plenty of time to poke and prod while Levi was still only doing the non-physical half of his duties.

...or plenty of time to try and orchestrate forcing Levi into a situation where he had to talk to Y/N. He’d have to be on guard against Hange’s sneakier methods the more desperate she became to make it happen.

*Reader’s POV*

If anyone could rival you in stubbornness, it was Levi. Once that man settled on something, really put his mind to it and committed, nothing was going to change it except some kind of earth-shaking event. This particular quality of his was becoming more and more apparent with every passing day the Captain went so far out of his way to avoid you.

It had already been blatantly obvious the kind of lengths he was willing to go to try and push you out of his life entirely when, during your recovery, he didn’t even sleep in his office while you were recovering. He’d retreated to another side of the castle entirely, and stubbornly stayed there until his door was fixed and lockable again, and you had recovered and been moved back to where you usually slept. Now, you were lucky to catch glimpses of him from a distance. He started supervising training at different times--specifically ones where you were busy elsewhere--and was in and out of the mess hall for his food either long before you arrived or too quickly to give you a chance to corner him, not that the mess hall was the place to be having the kind of conversation the two of you needed. If you tried to find him in his office, he never answered--somehow he always seemed to know that it was you on the other side of the door, even if someone else did the knocking and talking for you. Once, when you had decided to just walk in, you’d even heard the lock click as your hand touched the doorknob. That one had hurt.

Still, you understood what he was doing. From the moment you’d woken up and had that brief exchange with him, Levi’s intentions had been obvious. Afraid that you would get hurt, Levi was trying to put as much distance between the two of you so nothing similar could happen again.

Had you been hurt? Yes. Had he almost killed you? Definitely. Had you been afraid? Hell yes, even if your surprisingly level-headed approach to the situation had suggested differently. But after waking up bed-ridden with a decently lengthy recovery period ahead of you, you’d had plenty of time to really think about what happened and what you understood of it. Almost being killed by someone wasn’t an easy thing to overcome. When you’d first woken up, you’d admittedly still been in a sort of shock about what had happened, the events hadn’t really sunk in yet. But your recovery had given you the time you needed to struggle, shake, cry a little, and work through it all.

What Levi had done, while terrifying and deadly for you, had been unintentional, and fueled by a hunger he wasn’t used to, a hunger that had probably been amplified by his near-death state and that much harder for him to control. He’d lost all sense of himself, you’d seen it in his eyes the brief moment before he’d bitten into your neck. You couldn’t imagine what he’d felt when he did come back to himself. Hange had said that he’d been desperate, that she’d never seen him the way he was while trying to save your life. And now, seeing the lengths he was going to in order to protect you from himself, seeing how afraid he was that he was going to hurt you again...how could you not be willing to forgive him?

If you could just catch him and get the stubborn, stoic man to talk to you already.

You couldn’t let the conversation be postponed any longer. This was something the two of you needed to talk about, so you could fully forgive him, maybe he could start to forgive himself, and both of you could move forward. It would also be helpful for Levi to get assistance with whatever this was he was going through, but right now you were focused on the basics.

And because you still couldn’t catch Levi, even with a heads up from Hange allowing you to briefly glimpse him in the woman’s office, you were pushed to the drastic and admittedly stupid actions.

You had to catch him when he went to the Underground to feed.

Knowing what was happening to him, it wasn’t hard to piece together how he’d been feeding recently when no cases of dead bodies drained of blood popped up within the walls on the surface or among the Scouts. You also knew he wasn’t feeding on any willing participants yet--he was afraid of losing control, and with the three people who were aware of his situation being people he didn’t want to accidentally kill, he wouldn’t be drinking from anyone in the Scouts. Where would he go if he was looking for people who would disappear without causing ripples if he lost control? The Underground, as depressing as the truth of it was.

Except he had started to catch attention. Not directly, obviously, but rumors were starting to bubble, rumors about a shadowy figure that snatched the filth of the Underground into the darkness and left mangled bloodless corpses behind as the only evidence it had ever been there. Only a couple bodies had been found, but if Levi had to feed as frequently as his nightly excursions suggested, there were more.

You’d been keeping an eye out for him nightly, trying to figure out his feeding pattern since you’d been driven to this point, which was how you knew. It was how you were able to figure out the rough window of when he’d need to feed again, how you were able to catch sight of him slipping out of Headquarters when everyone should have been asleep, and how you knew where you needed to go in order to follow him into the depths of the Underground.

Though you weren’t entirely sure if it could necessarily be called following. With his speed, Levi was impossible to keep in sight. You knew which entrance to the Underground he used, and you could rationalize that he would be looking for unsavory elements in the back alleys of the Underground, but that was all you had to go off of. You’d have to hope that you could find Levi down there, in a place he knew far better than you, in the short span of time it took him to find someone, feed, and then return to headquarters. If you missed him completely, you’d be stuck wandering the Underground until morning or later, considering there wouldn’t be any sun to tell you morning had broke.

But this was the only option you had left. It wasn’t your best idea, and you found yourself jumping at shadows as you plunged deeper and deeper below ground, but you had to try.

He wasn’t going to do it, so you had to try.

You had to resist the urge to cover your nose with your hand in a feeble attempt to block out the smell as you started weaving your way through the dark streets of the Underground. You couldn’t imagine how Levi tolerated it even if he had lived down here once, considering his enhanced senses.

Feeling eyes on you, you shook off the idle thoughts, reminding yourself this was the worst place inside the walls to be alone, even with military training, and you clearly stood out down here. You couldn’t afford to get lost in thoughts right now, especially since you knew Levi was prowling through these dark streets somewhere looking for someone to feed on.

Even though you hadn’t thought it could, the further into the winding, dark back streets, the worse the conditions were. Abandoned houses rotted away, and the occasional body was shoved aside off the main path so people could keep walking. Occasionally something would move in the dark, and you could see dim eyes watching you from huddled masses curled up next to walls or trash heaps for some form of shelter. You did your best not to disturb them, stepping carefully and trying to keep pity from rising into your expression. You were here for one person right now, and you were on a time limit. There wasn’t time to spend feeling bad for locals you couldn’t help.

It was while you were stepping around one of these locals that you hadn’t seen curled up at the corner because they’d been so indistinguishable from the trash pile they’d been sleeping in that you momentarily lost sense of your larger surroundings a moment too long. Taking care to step around the corner and not on the person you’d almost tripped over, you initially missed the sight of a group of five men that had almost reached the neck of the alley you were stepping into. Registering movement in your peripherals, your head snapped up to take in the sight of the small group of large men, body tensing at the light you saw spark in their eyes when you saw each other.

Your first thought was not to go down that alley, then it was to not turn your back on them. It was a T intersection, though. You couldn’t turn around because there was too much ground to cover still, and you didn’t really want to make some kind of awkward shimmy down the alley in the same direction they seemed to be heading.

You didn’t get much time to think about it. They were too close for comfort, so you turned and continued down the alley, your steps faster, body tensed and limbs ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. You could feel them behind you, heard the whistles and jeers about a pretty little surfacer wandering into the slums.

This wasn’t going to end well. Especially if you took a wrong turn into a dead end like you were in some kind of cliché horror story.

You turned your head just enough to get a look at them, noting with unease that the fifth seemed to have broken away from the group. No doubt to try and cut you off--you weren’t stupid, and you were in the Scouts, of course you’d be able to figure out that much.

Best not to keep going in a straight line down the alley, then. Maybe, if you were lucky, you could lose them in the winding back alleys. They might have the home field advantage, but at least you wouldn’t make it easy for them if they did manage to corner you between the five of them.

The next time you saw a narrow alley on your right, you took a sudden, sharp turn, breaking into a run as soon as you were out of the immediate sight of the group. You heard them holler behind you just past the halfway point in the alley, the four also breaking into a run a few seconds before you made another right turn, a left, straight, another left, a right…

Maybe you should try to double back and get back to the surface. You’d stumbled into trouble, you were going to have to spend time shaking them, most likely Levi would have fed and would be leaving by the time you managed to go back to searching for him again. It was best to cut your losses and head back above ground, try to corner him again another time, another way. This hadn’t been a smart idea from the beginning, but now it was much, much worse.

You could hear that group still pursuing you, more spread out now as they used their numbers to their advantage, just as you’d expected them to. And it seemed they’d sent the fastest ahead to try and cut you off, because as you turned the corner for another right turn, you could see one of them pop out of an alley a few ahead of you, already heading for you as you bolted into another side alley.

They were getting too close for comfort. And this one was staying on your ass like an abnormal in an open field.

Halfway down an annoyingly long and slightly wider alley, that one man still on your tail, a second appeared at the other end of the alley. He grinned when he saw you running straight for him, ripping one of the boards off the window of the abandoned house in the alley and holding it like a club.

You didn’t slow down, already taking in his form, mind going through the many disarming motions you’d been taught, some by Levi himself after you’d shown some promise in training. The smile diminished when you didn’t falter, but the second man stood his ground, waiting for you to get within reach.

You were waiting for the same moment.

As he pulled back to swing, you shifted to the side, grabbing at his arm with a pull, a twist upwards, a knee into his gut before you came down on his leg, shoving him aside with your upper body to send him staggering into the wall with a pained cry. His board clattered to the ground as the one who had been right behind you suddenly tackled you to the ground, your knees coming up to your chest in the fall so you could push him up and over your head once your back hit the stone. You all got back to your feet at roughly the same time, the two now between you and the mouth of the alley, and you knew there had to be about three somewhere behind you, so you needed to go forward, through these two assholes.

You put your hands up and fell into an at-the-ready stance.

Back to training, then.

You could practically feel Levi’s eyes on you on the training field, one of the only recruits who didn’t say a word of complaint about being taught to handle armed opponents even past basic training, when the Scouts were supposed to be fighting Titans, not humans. You took it seriously, actually put in the effort, actively listened to instructions and critiques, and didn’t utter a word of complaint.

Why the hell would you complain about being taught to protect yourself?

Now it seemed it was a good thing that had been the attitude you’d approached those lessons with, because you were going to need them.

One of them threw themselves at you with a shout and you side-stepped, pushing him past you with the help of his own momentum so you could focus on the guy who was trying to bring a fist down on your head, you leaned back just out of its path, stepped forward with your left, and brought your own fist in for a quick overhand punch with your right that connected with the man’s jaw. The first came in from behind you again, an arm slipping around your neck--you’d thought you had another few seconds before you’d have to face him again, hoping he’d fallen on his face. You leaned forward as much as you could and dropping one shoulder, sending the slim runner over your shoulder with his momentum to grab you from behind, stepping back and to the side with your other foot as he tumbled over you. Your arms came back up just in time to block another punch from the other guy with your arm, your other hand flashing out to nail him in the nose with enough force to hear a satisfying crack before you jumped back.

Another ripping sound similar to when the bigger guy of the two you were facing had ripped off a board came from the end of the alley you had entered behind you, and you turned long enough to see a third guy pulling off a smaller board with a little more effort.

Three on one in a back alley, now. You needed to get out of here, fast, before the rest could catch up.

Not wanting someone behind you again, you shifted, standing at the ready with your back to the wall between the two on the one end and the one on the other, coiled and ready to see who would come at you first. The one with the board charged you, prompting you to turn enough to face him, eyeing the board that was held high and swinging towards you as he came within range.

You caught the board, cutting your thumb open on a jagged edge in the process but keeping your grip firm as the force caused your arms to fold against your chest. With the man now within range, you pulled back just enough to give yourself enough room to kick him in the stomach, giving a push against the board at the same time to make sure he was send backwards. Knowing the other two would be trying to grab you from behind, you turned swiftly, bending your arm and swinging around sharply with your elbow connecting with whichever one had reached you first. You didn’t get the chance to see who it was before a shot suddenly rang out, shocking you enough you hesitated and were grabbed by the arm by the larger of your original two opponents.

Looking towards the other side of the alley you could see the other two members of the group had caught up, with one handing the still-smoking one shot pistol to the other, who was also giving him a second you were sure was already loaded and ready. It was probably safe to assume the one who had fired a shot into the air was the leader, and he was now approaching slowly, the other man hanging back to reload the little pistol.

What the hell kind of a job and black market deal did these guys have to pull off to get their hands on two pistols?

You tried to twist out of the hold on your arm, but even in the dark of the alley you could see the glint of the loaded pistol well enough to tell you it was leveled directly at your head, making you still. Another one of your original three attackers grabbed your other arm, the large man kicking the back of your leg to force you into a kneeling position.

“You’re quite the scrapper, aren’t you? Almost more trouble than you’re worth,” the leader mused, coming to stand directly in front of you. You tensed, pulling against the firm hands that held your arms and shoulders to force you into your kneeling position. As you struggled, the leader brought the barrel of the gun to hover directly and unmistakably in front of your face, causing you to still again. “I don’t like wasting bullets, so if you don’t want to die messy, I suggest you stay still in case I decide to just shoot you.”

“Boss, the whole point of chasing her down was to have a little fun with her!” the one who’d managed to stay on your ass during the chase complained. He sounded winded.

“At first, but after seeing all that? She might be able to overpower us if we keep her alive. You want to risk her breaking free long enough to kill you, idiot?” When no one made another complaint, the leader pressed the barrel of the gun against your forehead. “Such a waste, too. Sorry, Swee--”

Hands wrapped around the leader’s throat and one of his shoulders, so suddenly you weren’t sure you’d really seen it. However, the fact that he was suddenly yanked into the shadows without a warning let you know you had seen them. There was a visceral snapping sound a split second after the man had been grabbed, and before anyone could react, he was spat back out of the shadows as swiftly as they’d claimed him, thrown to the ground within sight of everyone, his neck snapped and body crumpled like a fallen handkerchief.

A feral snarl sounded from the darkness, and chaos erupted all around you.

*Levi’s POV*

Levi’s fingers threaded through the hair of tonight’s prey in a relentless grip, pressing their head down and into the ground while his other hand pulled their shoulder aside, leaving their neck stretched and exposed for him to sink his teeth into with little resistance. They had stopped struggling long ago, the kicks and futile punches and pushed now absent, the trembling beneath him slowing to a complete stop. He was able to drink deeply and undisturbed, hidden in the dark shadows of a dead end alley, the only sounds the occasional soft hum of pleasure and the sound of his teeth sinking deeper into flesh as he drank. He focused on the sounds to drown out the rest of the Underworld, the pulse he'd originally listened to long gone.

He was starting to consciously enjoy it when he fed...and even picking the scum of the Underground to prey on, he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

A loud sharp, familiar sound broke through Levi's filter, causing him to jerk back, head looking up towards the ceiling and tilted in the direction he'd heard the gunshot. A rush of sounds and smells suddenly rushed towards him again now that he'd been abruptly jostled out of his feed, overwhelming him while he wiped some of the blood from his face and tried to sort through the sensory mess once more and find the source of a gunshot, head pounding. The only people who were going to have guns down here were military and a lucky criminal who'd scored rather big--not ODM gear big, but still.

As he was trying to filter out the sound, the faintest whiff of a strong, familiar scent reached him. After being bathed in it the night he'd transformed, he would never mistake that scent for anything else. Y/N's blood. And it had to have been spilled if he was able to smell her through the stench of the Underground.

What the hell was she doing down here?

Focusing on that scent and trying to hear what was near her at the same time, Levi slowly rose to his feet, eyes closed as he focused. He could smell gunpowder in the air as well, could hear a concentration of heartbeats, most pounding from exertion, but one that possessed the familiar scent pounding faster from exertion and fear. Then came the distant voices.

"...don’t want to die messy, I suggest you stay still in case I decide to just shoot you."

Dammit.

Levi was moving before he could finish putting together what was happening, focused on closing the distance between where he'd been and where Y/N was in danger before another gunshot could be fired. The man who’d fired the shot was still talking with someone, making it easier for Levi to narrow down where they were. He stayed in the shadows even with his speed, making sure that he kept the element of surprise so that he could be sure to kill whoever had the gun first, before they had the chance to shoot again.

He could smell her blood, too. Did that mean she’d already been shot? How bad was her wound? If he got too close, could he resist?

He’d worry about that when he got there.

As soon as the scene of five men gathered around Y/N came into view, with one of them pressing the barrel of a pistol against her forehead, Levi’s blood boiled into a blind rage. The shadows around him blurred as he rushed forward, grabbing the man with the gun and pulling him into the shadows. He noticed there was a second man reloading the pistol that must have made the first shot, so he made his kill quick, snapping the man’s neck and pushing the body away without a second thought. The other armed man wildly swung around with the gun when he saw the dead body, a snarl ripping past Levi’s lips as he barreled into the armed man, sending him flying and colliding with the wall of once of the buildings he heard bones snapping as he was sent through the wall. Instincts taking over, including his newly acquired, monstrous ones, Levi went after one of the two men restraining Y/N next, moving too fast for the group of five to have even hope to react in defense.

Pulling the large man into the shadows and away from Y/N, effectively breaking his grip on her, Levi sank his teeth into the man’s neck, blood flowing free and unrestrained as he tore into the man’s throat with the intent to kill. He was able to drink quite a bit in the process, only because he didn’t let go until the man’s pulse started to stutter beneath his lips and he was sure the blood loss alone would kill him.

Looking at the two remaining, Y/N had taken the chance with their stunned state and the fact she only had one person holding onto her now to attack the other man restraining her. She didn’t look hurt in the slightest as she pulled her restrainer towards her and kneed him in the gut, but he could still smell the blood she’d spilled at some point.

At the moment, however, his attention was drawn to the second still standing man who was now trying to attack Y/N from behind while she was busy with her restrainer. Levi rushed the second man as well, not bothering to hide in the shadows now as he ripped into the slender man’s throat just as he’d done to Y/N’s other restrainer, waiting until the pulse stuttered and the blood loss turned fatal before he dropped the body to the ground and turned to face the last man.

Y/N had knocked him to the ground by now, the man staring in horror at Levi. He must have been quite the sight. When he’d fed before this mess, he’d only had blood on his face, neck, and around his collar, since he was gradually improving with how messy he was when he fed. Now, however, after ripping out two throats, the blood stained his front as well. His eyes glowed a vivid crimson and pierced through the dark of the alley, fangs flashing as he licked away a thicker trail of blood while he approached the last man. Levi grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, picking him up with ease and pinning him against the wall.

“Demon--” the man hardly managed to squeak out. Something in Levi burned at the accusation, his grip on the man’s shirt tightening.

No witnesses, no loose ends. Unless he wanted his situation public legend or knowledge, depending on how much people were willing to believe.

Without a word, Levi sank his teeth into the man’s throat, covering the man’s mouth with his hand to muffle the screams even though they didn’t last long. As he drank and the pulse below his lips eventually slowed to a stop, Levi listened and thought about what he would do next.

The only other sounds in the alley came from behind him, from Y/N. She hadn’t moved, was hardly breathing, her heartbeat wild from adrenaline and a sense of fear, and it only seemed to be beating faster as she watched him drain the life from her last attacker.

What the hell had possessed her to make her think that following Levi into the Underground when he came here to feed was a good idea? The Underground was already dangerous, especially at night, especially with something like him lurking in the darkness looking for a meal. Her foolhardy determination to blow past his insistence they not be anywhere near one another was going to get her killed--it nearly had.

Levi felt his blood chill, even if he was still drinking in fresh warm blood. What would happen next? How many more reckless ideas would she get, how much farther was she going to push? Was she really willing to push her luck until she died while he was trying to keep her safe from him? What did he have to do to make her back off, for her to realize how serious this was, that she couldn’t be anywhere near him, that she couldn’t follow after him like this? Did he have to scare her off? At this rate, it was the only thing he could think of that might actually work. But how far was he willing to go to scare her enough to protect her? At the moment, she already had some fear lingering in her. If he didn’t wait too long, he could work with it; there might be a chance that he wouldn’t have to do too much if she was already afraid. He just had to scare her a little one time to make her leave him alone.

He was a little dizzy at the moment, feeling almost drunk on the sheer volume of blood he’d just consumed in such a short span of time. He could muscle through it, though. Ride the high just long enough to do what he had to.

Steeling his resolve, Levi released the now limp body in his arms, rushing Y/N and pinning her against the wall with a hand around her throat. His fangs were bared, eyes still glowing crimson, fresh blood still smeared across his face and front as he snarled. His thumb was placed strategically on her pulse point, able to feel as her heartbeat doubled its speed. He was trying to subtly watch her reaction to know when he’d done enough, his thumb tracing lightly along the vein on her neck, but not biting yet. She was tense, holding her breath, heartbeat racing wildly, and yet...after the first few seconds…

She let out a slow, shaking breath, her heartbeat starting to gradually and slightly calm down.

“You’re just trying to scare me. It’s not going to work, Levi.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he let his fingers tilt her neck to the side, well aware that he was pushing his limits, playing a dangerous game in his attempt to convince her that if she didn’t stay away from him, he’d kill her. His lips brushed against her neck, his fangs feeling like they were aching in desperation to sink into her neck. He could remember what she tasted like--he hadn’t had anything better, since. Only the scum of the Underground that left a chemically, filthy aftertaste in his mouth. But her…

He struggled against those thoughts, willing himself not to give into them. He didn’t want to bite her, not really. He just wanted to scare her.

They were both perfectly still, neither of them even breathing loudly or heavily, just tense, each waiting for the other to make a move. What was she thinking? Was she trying to call his bluff? Did she believe he wouldn’t bite her? Was she thinking of last time she’d bet on his restraint, how it had been thrown back in her face when he almost killed her? Was she trying to figure out how far he’d go to make her stay away? Was she trying to decide if he would really bite her again to make her run?

He was wondering the same thing. He’d pretty much sworn that he wouldn’t bite her again for any reason, and yet, he found himself in a position where a warning bite seemed like an option, just enough to make her realize he was serious, just enough to scare her off...but he didn’t trust his control once he started drinking from her. Especially now, smelling the heady aroma of her blood again, so much better than what he’d been feeding on down here in the Underground for a while now. But did the risk really outweigh the possible result? He had just drained four fairly big men of their blood, maybe he’d had enough it wouldn’t be too hard to stop...maybe. Did he really want to take that risk, to hurt her once again even if it was only a little, for the chance he might finally make her run away from him instead of towards him, so she’d be safe?

He waited a moment too long. Without warning, Y/N suddenly pushed him back, and Levi gave easily against the action, backing away a few steps and looking away. He had hardly put any of his strength into the motion, only meaning to scare, not harm her, wanting her to be able to push him away and bolt when he finally scared her enough to make her run. Clearly, she’d seen right through his actions and to his true intention.

His fangs retracted, the crimson in his eyes fading to a simple red glint, and he was suddenly quite conscious of the fact that he was covered in blood. Knowing it wouldn’t do him much good but wanting to make the attempt anyway, he tried wiping some of the blood from his face, refusing to look at Y/N as he did so.

He could run, but it wouldn’t do him any good. This talk was apparently inevitable, even if he deemed it inconsequential, pointless. She wasn’t going to change his mind. He’d already decided to cut her out--it was better for both of them if he did, rather than drag her down any further into this...mess.

“If you’re thinking of making a run for it, don’t,” she warned, as if she could read him as easily as a book. The fact he chose to look down the dark alley instead of at her probably gave the idle thought he’d had away.

“Why the hell are you down here?” he growled instead of addressing her accusation.

“It’s your fault I am! How else was I supposed to try and catch you to talk with you running from me like a kid instead of a grown ass man--”

“I’m not running from you, I told you to stay away from me from the start. You’re the one who apparently didn’t get the message,” Levi returned in a low tone.

“Oh, I heard you, I just chose to ignore it because you’re being--”

“If you end that sentence with what I think you’re about to--”

“What? What are you going to do, Levi? Just because you don’t like hearing what I have to say, because you know its true?”

Anger was bubbling up inside him with rapidly multiplying strength. He was trying to push it down, to clamp down on it for both their sakes, but it was a struggle he was losing the longer this argument went on. He could tell she was frustrated even though he still hadn’t looked at her, that she was hurt, that it was bubbling up as well and that was why she was so aggressive at the moment, but he didn’t care. Every word she threw at him, no matter how cutting, only stoked that anger right now.

“--damn it, Levi, look at me, will you?”

She flinched back from the anger in his eyes when he finally met her gaze, the red glint in his eyes growing stronger. He took the chance to throw in a few sharp words of his own.

“You’re the one acting worse than a child. At least a child’s ignorant when they stick their hand in the fire. You’re the dumbass that tries to jump feet first to see if its hot no matter how many times you’ve been burned before. A fucking incompetant idiot with a death wish is what you are!”

He’d never called her incompetant or incapable in any way before. Before all this happened, she hadn’t been, he hadn’t been worried about her being able to handle herself, hadn’t thought that it would be a stupid decision or a hasty, rash action that got her killed. Now, he was afraid her pigheadedness was going to lead to her getting killed because of him, directly or, after tonight, indirectly.

That was the other emotion swirling inside him under all the anger. Fear.

She stuck out her chin in defiance, though he saw a flash of pain in her eyes at his words that were spoken with a harsh tone that let her know it wasn’t just his gruff exterior talking. “Trying to shove me out isn’t going to work when I know that’s what you’re doing, Levi.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Levi snapped. “What part of ‘stay away from me or you’ll get hurt again’ did you not understand? What about me almost killing you the other night didn’t get through your head and trigger some common sense? How could you not understand the words I will kill you? I don’t want you anywhere near me, Y/N--”

“I already have been hurt, Levi! I’m already a part of this, and I want to help, what part of that don’t you understand?”

“The part where you suddenly became so intent to fucking die!” he snarled.

Even more infuriatingly, she ignored that exclamation and tried to switch to her version of cold facts. “You’re still not in control,” she said flatly, and Levi turned his back on her, already starting to walk away. She simply followed, still talking. “You’re not! You’re coming down here and ripping people to shreds, past recognition. You still don’t know how to control your bloodlust when you feed! What happens when someone gets wounded on an expedition and they’re bleeding all over the place in front of you? What happens if for some reason you lose control and you bite the wrong person? What are you going to do, Levi? Can you say that you’re going to stop, really? With the bodies you’ve been leaving that’s already getting you a shadowy reputation below and above ground? No!”

“None of this has anything to do with you. It’s not about you, its not effecting you, its not your problem, Y/N. You’re just desperately trying to insert yourself to feel important,” he spat out. He didn’t believe the last part, but he just wanted her to go away, to leave him alone like he’d asked. His hands were clenched into fists to hide the tremble, teeth clenched--

“I’m trying to help you because I want to. Its not that hard to understand, Levi. You need help, like it or not. You can’t keep attracting attention by feeding like this. You need to find someone who’s willing so you don’t have to keep feeding like this and to help you learn control, and you already know I--”

He blocked her out after that. Stopping in the middle of his angry prowl through the dark alleys, body rigid, hands flexing in and out of fists. His mind called back the intoxicating nature of her blood, how easy it had been to lose himself, the blood all over himself and the bed and drained from her body, how close she came to dying before a wild guess and a futile prayer managed to be just enough to bring her back from the brink. She wanted that to happen again? To offer her blood just for him to lose himself and drain her dry? He couldn’t remember how she’d struggled or plead with him because it was a euphoric haze in his mind, but he’d felt his prey down here struggle for their lives, heard them plead before he cut off or muffled their cries. His stomach lurched, threatening to send him forwards as his mind fabricated the vivid image of Y/N struggling in his grasp and gasping for him to stop as he drained her dry, too far gone to even flinch in reaction to her dying moments. He wouldn’t let it happen. He wouldn’t. He refused, and no matter what he had to do, he wasn’t going to let it become reality, he wasn’t going to set up her pointless death by giving in. He had to make her run from him now and never look back, had to make her see that he could and would hurt her--kill her--if she kept going down this path. Now. While he was still so gorged on blood he could stop himself out of raw satisfaction with all he’d drank.

“You’re so desperate for me to feed off of you again,” he said in a steady tone, interrupting whatever she’d been saying after he’d blocked her out. “Fine.”

Once more, Levi pinned her against the wall. Except this time he wasn’t gentle about it, and this time his grip didn’t give her even a hair’s breath of space to move. His hand was firmly on her throat and angling her head upwards, the crimson in his eyes blazing once again with enough infuriated intensity he could see the glint of their glow reflected in her wide eyes.

“Let me remind you what you’re in for.”

Before he could second guess, before doubts could encroach, before he even had the chance to weigh the consequences, Levi bit down on her collar. Hard. She cried out in pain, the sound cut off when he squeezed her throat just enough to make her quiet. The blood didn’t come nearly as easily as it would have if he’d bitten her neck, but that was part of the reason he’d bitten here instead. Still, even after drinking from four people minutes ago, her blood tasted divine compared to the blood he’d been drinking in the Underground, the euphoria from last time starting to return.

Without the need for blood, Levi’s struggle to ignore the euphoria was a little easier, and no matter how much it hurt, Levi focused on every other part of Y/N to try and stave off the haze long enough.

She was trying to push him off--not that it was doing anything to stop him. He could feel her pulse rapidly picking up pace, his grip almost bruising and keeping her firmly pinned against the wall. She kept telling him to stop, to get off, called his name. He heard every word. It cut like shards of glass burrowing into his heart and lungs, blood still flowing past his lips with his teeth sinking relentlessly into her flesh. He didn’t stop.

The commands turned to pleas. The shoves turned to blows that wouldn’t even bruise him. He kept her pinned against the wall, eyes burning but closed, teeth embedded in her collar, his grip tight both to hold her in place but also because of the coiling tension inside him listening to her plead with him to let her go. He still didn’t stop.

Then he tasted it. Felt it in her pulse and her posture, in the hot tears that fell on his face and neck. Heard it in her voice. True fear. Normally, in a twisted way, it made blood taste better, somehow richer. Now, it was almost acidic, leaving a nasty aftertaste as Levi finally, instantly let her go. The abrupt motion made her crumple to the ground with a sob…

But by the time she’d have enough cognitive thought to look up, he would already be gone. As soon as he let her go he walked away. He didn’t have a destination in mind, didn’t pick a direction to head to eventually get back to the surface. He simply walked, wiping the blood from his face again with trembling hands, eyes unseeing the paths he followed even if he was subconsciously using his other senses to guide him away from anyone who was still out in the streets this late at night. It was like he was in a daze, walking without thinking, without seeing, without any sense of direction. The longer he didn’t think, the better, because if he started thinking again, if he thought about it, if he thought, if he…

Where was he even going? Where was he now? He was alone, at least...completely.

His body shuddered, as if in anticipation as the daze started to pass, some part of him getting him to whisper a soft ‘shit’ before the thoughts started to rush towards him. He tried to stave them off a few moments longer.

I had to do it.

I had to.

I had to, for her sake.

For her sake, I...

He kept trying to repeat the thought enough to convince himself. His hand reached out to steady himself against the nearest wall. His shaking hands clenched into fists.

I had to do it, I had to, I had to.

His face was wet. Not just with blood--he could see pinkish drops of hot tears escape from the tip of his nose and the edge of his jaw and chin. His teeth ground painfully together, jaw feeling like it would snap from the pressure as he leaned against the wall his fist had been pressed against, feeling his shoulder start to slowly slide downwards in halting bursts.

I...I had...

It felt like someone had gutted him. Now, as he started to come out of his haze, he felt hollow, as if an amature had gutted him with a dull blade and simply took everything. Everything except a suddenly overwhelming self-hatred that pierced and burned through him from the inside out, causing short gasps to burst past his lips despite the instinctual effort to keep it all in.

I made the wrong choice.

He shouldn’t have done it, but he did. He’d really sunk this low, and he hated himself all the more because of it. He should never have let himself make that choice. He knew it was wrong, that was why it had gutted him even as he’d done it, he knew, but he did it anyway.

Why? Why?

Am I really that desperate?

If I’m really this desperate, was she really wr--

No.

No...no, he’d made his choice. It was done, it was over. He’d knowingly hurt her to make her afraid of him, to make her leave, and she wasn’t ever going to look at him the same way again. Just like he’d wanted so desperately to do in the moment.

The damage was done.

He had to accept it.

He had to live with it now, no matter how much it hurt him.

He’d done it to himself.

He’d done it to them.

And he couldn’t take it back.

It was far too late for that.

*Reader’s POV*

Nights had become a ritual of terror for you.

Every night, without fail, this very thing happened.

The lights were out, like they were supposed to be, so there wasn’t a fire, so occupants could sleep, because it was night. Yet you stood frozen in place in the dark, the heat of the lamp dissipating the longer you stood frozen in place, staring into the darkness around you. It was your room, but it felt like something sinister was watching you in the shadows. And as soon as that thought crossed your mind, they were there. Vivid and crimson, glowing from the shadows, freezing you in place as the demonic eyes pierced fear straight to your core. Your chest tightened, breaths coming in shallow, painful bursts as your gaze locked with them.

You knew, logically, they weren’t there, but that didn’t change the fact that you saw them, didn’t change the sweat that dampened your skin, the chill that wouldn’t leave you, the struggle to breath, the inability to move, the unbridled fear they caused.

Lighting lamps to try and cast out the darkness for a little while was the obvious first choice, but it only made things worse. They couldn’t light every corner, the dim light making the shadows longer and the darkness more prominent where the light couldn’t reach it. Every time you let one of those shadowy corners slip into your peripherals it looked like there was someone right behind you, looming to attack. And the lamps couldn’t stay on all night.

The only thing left was to blow out the lights so a fire couldn’t start, hiding under the covers like some frightened child before the fear could paralyze you. The blanket was pulled over your head, your trembling yet rigidly tense body curled into a fetal position with your eyes squeezed shut. Your mind relentlessly conjured up the image of fangs flashing towards you, those red eyes burning as they grew closer and closer to where you were huddled helplessly under a sheet in complete darkness.

But opening your eyes was worse. Opening your eyes you’d have to face the darkness, and your mind whispered that once you opened them, your nightmares would be real, that you’d see the dark figure with the red eyes and the bloody fangs right in front of you, and as soon as you saw them, they’d attack. With your eyes closed you could feel them there, but they still hadn’t touched you. If you opened your eyes, it was over. You couldn’t stand staring at the open dark of your room, without knowing what was hiding within.

And this wasn’t just your nightly ritual. Even in the day you saw the eyes in your peripherals, in the shadowy places, glimpsed in passing and making you jump at shadows.

And if you did manage to fall asleep at night...the nightmares came. Nightmares where you could feel it all again, could see just those damn crimson eyes, could feel the teeth sinking repeatedly into your flesh until you woke with strangled screams and muffled sobs, futility struggling to recover some sense of composure.

What made it worse was you didn’t have the comfort of being told it was just a dream, just your mind playing tricks on you, that none of it was real.

Your nightmares had already been real once. Who was to say they wouldn’t become real again?

*Levi’s POV*

Headquarters was perfectly quiet. The only sound was the occasional snore, soft, steady heartbeats, and breathing of most people in the building fast asleep. The sounds he made in the kitchen as he went about making a cup of tea seemed loud in comparison, even if he knew for a fact that he was the only one who could hear them.

His insomnia had been relentless for days now, only able to catch snippets of uneasy rest in bursts that didn’t even amount to an hour on their own. It was why he was down here now, water starting to bubble in a kettle, the mixture for a chamomile tea at the ready. If he didn’t find a way to sleep, soon, he’d have to ask Hange to help him--he was that desperate for a solution.

Not that she would want to help him.

Hange opened and shut the door with a resounding slam that made cadets in the hall freeze as she stormed into Levi’s office, glasses propped atop her head to clearly display the unbridled anger in her eyes. ”What the hell did you do?”

He knew why he couldn’t sleep, but he didn’t know what else to do.

“I treated the bite, Levi. I know what happened.”

Once he heard the water bubbling in the kettle, Levi went about slowly pouring the water into his cup, eyes unfocused as his thoughts came back to plague him in the silence of the kitchen.

”She followed me into the Underground, Hange. I just gave her a scare so she would finally stay away like I told her to.”

“Oh, you did more than that.”

“...What are you talking about?”

“Shit,” he cursed, yanking his hand back as he spilled some of the hot water onto his hand, setting the kettle down a little too roughly, trying to clean up the mess and ignore the burning in his hand.

“Have you seen Y/N lately?”

“No, and I don’t expect to, if she finally listened.”

“Keep up that attitude, Levi, and I’ll skewer you; I know you’ll heal. You went too far, Levi.”

He’d been picking up the too-full tea cup, and as Hange’s words from the memory pierced him far deeper with his recently acquired knowledge, his grip tightened, and the cup shattered under his hand. Flesh burning from the hot tea, herbs smearing against the now fresh wounds in his hands, crimson blending into the only temporarily yellowish orange liquid as the blood spilled down his hands, and bits of the cup stuck in his hand, while the rest lay shattered on the floor.

”She forgave you for the first one, and for good reason. But this?”

--Late at night, just beyond the stone of the wall, behind two simple wooden doors, Levi could hear the only other occupant in the castle that was awake right now. Her heartbeat was erratic with unbridled terror and emotional pain. It had been her strangled scream that only Levi could hear that had pierced the quiet of Headquarters, the scream now reduced to muffled, body wracking sobs into a pillow or a blanket.--

Levi kneeled down in front of his mess, still-injured hands reaching out to try to pick up the shattered cup, to gather up the broken pieces, to clean up his mess. He kept cutting his hands again, though. He didn’t know how, he knew how to be careful, knew how to be gentle so he didn’t cut himself, didn’t break anything further. But right now, he kept drawing more blood, kept inflicting fresh wounds on his hands and watching the small ones heal almost too fast to even notice they were there while the garish pieces sticking out of his hand and openly bleeding still showed, glaring at him in the dim lighting.

”Erwin’s already mentioned he might have to dismiss her as unfit for duty. We both know she didn’t have anything else besides the Scouts before, and now...”

The damn cup was broken. He didn’t even know why he was trying to recover each little piece, like he was actually going to try and reassemble it, like he could somehow fix it. The cup was broken and he couldn’t fix it.

It’s broken, and he can’t fix it.

Broken, and he can’t fix it.

Broken, and can’t fix it.

Broken…

Broken...

”Levi, stop, please!”

--He was alone in the hall. His lips were parted, but no sound came out, eyes half lidded, but glinting bright and wet in the moonlight with unrestrained pain, head leaning back against the stone with his chin tilted upwards towards the sky. The sobs continued through the stone behind him, and he let out a slow, shaking breath before he slowly pushed away from the wall--

“Fuck!” Levi suddenly shouted, hand slamming against the mess in front of him, hand slicing open even further as more shards of the cup found its way into his hand or shattered even further from the force of the blow. Blood dripped steadily onto his mess, painting everything that same, garish color, staining everything he touched.

He grabbed at the wrist of his injured hand, only then realizing his hands had been shaking the entire time.

”Levi, please!”

--he ducked his head low and tried not to hear the sobs that were already resounding mercilessly in his head, blending into the darkness with ease while his hand trailed absently along the stone as he walked away.

Next Part--->

Levi Tags: @humanitys-hottestsoldier @clary-quinn @sunny-flo

Investment Series Tags: @regalillegal @cecldcecld

Vampire Levi Tags: @mysteriousmagicx @thesilencebeforeastorm @super-peace-fangirl @psychiccvampire

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oflockhearted · 4 years

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𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜

Basic rules apply: No god modding, no auto hits, no forcing me for replies, no drama, all that stuff.

I roleplay Tifa in all forms (FINAL FANTASY VII ORIGINAL / FINAL FANTASY VII REMAKE / FINAL FANTASY VII: ADVENT CHILDREN / DISSIDIA FINAL FANTASY OPERA OMNIA / NT) all besides KH---because I simply never played KH before. xD I apologize! However, I am not above rping with those in the KH rpc <3

I’m EXTREMELY selective with who I follow. Especially OCs and threads with them. (I’m sorry) I’m quite paranoid of the internet and its mob mentality. Its why my blog is private and why my follower count is extremely low. I intend to keep it that way. ^_^

I dont follow other Tifa blogs first. Its fine if they dont want twin verses or are insecure. I’ve found myself hard blocked a couple of times without even knowing who these people are. And I respect their want to not associate. It is how it is. But if I’m followed first by a fellow Tifa, chances are I’ll follow back my Tifa sisters. C:

Please tag triggering or otherwise NSFW content. And PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE come to me if I fail to tag something you are not particularly fond of / what triggers you.

My Triggers: Callout posts, chain letters (ex; ‘reblog this or you die / somebody gets hurt or earns misfortune’), animal abuse, images of the deceased (REAL dead people trigger me. Skulls, movies, professional photography, or fake dead / gore (zombies) are totally fine!) sexual assault, and p/e//do///phelia.

I do not participate in “follow for follow”, if we are mutuals please understand that I followed you with intention of writing with you. ^^ If we fail to communicate, I will assume you are too busy for more threads / did not read my rules / practice follow for follow. I will do a soft block. Again, my intention is to write with you, and not become a follower number <333

I must say that I am wary following people who do not tag their posts. I make exceptions, but most often I will not follow someone who reblogs consistently without tags. I apologize.

I do not participate in REBLOG KARMA. If I accidentally reblog a meme from you without sending something in, I apologize. I’m 28 and kinda old to keep in memory who participates and who doesn’t. Often times I will check their blog and look through their rules just in case, but I usually forget to do that too because I’m stoopid x”D SO JUST A HEADS UP.

My discord is available for anyone who asks! I LOVE getting chummy with my writing partners. Who doesn’t love to create a ride-or-die friendship with your mutuals. Seriously! It makes me want to write more when we can go off on each other with our ideas and silly crack shenanigans. So if you want a friendship, LETS START ONE, FAM.

There will be NSFW and gore on this blog! When I say NSFW, I seriously mean it. There’s nothing cute or innocent about it. So follow with caution.

I don’t participate in the practice of mains or exclusives since I feel as though it limits potential threading content. This is just my personal view though. I will however interact more with those I converse with ooc. Just because we have dialogue between muns which gets me comfortable in my own skin.

#rules

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ariaadagio · 5 years

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Aria’s Long List of Lucifer & Deckerstar Fic Recs (Part 6)

Hello, all! It seems like it’s about that time again to continue my fic rec series! I haven’t had a ton of time to read since the S4 finale because I had a pretty hellacious summer, after which I’ve been so focused on writing. Hence why this has taken so long.

DISCLAIMER: These recs are organized by author, and the order is not meant to imply an order of preference. All recommendations are completed fics unless otherwise noted. If anyone knows the @ tumblr names for any of the authors I missed tagging, or if I got anything wrong, please let me know. Lastly, this is just a list of things I’ve read that I really enjoyed, and I want to spread the love. That’s it. Period. It’s not politics, and I have no ulterior motives, okay?

NOTE: You can find my previous five rec posts here (part 1), here (part 2), here (part 3), here (part 4), and here (part 5).

And, so, without further ado!

The Devil Goes to Shul by @arlome. Deckerstar. 7k words. Post-S4. In which Lucifer meets a Rabbi. This is such an interesting commentary on the differences between the various Abramahamic religions’ perceptions of the Devil. Rabbi Schulman is a well-drawn, fascinating, fantastic character. A fic that’s great food for thought, with a dash of good humor, and a little smut thrown in for good measure.

Of Honey, Sulphur, & Bone by @aryanightshade. Deckerstar. 35k words. Post-S3. In which the end of 3x24 goes a little differently. Cain captures both Lucifer & Chloe and takes them prisoner, absconding with them to his bunker in the desert. This fic has some graphic blood and gore scenes, so be wary if that’s a trigger for you, but the revelation; Chloe’s dueling panic, doubt, and empathy; the beautiful hurt/comfort; and the emotional pulse of this story makes for a riveting read.

The Ghosts of Picnic Table #29 by @elleflies. Deckerstar. Maze & Chloe. ~50k words when completely posted. Post-S4. This story is technically a WIP because it’s still in the process of being posted, but it’s already completely written, and I know it’s good because I betaed it and got to see how it all ends up, so I feel confident recommending it, now. A year after Lucifer departed, Chloe is still grieving his loss, when an unusual case at a haunted picnic table crops up, and she enlists Maze’s help to investigate. Lots of female bonding and fun in this story. And a ton of emotional intimacy and mutual pining for Deckerstar when Lucifer mysteriously starts showing up in Chloe’s dreams.

Boom by emynii & @obliobla. Lucifer & Dan. 4k words. In which Lucifer & Dan get trapped under an exploded building, and the only thing that’s stopping Dan from being crushed are Lucifer’s fanned out wings. Cue revelation. Cue platonic Douchifer stuff. And have some hurt Lucifer and hurt Dan to top it off. A lovely mix.

Trouble by Design by @hiromystory. Deckerstar. Lucifer & Dan. 76k words. Originally recommended as a WIP, now it’s done! A post-S3 Deckerstar scenario told in novel form. My favorite thing about this story is actually the author’s in-depth exploration of how Dan might react to a Devilish revelation. Hint: not well. Hiro deftly tackles Dan’s feelings about some of the questionable stuff he’s done through the lens of him now knowing the punishment that awaits him, and it’s both captivating and heart wrenching.

Guilt by liannabob. Deckerstar. 22k words. Post-S3. In which Chloe doesn’t take the revelation of Lucifer’s devil-ness all that well, and dire consequences ensue. This fic. Was. So. Angsty. The idea of Lucifer slumming in Hell loops for things he loves about Earth is just ugh. So good. And awful at the same time. But in a good way. And I promise the payoff for this angst is so touching and very worth it.

Patrick the Bartender Is Not Paid Enough for This Shit by liannabob. Patrick. 15k words. Canon-compliant S1 fic. I know, I know. Patrick, you’re saying. Who the hell is Patrick? Remember way back in the S1 pilot, when that bartender pops up from behind the bar, after having given Maze some head, and Maze is all cat-caught-the-canary, “You can go, Patrick.” Yes. That Patrick. This fic basically takes that character who never got a single line and gives him a whole personality and backstory and POV. The premise of this fic is that pretty much every employee at Lux low-key knows (and is fine with the fact) Lucifer is the actual Devil. And it’s. AMAZING. HYSTERICAL. And PERFECT. If you never read another OC fic in your life, at least give this one a shot. You won’t regret it.

Smoke & Mirrors by @theleafpile. Deckerstar. 80k words. An all-human mobster AU. In which Lucifer is the Devil of Los Angeles, and Chloe is still a homicide detective for the LAPD, who gets involved with him against her better judgment. This fic manages to maintain the integrity and essence of the characters we know and love, while simultaneously transporting them to an entirely new premise, and I loved it. I love theleafpile’s lyrical writing style. And I love the little bits of mythology she injects that suggest … this “all human” AU might not be what it seems on the surface. It takes a special kind of writer to pull off this kind of transformative AU, and theleafpile does it aplomb.

The Free Parking Jackpot Rule by lilith_morgana. Deckerstar. 3.8k words. Interstitial, canon-compliant S3 fic. Offers a little bit more context for the unicorn Trixie painted on Lucifer’s cheek in S3 on monopoly night. A concentrated shot of angst, with some lovely characterization to boot.

The Delusional Devil by @maimat2. Deckerstar. 25k words. Late S2 era. A casefic case-study on Chloe’s empathy. Based on the premise that she naturally assumes Lucifer’s wholly human self has some kind of mental trauma or disorder. When Lucifer starts acting more … more, she assumes he’s losing his grip on reality. I loved the touching way this story delved into Chloe & Lucifer’s friendship, and of course I loved all the hints of Lucifer’s otherness, which were tempered by Chloe’s human perceptions.

I Will Fear No Evil by @miahclone. Lucifer & Dan. 18k words. An interstitial S4 piece, arguably canon-compliant until proven otherwise. In which Lucifer & Dan are taken prisoner by some cultists, and Lucifer is subjected to an exorcism that goes horribly wrong. WARNING: if you suffer from emetophobia, this fic will be extremely triggering. I don’t have emetophobia, and I still got a bit queasy. There is also some pretty graphic blood & gore. This is quintessential whump. But this is well worth a read if you’re a sucker for Dan & Lucifer platonic bonding, hurt Lucifer, hurt/comfort in general, endings that make you go, “Whoa! New head canon!” and humor in the face of shit circumstances. Which I very much am. So. There you go :D

De Profundis by @mswyrr. Amenadiel & Lucifer. 3k words. Post-S4. Amenadiel offers Lucifer a solution to the problem of Hell needing to be ruled by an angel. A beautifully written brother-bonding fic, and, honestly, I think it’s the most straightforward way to fix how S4 ended.

Time Heals All Wounds by @notonelineff. Deckerstar. 23k words. Post-S3. Fills in the blanks for how things could have gone after S3. Lucifer is in dire need of medical aid, and Chloe tries to help. Satisfying hurt/comfort, and a lovely resolution.

Ouroboros by @pandainthestars. Deckerstar. 3k words. Events happen slightly differently in 4x09. Chloe & Lucifer chase after Kinley. Lucifer goes full-Devil when they’re in pursuit, not when they’re at Lux, which prompts some very interesting/poignant discussion between Chloe & Lucifer. I loved Chloe’s assertion of the ouroboros metaphor. A quick, angsty read.

A question of faith by @pixelbypixelfanfic. Ella & Lucifer. 2.1k words. A post-reveal fic for Ella, in which Lucifer & Ella discuss her faith. A poignant, thoughtful little piece that I really enjoyed.

Soup Kitchen by @tarysande. Deckerstar. 1k words. Speculative scene-replacement, S4. A heart-wrenching little interstitial scene for 4x03 that looks at how things may have gone if Lucifer hadn’t already been pushed by Father Kinley into doubting Chloe’s intentions.

my definition of holy (changes with each loss) by @thewollfgang. Deckerstar. 3k words. Post-S4. So … this fic doesn’t end happy. At all. Beware if that’s a problem for you. But if you want some delicious, cutting, heart-wrenching angst to roll around in for a while, this fic is your jam. The concept of Chloe praying to Lucifer intermittently, giving him updates, sending him her love, as she lives her life on Earth, and he’s stuck in Hell is just … oh, my god, my heart.

drunk in love by @thewollfgang. Deckerstar. 4k words. Post-S4. This fic isn’t in alphabetical order with wollfy’s other fic on this list, but I’m doing that intentionally, because if you want a happy ending for the previous nuclear angst bomb, I recommend head-canoning this as your ultimate resolution, where Lucifer & Chloe are reunited, and everything is gooey and perfect and the world is puppies and kittens. I live to see tipsy Lucifer & Chloe at Lux through the perspective of their friends/found-family. I hope we get something like this in S4.

The Trouble with Brittanies by @theyahwehdance. 500 words. A hysterical little ficlet in which Lucifer calls Chloe and asks for help with the Brittanies. I saw this ficlet evolve from a live discussion that made me laugh so hard my belly hurt. I mean, it’s an honest misunderstanding ….

#deckerstar #lucifer & dan #lucifer & ella #lucifer fanfiction #fic recs #aria recs #lucifer on netflix

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ilovemygaydad · 5 years

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title: a-haunting we will (absolutely fucking not) go

pairings: lamp and background demus/receit/dukeceit

summary: virgil got a job at a haunted house, and he invites his boyfriends to come check it out.

warnings: sympathetic remus and deceit, sass, a bit of swearing, pretty much panic attacks, haunted houses, hospitals are mentioned two or three times but it’s just the theme of the other part of the house, screaming, caps at the very end for a sentence, being an asshole, arguing, insults, making out is mentioned, a few kisses, contortionism, mention of blood/gore, creepy dolls, like three mild sex jokes, crying, and possibly something else

a/n: i swear this is fluff okay,,,,,,,,, anyway this is from @hiddendreamer67‘s october prompt list, which i will..... hopefully be following for the rest of the month. today’s word is “fear.” well, the first word is fear, and i’m going in order so sh

a/n 2: all fics for this list will be under the tag “#october 2019 fics”

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“I know Virge said it wasn’t that scary, but…” Patton trailed off, wringing his hands in anxiety as the three teenagers stared up at the looming figure of Gloomy Valley Haunted Hause. “I dunno, guys… This seems pretty spooky.”

With a grand flourish, Roman swept his boyfriend’s hands into his own. “Patton, darling, there’s nothing to fear so long as I, the dashing Roman Knight, am here to protect you!”

“Roman--” Logan tried to scold, but he was immediately cut off again by Roman.

“Hush, stardust! We must forge ahead towards victory!” Then, softer, he said, “And Virgil really wanted us to come visit. He says he’s got a pretty sweet costume.”

The argument--if it could even be called such--was won over as soon as Logan gave a fond eye roll. The three boyfriends made their way into the front lobby and were immediately met with the sight of Roman’s twin brother making out with his significant other.

“Ew, Remus, god, you can’t even keep it in your pants for your job?!” Roman screeched and covered his eyes.

There was a soft chuckle and some shuffling as Remus presumably slid off of DC’s lap to fix his scary makeup. “I’m on break, idiot. Plus, none of the managers ever come out to check if Dee’s actually doing the front desk job, so we can do literally whatever we want.”

Roman made a face but uncovered his eyes when he felt Logan’s hand on his shoulder. DC hadn’t even bothered to clean up the black lipstick that had been smudged around their face, but they’d moved to their perch behind the desk. They smiled innocently at Roman and said, “Welcome to Gloomy Valley Haunted House--the best haunted house in all of Blooming Valley. We offer discounts to threesomes; would you like that?”

Patton made a harsh choking sound, and Logan went bright red, but Roman simply glared daggers at his brother’s partner. “Oh, you’re very funny, DC. Have you thought of taking up being a comedian, or are you just going to live your life as a joke?”

“Are you going to become a bird? Your eyeliner is big enough for you to fly away!”

“Take it back, you son of a bi--”

“Oh my god,” Logan cut in with an exasperated sigh. “Will you two children please shut the hell up?”

DC scowled but turned back to the desk computer. “Would you like tickets for Haunted Hospital or Alice in Frightland?”

“Um, whichever one Virgil does,” Roman answered.

“Do I look like your boyfriend’s keeper?” DC snarked with an aggressive eye roll.

“Ugh, fine. Remus, do you know?”

Remus snapped his compact closed and nodded. His makeup, now in its full glory, made him look like a possessed doll. “Yeah. He’s on the Alice side with me.”

“That one, then.”

“Three tickets for the Alice in Frightland tour,” DC said in their fakest customer service voice. “The tour starts in a half-hour. Your total is thirty dollars.”

Logan quirked an eyebrow. “It says that the tickets are only five dollars per person.”

“Yeah, and I charge a one-hundred percent idiot fee. Fork it over, Camazotz.”

“That wasn’t even a clever insult,” Logan muttered as he handed over three fives and a handful of change.

After they received their tickets, the trio sat down on the loveseat pushed into the corner of the room. Logan and Roman sat next to each other, and Patton huddled into Logan’s lap. It didn’t mind Roman that Logan was picked over him because he knew that Patton was looking to distract himself from his worry by making out, and Roman still hadn’t figured out if he even liked making out. Plus, he was completely content to curl into Logan’s side and occasionally receive a peck from either one of his boyfriends.

They were eventually called into one of the starting rooms and got a briefing on what would generally be inside. Roman appreciated that. He’d know what to look out for in case he needed to get ahold of Patton before he got too spooked.

It was pretty mild for quite a few rooms if Roman was being honest. Patton had only really been scared once, and that was because the “White Rabbit” was rather gory and creepy looking. All in all, it wasn’t that bad.

The room that Remus worked in was about five or six rooms in, and it was… something. There were four human-sized dolls around the room, generally sitting in piles of toys or at a little tea table. All of them were completely still except for their eyes, which followed the group around wherever they went. Needless to say, it was unnerving as fuck.

They picked their way through the room slowly, carefully avoiding any misplaced toys that could be a tripping hazard; although, Logan seemed to be the only one truly worried about that. Patton was clinging on to Roman’s shirt for dear life as he glared at the actors. Roman might have found that endearing if he, too, wasn’t scared out of his mind. The room was honest to god terrifying, and Roman had already decided that he wasn’t returning to the haunted house based on the past thirty seconds alone.

But they were so close to the door--it was just a few tantalizing steps away! They were almost there, and then they would be free of this pediophobic nightmare forever.

Roman was just about to reassure his lovely, darling boyfriend that they would be okay when an actor dropped down from a hidden compartment in the ceiling and dangled right in front of them by a rope tied around their foot. The three teenagers screamed and scrabbled to grip each other in terror. The actor’s face looked extremely cracked and broken, and the leg that they weren’t being suspended from dangled lifelessly backward. Black, soulless eyes stared at them.

“Stay here and play with us,” it suddenly cooed, reaching out to grab them.

That kicked them into high gear, and they sprinted through the rest of the haunted house like madmen. They didn’t stop until they were back in the lobby, where they fell in a heap on the floor. Roman was crying, and so was Patton, and Logan seemed to have gone completely nonverbal. A family in the corner of the lobby eyed them suspiciously, but none of them cared. They were terrified. Rightfully so, Roman might add.

After a few minutes, they had all calmed down enough to move to some chairs to wait for Virgil. They were all a bit disappointed that they’d missed him in the haunted house, but the sadness was far outweighed by happiness to be out of there.

“Hey, guys!” Virgil called from behind them, and they turned to find the actor who had scared them. They stared in awe/horror for a few moments before Virgil said, “Guys?”

“Dude, what the fuck,” Roman finally exhaled.

“What? I work at a haunted house, and I’m a gymnast. What did you expect?”

It took a few tries, but Logan managed to sputter out, “You said that this h-haunted house w-was q-q-quote-unquote ‘lame.’”

“Yeah, and it is.” Virgil rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “I mean, our side is way better than the hospital--that one fucking sucks--but… it’s nothing special.”

“That is such bullshit,” Patton muttered. “I’m never taking your word for what is or isn’t scary ever again.”

“Aw, Patty, baby. Won’t you give me a kiss?” Virgil teased as he twisted himself into a bridge and scuttled towards his boyfriends.

DC’s shouts of “Will you four please get the fuck out” were barely heard over Roman screaming, “BEGONE, FOUL DEMON!”

#sanders sides fic #lamp #ts deceit #ts remus #sympathetic deceit #m writes things #m writes lamp #m writes demus #demus #dukeceit #receit #still don't know if we've decided on one name or not so who gives a fuck i guess lmao #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #october 2019 fics

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witharsenicsauce · 4 years

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Chosen Stories From the War #19: V5R93

(Content Warning: This chapter contains brief descriptions of gun violence and gore)

The quiet of the forest was broken by hurried footsteps, and the frantic crunch of leaves and twigs. One figure darted through the brush, alone, naked and afraid. Silence followed them, followed by several more that tore through the brush and vegetation with the heavy clumping of their boots.

A flock of birds burst from the treetops, scattering in the commotion. The figures did not stop, and the bare one, tall and lanky, panted as they leapt a log and nearly tripped, glancing over their shoulder as they did.

*”V5R93!”* The troops called out in that distorted, mechanical voice. *”Stop!”*

V5R93 straightened up, squared his shoulders, and took off running as fast as his long legs would carry him, all the while chastising himself. Berating himself. He had become sloppy.

He slid to a stop at the foot of a towering gray cliff extending on either side. It took only a moment for him to survey the area and realize there was no way around this thing, only up. As V5R93 dove for the cliff, intending to begin his climb, he felt the sharp pinch of the bullets of a gun striking him in the back.

At first, he felt nothing, his limbs simply stopped working as he lost all control of his body and fell to the ground. Then the pain began to erupt like blossoms from the wounds in his chest and his back, and the two guards approached him, their guns still drawn. He gazed up at them, black eyes pleading for some kind of mercy.

*”Damned Sectoids”* They said, cocked their guns, and fired again.

Kon-Mai smiled as she looked over the clothes she had dressed her brothers in that day. Clothes she had made herself; good enough to rival any ADVENT clothing store, that was sure. They had to make a good impression, and she was certain they would.

Her own outfit was one that distinctly outlined her feminine features, while still maintaining her authoritative (and terrifying) air. Her waist-high pants were made out of a strong, denim mix of deep magenta cloth and made it so she could bend her knees easily, lest she need to pick up her sword and fight. Her shirt, while a turtleneck, hugged her figure, the part of her Abyzou had always told her to be proud of. And right now, she has to admit, she was proud, although no thanks to her ‘mother’. With her hair braided into several cornrows down her neck and a bit of purple lip tint, she felt very beautiful.

The Avenger had landed just outside of Kanab, Utah. Along the dusty ground, almost untouched by time, bones and tracks of ancient creatures lay scattered like a circle of protection. Tygan had shown her pictures of these beasts, and they rivaled some of the creatures the Elders possessed. These “Dinosaurs” were great scaled monsters, larger than the Avenger itself. Some swam in the water, devouring anything in their path, some ruled the land and reigned terror on those who crossed them. And some, though large, were peaceful, even cute. She liked those beasts.

From the distance, she could see the groups of soldiers beginning to arrive. Some had vehicles with them, but most were traveling on foot, carrying only what they had on their backs. Most were human, but from the sunlight across the sand, she could see a familiar face.

Kon-Mai’s eyes widened upon recognizing him. “Savitr?”

“Hm?” Gur-Rai looked up from the stick he was using to draw in the sand. His outfit was one she had taken care to make much more durable, and she had good reason: he had already gotten it dirty. The polo shirt was slightly big around his scrawny middle, but his leather pants hugged his bony hips perfectly and accented what little features he did have.The scarf he wore around his head to cover his baldness was also made of very durable Polyester. Kon-Mai prided herself on this endeavor.

“That Skirmisher.” She nodded towards the group of them. “I know him.”

“Which one?” Gur-Rai asked. “He looks like every other bitch.”

“We cannot all be blue, Brother.” Dhar-Mon sighed, once again smoothing down the jacket Kon-Mai made for him. It was light pink, matching the color of his eyes, and had some synthetic fur around the collar, making it look a bit like a Skirmishers cloak. The design on the back had taken hours to embroider, but the intricate wheel symbol had come out stunningly, and made it so Dhar-Mon adored that coat most of all. Of course, it was also made for cold weather, so the poor man was sweating in it out here, but he refused to take it off, citing the fact that he wanted to show off his sister’s hard work.

Gur-Rai squinted against the sun, actually trying to get a look at the man. He didn’t need to, however, as when Savitr saw Kon-Mai as well, he waved to her.

She raised a hand in return. “That one.”

“Oh…” Gur-Rai bared his teeth a bit. “You let me know if he gets too close.”

“If he does, I can handle myself.” Kon-Mai insisted with a scoff.

“Yeah, I said the same thing once…” Gur-Rai seemed to freeze, falling very quiet, and Dhar-Mon put a hand on his brother’s back.

“I am sure this man means our sister no harm.” He said. “And in any case, it appears he will be joining us on the Avenger. He will be our teammate.”

As the group began to congregate outside the doors, the Chosen heard footsteps behind them, and turned to allow Senuna herself to pass by. She beamed like the sun, stepping off the dock to greet the oncoming soldiers on ground level.

“Welcome, soldiers of XCOM.” She clapped, and the others followed her in a cheer that echoed through the mountains. “I see many familiar faces in the crowd, as well as many new ones! Some of you have been on board the Avenger, seen her in her glory, but for many of you this will be your first time seeing the real war.” Her smile faded. “And I warn you, this task shall not be easy. We will ask much of you here, and expect you to perform accordingly. We cannot afford to falter, not now.” Her smile returned. “But to those of you who take on this challenge, you will receive the greatest of all rewards: your home, safely returned to you.”

Another cheer went up, and Kon-Mai met Savitr’s golden eyes. He smiled slightly when he saw her, and she nodded in return.

“As you can see, the war is going well!” Senuna giggled. “I’m sure you didn’t miss the three blue giants standing behind me, some of you may even recognize them!” She gestured to the three Chosen. “These three are not here as our prisoners, but as our friends. For you see, soldiers, like the Skirmishers you fight beside, the Chosen have also cast off the yoke of the Elders, and now fight for freedom, justice, and humanity!”

Gur-Rai let out a whoop, which stirred the crowd into another cheer. At this point, the human soldiers seemed to be over the shock of seeing the Chosen. Those who were not looked at them in awe, like the humans in the city centers had…

Kon-Mai straightened her back and clasped her hands, trying to look as majestic as she could. Her eyes danced to Savitr once again, and she saw he had not looked away.

“With this incredible advantage, I’d hasten to say that by the end of this year, if not the next, this war will be OVER!” Senuna raised her arms. “The Elders will fall to us! We will regain our home!”

Home...Kon-Mai’s mind lingered on that word.

After the speech came the extremely tedious task of checking everyone in, unloading cargo, reloading cargo, discharging soldiers that were getting off here, etc etc. And of course, the Chosen had been voluntold to help with that.

Kon-Mai was at the check in station, assigning each soldier their rank and place on the Avenger and handing them little makeshift name tags as she checked their names off of colorful boxes on a piece of paper. Gur-Rai and Dhar-Mon were helping the burlier soldiers load the resupply onto the Avenger’s cargo deck, Dhar-Mon having taken off his jacket so as to not tear the fabric.

In the hullabaloo, Kon-Mai nearly missed him, but as a shadow fell over her, she looked up to those familiar eyes.

“Savitr Vallinor.” She said, smiling almost against her will.

“Sergeant Mordenna.” He bowed. “It will be an honor to serve under you.”

“Under me?” She chuckled, writing down his name.

“I mean...if we do get assigned to any missions together. Hypothetically, it will be an honor.” Savitr’s peachy skin turned orange as he blushed.

She chuckled and handed him his tag. “Go inside, Vallinor.”

“Yes, Mordenna.” He bowed deeply to her and passed the table, towards the Avenger and where his sisters waited for him. Kon-Mai followed him with her eyes for a moment, until she heard a snicker beside her.

She looked at where Princess sat beside her, the purple-haired girl giggling like a child. “What is the matter with you?”

“You were getting flirted with~” Princess cooed.

Kon-Mai scoffed. “Can I not acknowledge another warrior’s presence?”

“You couldn’t tell? Damn you’re clueless.” Princess scoffed. “He’s got eyes for you.”

“You are simply imagining things.” Kon-Mai shook her head. Still, the words lingered on her mind. WAS he interested in her romantically? What did it mean if he was?

She looked back at Savitr. This time, his attention was turned to his sister Nitocris, who seemed to be looking around in clueless excitement at the sight of the Avenger.

They were alike, she acknowledged. He cared for his sisters like she did her brothers. But she had never seen him in the field besides the brief, very boring patrol they’d been on together. She did not know him. How could she love someone she did not know?

Kon-Mai turned back to her task at hand. She decided to shelve the thought until further notice.

Gur-Rai straightened up, stretching his back, which was growing sore from the constant heavy lifting. He looked around at the people working around him, his brother still loading cargo the size of trucks like it was literally nothing. The Avenger would be well stocked after this, with soldiers and supplies.

He put his hands on his hips and kicked the dirt, looking to where the medical tent was. As one of the soldiers exited and another entered, Gur-Rai could see Malinalli inside the tent, giving physicals to oncoming soldiers and checking off those who were going on shore leave. She stopped for a moment, her pen hovering above her clipboard, and then began writing again, slowly.

Gur-Rai furrowed his brow, a smirk growing on his lips. He dusted off his hands and traipsed over to her, pushing aside the tent flap and poking his head in. “Hello, Molly.”

“Darkstrider, I’m with a patient.” Malinalli hissed pointing to a Skirmisher woman who was sitting on the table, her hands resting over the very noticeable bump in her stomach.

Gur-Rai nodded to her and looked over the medic again. “Need help?”

Malinalli looked annoyed. “Um...not really.”

“Well, Commander said to help you, so you have to give me something to do.” He smiled as that lie passed right over his teeth, and straightened up...slamming his head into the top of the tent pole. Okay, he deserved that one.

Malinalli looked skeptical, but she sighed and looked around for something to give him. Her hand grabbed a plastic bag full of clear fluid and she handed it to him. “Go out into the woods and dump that somewhere.”

“What is it?”

“Saline, I didn’t mix it right, so it’s basically useless. It needs to be disposed of, a tree or bush should do the trick.”

“Molly, are you trying to get rid of me?” Gur-Rai smirked.

Malinalli smiled like she was about to crack. “Oh no, Gur-Rai, of course not. Now please, go.”

Gur-Rai bowed and exited the tent, hearing Malinalli telling the woman inside “Okay, I’m gonna send you up to Tygan for an ultrasound, but from the test results…”

Her voice trailed off, and Gur-Rai passed the ever shortening line of people waiting to be checked into the Avenger database. He waved at his sister, who was still in charge of making name tags, and walked off into the deep green darkness of the woods.

The noise and chatter began to fade away as he slipped into the quiet green, and Gur-Rai took a deep breath. All of his senses were sharpened out here. He could see through the darkness as clear as a crystal. His skin prickled with the slight dampness of the air, and he inhaled deeply, tasting the faint electricity on the air. No doubt his own psionic ability was tainting it slightly. Damn the Elders for giving him the Big Think…

He traveled deeper into the woods, the trees growing in size and the sky growing dim behind their massive leaves. His skin tingled with the feeling that something was in here with him, his hunter’s instinct on full alert. It was exhilarating.

The forest finally gave way to a clearing, bordered by a silver cliff with jagged rocks that looked quite menacing in the dim light. Supposing that this was as good a place as any, Gur-Rai poked a hole in the bag with his sharp nail and let the water drain out by a nearby tree. As the bag emptied slowly, he looked around the dark clearing, his eyes drinking in the surrounding green and purple and pink vegetation…

Wait, pink?

Gur-Rai dropped the bag and made his way over to the brush at the base of the cliff, the prickling of psionic energy dancing on his bare arms and face. He hesitated, drawing Darkclaw and clutching it tightly as he pulled back the brush...

“Well, well, well.” He mused. “Look at you.”

A Sectoid lay in the brush, bare and exposed, with its back to Gur-Rai and it’s face in the dirt. At the sound of his voice, the Sectoid seemed to startle, and grabbed at the mud to drag itself away.

“Ah ah ah, not so fast.” Gur-Rai twirled his gun on his finger. “Goodness, I should tell the Commander that the soldiers need more practice. That many bullet holes? You should be de-” He broke off, his eyes moving to the Sectoid’s finger as it scratched something into the dirt. Curious, Gur-Rai knelt down.

H-E-L-P

His eyebrows shot up. Sectoids, at least the ones he knew, didn’t know how to speak any human languages, and they CERTAINLY didn’t know how to write in any. And yet, he watched as this Sectoid used it’s clawed finger to slowly spell out “Help Me” in the dirt.

Gur-Rai took the Sectoid’s face in his hand and tilted it towards him. “Hey you. Can you understand me? Can you understand the words I’m saying right now?”

The Sectoid nodded, softly, then their face twisted up in pain and they clutched the dirt again, groaning in agony.

“...Who did this?” Gur-Rai asked. “Who hurt you? Was it XCOM?”

The grasping hand, shaking from pain, drew one long line, then two short ones on either side, the symbol for the Elders. For ADVENT.

Gur-Rai stood. “Stay right here. Well, I guess you’re not gonna go anywhere. I should say, don’t die before I get back.” He took off into a sprint, disappearing into the trees once again.

Gur-Rai poked his head back into Malinalli’s tent, where this time Lothar was helping her hold down a patient as she worked to pull a piece of shrapnel from a very old-looking wound in a man’s shoulder. “Hey. Molly.” Gur-Rai snapped. “I need your help.”

“I’m a little busy.” Malinalli grunted. “What do you need?”

“There’s a Sectoid in the woods.”

The two medics froze, and Malinalli turned to Gur-Rai with a look of horror. “Is this an ambush?!”

“Probably not, it’s just the one and it’s injured pretty bad.”

“So…” She looked at him funny. “You...want me to come see a dying Sectoid?”

“Yep. You’re a doctor, you’ll know what to do.”

“Technically I’m a nurse…” She muttered with a sigh. “And I have human patients. They take priority.”

“Human patients? Molly, that’s pretty racist~” Gur-Rai grinned, his sharp teeth flashing.

“I didn’t mean that!” She cried. “I’m not-!”

“Well if that’s true, you’ll come help the poor wounded Sectoid, won’t you?” Gur-Rai batted his nonexistent eyelashes.

Malinalli sighed long and hard, looking very tired. “Um...Lothar can you-”

“I got it, Molly. Go see the Sectoid.” He took the pliers from her, and she followed Gur-Rai out of the forest and into the woods.

Senuna wiped at a smudge on the Avenger’s window. From her quarters, she could see around the back on the ship, where cargo was diligently being loaded. There was the Hieromonk, his long white hair pulled back in a ponytail to keep it out of his eyes as he worked. So dutifully he obeyed commands, so eagerly did he complete any task assigned him.

It made her old heart hurt, and she sighed, leaning against the window.

Her door opened, and she looked over expecting to see Bradford or Jane. But it was Zhang she saw instead, walking slowly with a cane. She smiled at the sight of him: she’d already been chastised for calling him “Old Man,” but the idea was so funny to her. He’d never seemed old to her before.

“I should be the one walking with a cane, Colonel~” She giggled as she stood up. “What’s wrong? You look nauseous.”

Zhang refrained from speaking for a moment until she gestured for him to sit. Only when he did, he finally opened his mouth. “The soldiers outside are…”

“Oh.” She chuckled. “Right. You weren’t here for that. They’re called Skirmishers.”

“They look like ADVENT.” He said quietly.

“Yes, they do.” She nodded. “Your point?”

His hand went to his chest, where the staples were still embedded in his skin from the wounds he’d sustained. Senuna saw this, and sighed.

“They didn’t torture you, Chilong.”

“They look like the ones who did.” He protested, albeit calmly. “I know I am being unreasonable, Senuna. But I doubt how effective I’ll be in combat alongside these...hybrids.”

Senuna blinked slowly. “...Technically I’m a hybrid.”

“That’s different.” He said. “You’re different.”

“How am I different?” She asked. “More powerful? Are you afraid of me, Chilong?”

“You look human, Sunny.” He finally admitted.

“That’s only because I got lucky.” She stood up. “Do I, yet again, need to tell you where this body came from?”

“Are you implying you found out?” It was Zhang’s turn to chuckle, at Senuna’s discomfort.

She looked away. “Exactly, Chilong. Don’t act like I’m better than them just because I look ‘right’. In a lot of ways, I am much worse.”

There was an awkward silence between the two for a moment.

“I’m sorry.” Zhang relented. “This is not a subject I should joke about. I know how much it hurts you.”

“No.” Senuna insisted. “I’m sorry ADVENT did this to you. I’m sorry they took you. It was my decision that cost us this war, and it was my decision to send you into enemy territory.”

“No it wasn’t, Sunny. I made the choice to go behind enemy lines. I was determined to save you.”

“Yes, but if I hadn’t gone after Dante, in fact if I hadn’t let them take him in the first place...” She stopped, her voice cracking, and shook her head. “Do you...want to leave the Avenger?”

The silence in response made her nerves go into a panic, and Senuna looked up just as Zhang sighed.

“How much use am I to you like this?” He muttered. “An old, broken man, a shadow of who I was. To let me go would only bring good things.”

“Oh, don’t you dare!” Senuna circled her desk and plopped down on the couch beside him, pulling him into a tight hug and only loosening her grip when he winced out in pain.

“Sunny.” He wrapped his arms around her as well. “Please don’t be upset. I don’t like to see you cry.”

“Chilong, I’ve lost so much.” She whispered. “Please don’t go. I don’t want to lose you, too.”

He hesitated. “If I want to go, Sunny, will you stop me?”

She was eerily quiet, then finally, “How could I? If that’s...what you want.” She pulled away. “You’re my friend. I just want you to be happy…”

He smiled, and ran a hand through her silver hair. “I will stay, Sunny. If that is what makes you happy.”

Malinalli jogged alongside Gur-Rai, her little legs struggling to keep up with what, to him, was a slow pace. “Slow down!” She cried. “I’m out of shape.”

“So is my brother, and I wouldn't wait for him~” Gur-Rai chuckled.

“That’s a lie.” Malinalli smirked. “You’d absolutely wait for him. Right?”

Gur-Rai fell silent.

“I think it’s sweet.” She added. “You love your siblings so much. You put on this asshole persona but you’re really just-”

“Over here.” Gur-Rai cut in. “In this clearing.”

Malinalli bent down and picked up the empty saline bag. “Over here?”

“No, over here.” Gur-Rai parted the brush. “Hello there. Still alive? ...Good! I brought help!” He waved her over.

Malinalli came over and braced herself. At first she thought the Sectoid was dead, until she noticed the very slight movement of its body with each breath. There were bullet holes all throughout its back, and the ants had already begun swarming its body.

“Oh…” She said, her heart sinking. She got down on her knees beside the Sectoid. “He...she...um...they…” She looked it over. “What do you want me to call you?”

The Sectoid made a motion with it’s mouth.

“Hm? He?”

The Sectoid nodded.

Malinalli began to pull her tools from her belt. “Gur-Rai, can you turn him over?”

“Yeah.” He knelt down beside the Sectoid and began to slide his hands under him. It was then the Sectoid let out a cry of pain, startling both XCOM agents and sending Malinalli scampering back.

“Sorry! Sorry.” Gur-Rai stopped, his hands still under the Sectoid. “I‘m gonna go slow, okay? Let me know when you’re ready…”

The Sectoid remained still for a moment. Then with the tiniest movement of his head, he nodded. Slowly, Gur-Rai slid his arms the rest of the way under him and pulled him towards his chest, and the Sectoid gasped as he rolled over in Gur-Rai’s arms. The Chosen adjusted his grip and began to lay him down, but the Sectoid caught his arm, as if pleading him not to move.

“You wanna stay here?” Gur-Rai nodded. “Okay. Molly, can you work like this?”

“It’s better” She picked up her tiny scanner and began to wave it over the holes in the Sectoid’s chest. “...These were ADVENT guns…”

Gur-Rai nodded silently. The Sectoid in his arms whimpered uncomfortably.

“Almost done, hon. You’re doing great.” Malinalli said softly. “Okay…” She smiled. “Okay. Not as bad as I had thought…” She looked up at Gur-Rai. “Still bad though.”

“How bad?”

“Punctured lung is the worst one…” She pressed a few buttons on the scanner picture. “This thing is so slow, sorry. One of his Psytocrean glands looks like it’s ruptured, the one across from the Taux Filter.”

Gur-Rai nodded, his blank stare conveying he had no idea what she was saying.

“My point is, if it’s ruptured it’s probably bleeding cytotoxins into his body, and that’s bad.” She pulled an emergency blanket from another pocket, the tin-foil texture crinkling as she shook it out. “Let’s protect him from the hypothermia, at least.” She said as she wrapped the blanket around the Sectoid. “You got a name, hon?”

The Sectoid moved his lips, but barely any sound came out. Seeing the two staring at him blankly, the Sectoid seemed to huff and reached out towards the ground again, his sharp fingernail began to carve the shapes into the loose dirt while Malinalli and Gur-Rai watched intently.

“V…” Malinalli squinted. “Is that a 5?”

“I think it’s an E.” Gur-Rai said. “V-E-R...9-E?”

“Why is there a random 9?” She asked.

“Maybe it’s supposed to be a g.” He nodded. “So, that spells Verge.”

“Verge?” Malinalli furrowed her brow. “Are you sure it’s not Virgil?”

“He wrote it, Molly.” Gur-Rai shrugged, standing up with Verge wrapped up like a burrito in his arms. “In any case, let’s worry about names when he’s not-”

“-dying. Yeah.” She stood up and pressed a button on her comm link. “Hey Tygan? I have another patient for you.”

When they showed up at camp again, they attracted a lot of attention. People seemed to stop their conversations to look over at the two agents bringing a tin-foil wrapped Sectoid toward the Avenger. Gur-Rai kept his back straight and his eyes ahead, letting his posture speak for him. Malinalli, on the other hand, seemed to shrink inward under the scrutiny of the people.

Gur-Rai heard footsteps and saw his sister approaching him. He nodded to her. “Sister! I would wave but as you can see, my hands are full.”

“Yes, I do see.” She said worriedly. “Gur-Rai, what on Earth do you have?”

“A Sectoid.” He said simply.

She walked alongside him briskly. “Is it dead?”

Verge raised a finger, and Kon-Mai jumped back.

“Nalla itzar!” She yelped. “How is it alive?!”

“He’s a he, Sister, not an it. That’s rude.” Gur-Rai grinned. “And his name is Verge.”

Kon-Mai stared at him in disbelief. “You have NAMED it?!”

“Him, Sister, HIM!”

“Fine! Him! You-”

“Of course not. He told me that was his name.” Gur-Rai nodded, looking very proud of himself.

“Well...why did you bring him here?!”

“We’re gonna see if Tygan can fix him up.” He said. “Malinalli did what she could, but she is only a nurse and-” He broke off as his foot hit the metal dock of the Avenger, and he looked up with a smile. “Hello, Commander.”

Senuna, for once, did not greet the Chosen with a smile, but a look of deep discomfort as she saw the Sectoid in Gur-Rai’s arms. Behind her, Zhang leaned forward on his cane, his eyes glistening with barely concealed anger and panic.

“As you can see, I have a wounded soldier here.” Gur-Rai said. “I need to get him to Tygan ASAP.”

Zhang turned to the Commander. “I know what we just discussed, Senuna, but you cannot allow this.” He insisted. “That is a Sectoid.”

Gur-Rai raised his brow. “Now now, Zhang, let’s not be hasty. He’s in dire need of care, and he’s hardly a threat to you.”

“I do not care.” Zhang’s voice trembled with barely disguised fear. “Those hings...that thing…” His hand went to his stomach, and the stitches that held it together. “Senuna, I am begging you. Don’t bring it on board.”

“Look, I get it, you’re dealing with a lot right now, Zhang, and I am very sorry for that.” Gur-Rai snapped. “But Verge here was attacked by ADVENT soldiers. He must have pissed them off. And if he annoyed ADVENT enough to get shot at, he’s a friend in my book.” Gur-Rai adjusted Verge, the Sectoid’s limp head lying in the crook of his neck. “Now, let me on the ship.”

“Commander.” Zhang spat. “You cannot agree to let that Sectoid in. If you do, I…” He didn’t seem willing to finish his sentence.

Malinalli hung back beside Kon-Mai, the two women staring at the conflict before them helplessly. Malinalli desperately wanted to interject, but she had already spoken out of turn once before. She couldn’t win such a fight again so soon. Kon-Mai put a calming hand on her shoulder, her own cool magenta eyes watching the fight with intent.

Senuna looked back and forth between the Chosen and her dear friend. She looked lost. Her hands trembled and she clasped them in front of her, maintaining a stiff, militant posture. She opened her mouth to Zhang, but then looked at Gur-Rai, and ultimately said nothing.

“Commander.” A strong, soothing voice said behind her. Dr. Tygan stepped up, pulling a stretcher behind him. “According to the Medical Neutrality Protection Act, it is my duty as a physician to treat those in need as I see fit, regardless of political affiliation. Therefore, on medical authority, I am taking this Sectoid on board.” He didn’t even wait for her response as he nodded to Gur-Rai to follow him.

Zhang and Senuna stared at the two in disbelief as Gur-Rai walked right past them, laying Verge’s limp body gently onto the stretcher and following behind as Tygan pulled it toward the infirmary. As it shuddered over the patchy floor, Verge opened his eyes slightly and reached out, searching for Gur-Rai’s hand. The Chosen took it and gave it a soft pat.

“You’re on your way, friend.” Gur-Rai chuckled. “Don’t you worry; you’re safe now.”

Zhang sighed and shook his head, making his way back into the ship. “I suppose you couldn’t stop that, could you?”

“Of course not.” Senuna mused. “Medical authority...I rarely hear him pull that card.” Her eyes lingered on the disappearing stretcher, and a slight smile crossed her lips. “Chilong, will you be alright?”

“Define alright.” He grumbled. “I’ll be...resting if you need me.” Turning away from her, he hobbled back down the hall.

Kon-Mai touched Malinalli’s shoulder. “Come.”

“What about the Commander?” Malinalli whispered. “And Verge-”

“Trust me.” Kon-Mai smiled. “If the Commander had wanted to stop this, she could have.”

Malinalli fell silent. “...So she-”

She nodded. “Now, I must return to my work. And so must you, Molly.”

“I owe you one, big time.” Gur-Rai said as he transferred Verge from the stretcher to one of the beds.

“You don’t owe me anything.” Tygan insisted as he began to start up the larger scanner. “I would have helped either way. Sectoid or not, he is still a living being.”

“Right you are, Doc.” He let go of Verge’s hand, the Sectoid’s arm falling limp. “Will he be ok?”

“Only time will tell. But he’s survived this long…” Tygan bobbed his head from side to side. “With luck, and a bit of skill, he will live to tell the tale.” Tygan touched a button on his comm. “Victoria Immanuel and Chinonso Chikere, come to the Infirmary please.”

“Well in that case, I leave you to your work.” Gur-Rai said with a bow. “Unless you need help.”

“I think you leaving would be the best help.” Tygan muttered.

Gur-Rai backed out of the room, glancing back at Verge one last time as Tygan began shoving that god-awful breathing tube down his throat. He winced a bit, and almost turned around and insisted he remain.

Tearing his eyes away, he exited into the hall, where the Skirmisher woman from before was waiting, her legs crossed and looking lost in thought. One hand rested absently over her stomach.

Gur-Rai nodded to her, and she looked up, staring at him for a moment.

“Will I be seeing you around the Avenger?” He asked.

She hesitated for a moment, then she nodded. “Someday. This war is a long one after all. And I have a while to go.”

He smiled and saluted her. “Well then; keep fighting the good fight, soldier.” With a wink, he traipsed off into the darkness.

(Yes I love Verge too much. Sue me. I had to. :3

I needed an explanation as to why his name is Verge, I know others like @chimerathesquad have an explanation for it, but I like to think it’s because Malinalli and Gur-Rai had to share the brain cell that day~)

Archive: https://chosenstories.tumblr.com/

#xcom #xcom 2 #xcom 2 war of the chosen #xcom the chosen

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