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sweetestbasil · 9 months ago

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RUBATOSIS || chapter one: self digestion

PAIRING : Dr.Gaul's Assistant!Coriolanus Snow x Experiment!Reader-Insert ( afab, they / them, sometimes it )

RATING : 18+ ( no smut in this chapter, but it's very unsettling )

WORD COUNT : 13, 776

WARNINGS : infidelity ( coryo's engaged to livia ), power imbalance, unreliable narrator ( it's 3rd POV but focuses on coryo's view ), unhealthy dynamics, dehumanizing language, medical experimentation, body examination that has... strange vibes, body horror-esque, coryo and gaul are messed up in this fic, he's more like his book version than movie

SUMMARY : 🙶 rubatosis - noun. the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat 🙷

Fortune, marriage, and success - all within the hands of Coriolanus Snow, and it still isn’t enough to satisfy him. Tigris has grown distant and Livia is far more trouble than it's worth.

Dr. Gaul has just the solution for him.

A/N : This is my first time posting my fanfic work on tumblr, so I hope everyone has fun reading this. If there are any mistakes, lemme know. This is the first of five chapters!

[ If you want to read it on AO3 instead ]

self digestion || autolysis - stage one of decomposition

Oh, he hated this.

He absolutely despised this.

A click of the soles, stepping against the freshly clean sidewalk, rid of any possible careless litter and debris. Had it not been for others who, too, were using the same path, even if they were going in opposite directions, had he half a mind, Coriolanus would have taken the moment to prop himself against a wall and let out the loudest sound of frustration. It wouldn’t be unwarranted, it wouldn’t be uncalled for. Dare he say, he almost feels he should be entitled to it. It had only been four days, but four days should have been enough time for Tigris to get back to him already. The correspondence was not even something of dire content, at least, Coriolanus imagined so. Questions of Grandma’am, if her time with Mrs. Plinth ( he was not going to refer to her as ‘Ma Plinth’ ) had been going well, how was the solo business venture regarding Tigris’s fashion going, was there any renovations that the home needed, how were they — things that he assumed, wrongly he guessed, that would be so simple to answer.

God forbid that he still had the decency to still check in with his family even after he long moved out into his own place.

If Tigris thought she could play him for a fool, she was the one in the wrong; the signs were as clear as can be, that Tigris was trying to ice him out as much as she could. And after all he’s worked hard for? Fixing the home up, making sure the fridge never stays empty, stabilizing the family. He’s even gotten engaged before Grandma’am could even croak, and is letting Tigris design his fiancé’s wedding gown! What else was he supposed to do to try and gain back her warmth? Dance and clap like a District to make himself seem smaller, more dumb, to please her? There was a lock to his jaw, a small grit in Coriolanus’s teeth, as he sipped down the coffee in his hand, the other in his coat pocket.

He didn’t even wish to broach the idea of his fiancé on his walk to the Citadel. The heavy breath, a sigh, that breached itself out his lips. A hand raised to rub a gloved thumb briefly at the bridge of his nose.

Ugh, Livia… It was a pain to even internally taste the words of her name on his tongue.

It was an arranged marriage of convenience that he sought after, an extra piggy bank that he could expend on; and how quickly the elder Cardews lapped up at his palm when he planted the idea of marrying their daughter. A man who was of the old guard elite families, an assistant of Dr. Gaul’s, inheritor of the Plinth’s fortune, a gamemaker in training? They were downright salivating, that he almost felt embarrassed for Livia having to witness her parents’ stripped to their barest of greeds. The keyword being almost. Coriolanus needed to play his cards right to ensure his future, it was only fair game. If that meant taking his chance with the Cardews’ and their banks, he’d be just the fool that Tigris would want him to be if he turned them away. But, he could reluctantly suppose that the arrangement could be considered an equal drain on both parties. He seized their assets and their daughter seized up his free time. How could he forget the fundraiser dinner that Livia had invited them both to later on in the evening? She was delightful enough to remind him of it while they shared breakfast together, between his bites of quiche so that he couldn’t show a hint of a frown.

Coriolanus sucked in a careful breath between his teeth.

If she could only put herself to better use than just the one redeeming quality of a socialite. There was a slim chance he may have miscalculated. Perhaps it would have been an easier time, having something set up with Clemensia, or Lysistrata.

“Mr. Snow! Good morning and welcome back, Dr. Gaul is already waiting for you in—“

“In Lab H05, got it! And a good morning to you, too.” He smiled back effortlessly to the front desk worker, giving them a wave and just the right, charming amount of teeth with the upwards pull of his mouth.

Entering into the Citadel and seeing the hive of workers shift from one place to another in constant movement; they all tried to keep their voices at a low volume, but there was a constant buzz in the air, as they went from one hall to the other. Coriolanus maneuvered himself around them, slipping his deep mahogany overcoat seamlessly folded across his forearm. Full-Grain leather gloves that kept him warm from the cold, taken off his hands and instead placed neatly into the pocket of his overcoat. What a marvel it would have been for his young, naïve self to bear witness the luxury of a full wardrobe he now had. Never again did he have to spend long nights studying for the Academy besides an equally tired Tigris, who busied herself with trimming down the sizes of his father’s discarded shirts to fit him for school the next day.

It was a muscle memory at this point, the path to one of the many labs that Dr. Gaul had established her practice in. She had told Coriolanus that she had a lab for each different study and project she was passionate towards, ones that were more… presentable, to the average Capital citizen, and ones that were more uncensored. Having worked for over a year under Dr. Gaul’s tutelage, Coriolanus had seen a decent amount, the clean and the vile, but even then, he knew very well he had not seen all. He wasn’t even sure if he did want to see all. Especially regarding what happened last time he wandered around the Citadel during Academy days. The doors to Lab H05 were wide open, Coriolanus noted, seeing it in his line of sight, getting closer and closer. It was inviting, telling any worker to come in and step in at any time ( should Dr. Gaul be around ).

The air here was entirely different from what it was in the hallway. Where the air from when he first entered had been warm, inviting from the nipping cold outside. The vague smell of coffee, and an even fainter scent of something chemical, had mingled and intertwined to give the vaguest illusion that the Citadel could pass for a workplace like any other. However, the lab was as if entering an entirely different building. The lights that shone uncomfortably glaring, fluorescent lights that were hung overhead, on the ceiling. There were small lights, embedded into the floors and columns as well, guiding the path to any who walked in. It drowned the large room in an almost blue light. Lab H05 was one of the “clean” labs. A sterile scent in the air, the chemicals that were so faint in the halls were far more prominent, evident here. But, to the trained nose, there was something faint here too. The rusted scent of iron tickled under Coriolanus’s nose, but it barely registered to him anymore as anything concerning. Seeing the endless shelves of… odd specimens, the scent of blood was the last thing that should ever scare him away.

“Dr. Gaul, good morning,” He kept a steady tone, not one that sounded tired, nor too joyous. Being seen as her “favorite” didn’t mean he could speak to her as casually as he pleased. It just meant that he took her current attention. A fickle thing that could be stripped away at any moment if he showed any less than acceptable.

“Coryo,” He tensed his shoulders the same time she breathed it out in loving fashion. Her back once facing him, now turned as she walks towards him to cut the distance between the two. Since the gap started to form between Tigris and him, Dr. Gaul had taken to using that nickname on him. If it was to be used in terms of endearing him to her, or to mock him with the name that ghosts had called him, none could say for sure.

Coriolanus liked to believe it to be both, if he believed his assumptions of her character were right.

He never once let his eyes leave contact with her own, but he could hear the movement of her prominent, red latex gloves being peeled off her hands. She always thought it to be ironic, to wear such a color despite her profession. It matched the dye job that she had done on her surgical gown. He felt the weight of hands touching either side of his forearms, the smile on Dr. Gaul’s face caused a crinkle in her eyes as she bared all teeth in her smile. He wondered if she knew how threatening her grin looked.

“A morning to you as well. Has it been treating you good?”

It felt as if some sort of warm feeling was spreading out from Dr. Gaul’s hands, through his arms and into his body. What a disgusting sensation, it made goosebumps rise on his skin.

“As well as it could be.” Coriolanus’s voice spoke softly.

Livia drained his energy far more than he expected with her morning rambles and gossip.

Dr. Gaul’s hands smacked against his arms in a laugh, loud and knowing, she always knew, turning around to walk deeper in the lab. “Hah! By the sounds of it, it seems you’re not getting some peace of mind when you head home,” She turned back to look at him, giving him a glance, she was prying something out of him. “That’s no good, Coryo. You need to be in top shape to work, I can’t have my assistant become so… drained.”

The crease in her eyes showed again.

“If this is your preferred state, there is a new species of leeches I am working on. I assure you it is far more efficient than a Cardew of species.”

Well, now it was his turn to laugh.

A dry chuckle that slipped from Coriolanus’s lips, moving to follow Dr. Gaul. Placing his coat on a table made of rich wood, something less… aseptic looking. There were moments where he often froze under the woman’s gaze; a humiliating, bodily reaction that made him feel so small, so vulnerable as he used to be. Yet, it was in times like these, where he could understand how Dr. Gaul still managed to hold sway over people besides just exemplary displays of fear and power. There was a sense of humor to her, if he could call it that, where if a powerful woman like her involved yourself in - you felt so included, special.

“It was nothing like that. Livia just reminded me that after work today, she and I have to attend dinner later in the evening. It’s a fundraiser for the improvement and reconstruction of the Corso.” He turned his sight away from Dr. Gaul’s eyes, not being able to keep the contact any more. Flicking to the sight of the endless, bright shelves that lit up the tubes containing various specimens and experiments. Some failures, some on pauses, some successes, and some were just creative ‘what-ifs’; that would explain some of the seemingly useless fusions, like the jellyfish that had spider legs mixed in with some of its natural lappets, now encased in a resin tube. Coriolanus can’t recall if he was employed at the Citadel yet when this specimen was made. His fingers briefly touched upon the cool glass of it. What a disgusting idea. “I almost nearly forgot about it.” Dr. Gaul hummed at his response.

“Why, doesn’t that sound riveting! What a joy young life is, flitting from one function to the other, all the night-time glamor. You know, before I was transferred to work in the Citadel, I was the same. I thought of giving my children some of my old wardrobe from my youth, but it’s so out of the current trends, it just collects dust now.” What a blessing, for her kids. They could avoid the embarrassment of coming into the room looking as if they robbed the Pre-Dark Days exhibit at the Capital’s museum. The heels of Dr. Gaul’s heels clicked against the smooth, waxed floor. Coriolanus could feel the brief sliver of her heavy presence pass him by from behind, as she went to head over to another area in the room. It sounded vaguely close to the center of it.

“You must be excited, Coryo. Are you going to wear,” Her words paused. She was tasting the air for something. “Ah, what’s her name… That cousin of yours, the one who started her new business a while ago.”

What was the point of this conversation?

“Tigris.”

A brief flare tickled behind his ribs, reminding him of his thoughts earlier before. Standing up from his spot, fingers now leaving the glass of the odd ( sickening ) creature, his prints left slightly behind on the glass. Stretching his shoulders back with his arms, muscles pulled, away from their previously hunched position. Coriolanus walked over to where Dr. Gaul was, who stood nearby another table at the center of the lab. This time, this one was far cleaner, made of what seemed to be a material of stainless steel. In her hands she carried a manila folder, or two, in her hands; her painted nails sifted through the papers carefully. She was writing something quickly down inside of it. He wanted to know, but he held his tongue. Gaul would tell him if it was something he needed to be aware of.

“And I’m not sure. Livia is still picking out her dress and I want to match with her.” He smiled at her.

“Aren’t you a romantic,” She gives him a look out of the corner of her eye, the blue one that matched his. It made his skin crawl, he hated the feeling of it. “Is your heart melting, Snow?”

Coriolanus hopes she sticks to her career as a Gamemaker, being a comedian looks like a bleak future for her.

The smile on his lips grew wider, a small laugh at her words, his hand reaching to cover his mouth slightly to muffle the sound in the large room.

“I wouldn’t say that just yet.”

He wouldn’t say it at all. Livia? Melt his heart? Sure, she could melt his eardrums when she had that obnoxious snort to her loud laughs. It made her sound like a pig, shipped straight to the Capital from the farms of District 10. That would defeat the purpose of why he married her in the first place. It would be the utmost betrayal to himself, after he had promised to close himself after–

“Since you have a date tonight,” His ears perked up immediately. “I’ll reduce the amount of work you have for today, I’ll be merciful.” He wouldn’t argue if she decided to give him more. She pressed a manila folder into his open hands, her grip was tight on it. This was a folder that not many eyes needed to be on. Taking it carefully from her hands, he raised it to his eyesight curiously, catching the sight of the project name written on top of it.

PROJECT: CAPTIVE – A.01 PROMETHEUS

Coriolanus brought his gaze back towards Dr. Gaul. He assumed he slipped a confused gaze at her, because before he could even ask her, she’s already speaking up:

“This is a project I had started around the time you were exiled in District 12.”

His jaw slightly tightened. She didn’t have to use that exact word to describe it.

“It’s far more… unique,” Her eyes rolled around the room as she sought out the word, the moment it landed on her tongue, she locked her sight immediately onto him. Gaul’s smile pulled a bit more at her cheeks, a festering excitement that was slipping out from her internal confines. The threat of teeth in her smile was no longer an attempt of niceties, but far more sinister in its intentions. Coriolanus would argue on a good day that both were the same, that Dr. Gaul’s cruelty was her being kind. “Than my other projects. Far more different than any of my other muttations, this is a beast of a different breed, but one that you and I know intimately well.”

So this was a human experimentation, Coriolanus deduced.

Dr. Gaul would never dare to refer to those below Capital ranks as something human, there was always something else she had to refer to them by. Animal, beast, plague, insect, if it stripped them of their humanity, she was eager to take it. They shared similar sentiments, but sometimes, he had to give them some form of distinct name to separate them. “I’ve actually grown quite fond of it. Usually, I’d handle its tests and exams, but you seem like you need a pick-me-up.”

It should make him disgusted at how easily she could see through him.

The older woman stepped further away from him, into one of the dark recesses of the room. Lab H05 was one of the main center labs within the Citadel, meaning it earned itself the privilege to have its layout be connected to other rooms, outside areas, halls, and the like. It just happened to be, the darker areas that Gaul was heading in were towards the direction of one of the elevators connected to the room. Coriolanus watched her body retreat into the dimly lit area, not quite following after her. He didn’t know why. His hands felt stiff with the folder in his hands. The pounding beat of his heart in his ears matched in tempo with the steps of her heels against the floor. If he was going to move, she was going to need to ask him. She knew too, the doctor knew her own footsteps, and she was very aware when others’ joined in. Turning around to look at where he still was, standing, watching, she looked back at him. Coriolanus could make out her faint silhouette in the dark, but Dr. Gaul’s blue eyes shone brighter in the dark. As if she had tapetum lucidum, how it reflected so wildly. She was not helping the rumors made against her, that questioned if she ever used herself for a subject of fascination.

“Come now, Coryo. You don’t want to waste time.”

A silence fell upon them both.

“Understood, I’m right behind you.”

Walking after her, Coriolanus descended the small set of stairs that she had gone down from, he stepped into the dimly lit area. The manila folder was still grasped tightly in his one hand, at his side. He didn’t understand it, he didn’t understand her. Yes, she said that she wanted to cheer him up, but he’d be a fool if he was to believe that’d was to be the only reason why she was doing this. Volumnia Gaul, telling confidential secrets because she cared for his well being? No, there was always something else. An ulterior motive she wished to serve, or a lesson she wanted to teach. When he was brought back from his sentence of being a peacekeeper, it was not because her heart broke over him. She was not weeping at him having to tread his feet into the muck and grime of District 12. It was because she was holding him up to an ambition that both him and her both wished to see.

“This one,” Dr. Gaul started her words, occasionally turning her head to the side to make sure he was still following her ( he was ). “Started out as a simple curiosity. I had to sit with myself quite a bit to figure out a punishment that would actually serve some productivity.” Her hands reached behind her, flicking at the folder that Coriolanus was holding. He opened up the folder, finally, to look through the report. Whatever the Doctor was gesturing vaguely in conversation, it would be more explicit in her writings. “Displays of cadavers, desecration of the human silhouette, trauma to the cerebrum, these punishments can only go for so long before new ideas must be made. If the rebels expect the same disciplinary action, you can expect them to gain a tolerance to it.”

Squinting at the paper, he leaned his head slightly down to get a closer look of the subject. A small photo was attached to the report by a paperclip, it was a person who seemed to be in a similar age group to his. They looked clean, proper - they wore an ironed, white button up shirt under a dark vest, with unique, yet simple earrings they donned on. Pearls and tiny opals that dangled from a gold chain earring. A family heirloom, if Coriolanus had to guess. They smiled widely in the photo. Their teeth weren’t perfect, their upper cuspid was a bit more pointed in comparison to all others.

They had once been a capital citizen, turned rebel, to… this.

“I wanted to truly push my mind forward, and see if the impossible would truly be… well, possible.” Dr. Gaul grinned at the end of the sentence. Coriolanus lifted the photo up, after hooking his gaze unto the former for a moment. It’s a shame, he thought to himself. How pretty they are, had they not tainted their mind with childish ideas they would have continued to live in the comforts that they were so comfortably lavishing in before. He was curious as to whose family they once belonged to. A filthy curiosity enticed him, a want to digest more at the report at the risk of tuning out Gaul’s feverish ramblings.

“Personally, I outdid myself.”

There was a small desire to curse her under his breath, the writing for the subject’s name was far too rushed and messy to read properly. Did she want him to read the report, or play word scramble?

Dr. Gaul’s steps had stopped, the white noise of her chatter turned to silence was enough to bring his head back from the report. She stood between him and the elevator, holding her hands in front of her, folded. Peeking to the side, the button for the down level was lit up in a glow of red. Her smile widened.

“Curiosity eating away at you, Coryo?”

It still made his skin crawl, everytime she used that name. How frightening it was, that it also brought him a strange sense of the coldest warmth.

“You’ve talked so vividly about them,” Not clear enough. “I want to see what makes you so excited about them.” He wants to see if they could come close to bringing him out of his frustrations. Fingers that touched the edge of the subject’s photo twitched in tempo with the small ding of the elevator. Doors opening, Dr. Gaul stepped to the side. Hands gestured, letting him know to step in first which he obliged. Yet, no other steps than his own followed him in. Coriolanus turned around, a puzzled look on his face when he noticed how Dr. Gaul was standing in the middle of the elevator’s doors.

“Expected me to come join you? You can’t be so attached to my hip, Coryo.” She laughed, her hands reached in between her surgical gown and work attire. Pulling out a set of keys attached to her worker’s ID, she tugged a key off. Dr. Gaul dipped her body slightly in to twist at a lock that had revealed another panel of floor buttons aside from the usual floor ones. This must have been the key designated for the Citadel’s researchers and engineers. He had a private key of his own, but that was reserved for Game Makers. Still in training, but Dr. Gaul had persuaded the others to give him his own copy. “I have other things that need tending to, so you’ll have to have your fun without me.” Pushing a floor button that was labeled C09, glowing red under her touch, she gave him her key. She pressed into Coriolanus’s free palm, closing his fingers to clasp around it.

“You can keep this one. I’ll ask for another copy.”

Was it because this one almost seemed rusted over to hell and back? Coriolanus wasn’t an idiot. He could feel the textured sensation of something that, usually, was supposed to be smooth metal.

“Thank you, Dr. Gaul.” He spoke softly back to her.

Dr. Gaul sent him another smile towards his way, the abominable sight of her gradually leaving his sight as the doors closed. A divide now between the both of them.

Instantly, a breath of air was released from Coriolanus. His head reeled back, eyes closed, leaning against the wall of the elevator. He was now by himself. Free from that imposing woman, he finally could be released from her watchful gaze. Always gauging him, examining him as if he, too, was another subject on her surgical table. Perhaps, in a strange, distant sense, he was. Which is why he likes it far more when their interactions are limited. Even if it makes him feel guilty if he hasn’t spoken to her for any prolonged amount of time.

Another breath, he brought his head back down, eyes open. Opening his hand to where the key was held in his hand. It was frighteningly warm in his hand, most likely from when both Dr. Gaul and him held onto it. The material of the key was dark in color, rust having formed around some of the edges. Spots of dark stains marred its dull shine, it almost looks black in contrast to the key’s natural dark hue. This most definitely was blood, now dried. In his head, Coriolanus could see the vivid picture in his head: Dr. Gaul barely bothering to remove her gloves after leaving the examination room, holding the key between sticky gloves. A sneer pulled on Coriolanus’s face. He pocketed the key away.

He wanted to focus on something else.

The weight of the manila report at his side stuck out glaringly obvious, he still had yet to fully read through everything. His fingers were still thumbing between one of the pages, bookmarking a random place in the report. Should he wait to see the project on his own? Give himself something ‘fun’ to surprise himself with? A discomfort prickled at the hairs on his neck. No, he didn’t like surprises too much. Surprises meant no control, and no control meant chaos that wasn’t under his hand. And what more could be asked, when what he needed to know was right here. Hands flipped back open the manila folder while he waited for the elevator to finish its descent.

On the first page, there was only one photo of the subject, before the project had started. Dr. Gaul was always so thorough, so there must have been more to see. And how he loved to be right, when the sight of more clipped on photos peeked through in between pages. He stopped at the sight of them. These had been nude, taken in what was most definitely an examination room. They must’ve been in captivity for a few days for how haggard they looked. Gleam completely gone, with only a dark emptiness seen on their face. Signs of minimal swelling on their left cheek from when they were hit by a peacekeeper when resisting arrest. Bags under the optics, suggesting either sleep deprivation or developed insomnia. His eyes lingered on the photos that took in zoomed in shots of identifiable beauty marks that were scattered around their body. One around the back of their left acromial, around the sternocleidomastoid, one on the left mammary gland, and another on the right femoral muscle. Unconsciously, his fingers traced along the edges of each photo as he examined them until they traced after the words of ink.

The objective of the project: engaging and testing pain receptors on the subject. By use of non-licensed medication and surgical operations, the subject’s NTRK1 gene was mutated to a certain extent to gain the closest imitation to Congenital Analgesia ( while still keeping the subject alive ). If Coriolanus recalled, in his textbooks, Congenital Analgesia was a condition that always was given to a patient by a pass down from the parent. It was never really something ‘made’, or ‘given’. He could understand now why Dr. Gaul was so pleased with herself for accomplishing this feat. Curiosity was beckoning him, wanting to see more of what the report entailed.

Pages dedicated to each operation, each test done. There were pain charts made, scales from 1 to 10, to test out the nerve receptors. Each test, the numbers on the chart went lower and lower; 10s that went to 9s, to the current lowest being a 6 for the majority of the subject’s body. The more sensitive areas, such as the frontal or the palmar of the body, were around 7 to 8 on the chart. Flipping to the back of the contents, there was a small note in Dr. Gaul’s handwriting.

Today, please take care of Project Prometheus’s nerve exams. The last surgical operation was done last month and they have just now fully recovered. Update the report by the end of today, to measure if there are any fluctuations on their pain receptors.

Sounded simple enough. If this was all he had to do today, then there was a chance he could clock out from work even earlier to give himself space before tonight’s event. A ding finally was heard from the elevator, he was here at Lab C09. Folder closed in his hands, his foot stepped out of the elevator and onto the floor. What a drastic difference Lab C09 had been in comparison to Lab H05. If it hadn’t belonged to Dr. Gaul, Coriolanus may not have been able to believe that this was an actual functioning lab. It almost seemed forgotten by the Citadel, half of the fluorescent lights not working, or blinking at different intervals. It bathed the floor in a very gray, almost vile green hue. The scent of copper and rust was far more noticeable, and the smell of medicine felt almost nauseous here. There were no grand columns in sight, and no endless amount of shelves dedicated to new specimens and ideas of creation. The floors were unkempt, specks of dirt packed into the corners of where the wall and once sleek tiles met. Occasional cracks on the floor, parts of the design broken and shattered into bits of ceramic. The halls were long, with endless doors that ( thankfully ) all were open, empty, or both. With the exception of the large corridor doors at the other end. He could make out the sight of Peacekeepers that stood on guard, near the corridor door and by the elevator entrance.

This definitely was Dr. Gaul’s more… uncensored labs.

Coriolanus took a few more steps into the lab and noticed the large stain of dried blood that dragged from where his feet stood, past the corridor doors. Eyebrows raised at the sight, but his eyes did not widen. Marvelous, the subject might still be rebellious. If this was to be the case, he’d be severely unimpressed. All these exams to change the NTRK1 and nothing done to affect the amygdala.

Sloppy work here, Dr. Gaul.

Pushing through the corridor doors, after giving the briefest of nods and acknowledgement towards the Peacekeepers, he found himself exactly where he needed to be. Entering an area that was entirely void of light, except for one thing.

A large window glass on the other side, showing the examination room on the other side. It lit up this half of the hall, shelves of varying medicines and chemicals lined against the walls of the examination room. Surgical tools were lined up high on the wall, out of reach, not yet pulled out and placed on the side. Today there was no operation to be done. Examination lights shone overhead, and under it was the examination table where Project Prometheus sat.

They sat down so compactly, so politely, knees folded to their chest and arms wrapped around them, their face leaned against the crevice their legs gave. The subject definitely had changed, physically, since the projects had begun. Their skin barely had the warm glow it had in their photo, had it not been for the peeks of color on their joints, he’d assume that there was no more blood rushing through their body. Their hair that once looked so well maintained, luxurious, was cut at awkward angles. Yet, it still managed to frame their face well enough. Figures, that was former Capital genes at work. Their body has taken significant damage since then. Scars of various shapes were scattered all across, bandages wrapped in some areas, and stitches that dragged around entire limbs, like their arms, thighs, feet, even one on their face. As if they were some over-played ragdoll that was patched up far too many times. There was no fight he could see from their eyes, and no anger. Was the blood on the floor halls really theirs, or did that belong to someone else?

This could not even be called anything, but a shell of a husk.

Coriolanus stood there, watching, taking in the sight of them. It barely felt like he was breathing. And that alone irritated him. It’s like his body was trying to make itself seem smaller; as if he was somehow bothering them. He sighed out his frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. They couldn’t even hear him from the thick glass, what would he be so concerned with? Bringing his hand back down, about to open the manila folder once again to compare their ID photo to their current state - he peeked at their form again.

He had been noticed by it.

His breath felt lodged in his throat, his original action now tossed to the side, as they and him both just… watched each other. Their eyes that had looked so sullen and distant before, were so focused and vigilant of him. But, they didn’t seem scared of him. Their body didn’t look tense, their expression didn’t twist into any wrinkles. What feeling was running through their body? Could they possibly feel anything? Coriolanus stepped away from the glass, slowly, and down further into the hall, to where the door of their examination room was. A peacekeeper stood guard near the heavy door, beside them a surgical gown, cap, goggles and gloves were on a hook. Excusing the other to the side, so he could reach and grab the attire to put on himself. Coriolanus questioned, as he tugged the latex rubber gloves on, if he still wanted to entertain the idea of holding their test today. Teeth grinded inside his jaw, he hated to admit weakness, but it was no lie that they unsettled him when they had stared back.

That probably contributed to why Dr. Gaul favored the project so much, both must take joy from bringing him such unease. A sigh hissed from his teeth, as he put the surgical mask on.

“I’ll be back out in just a moment. I’ll let you know if an emergency comes up.”

It’ll be easy work, and then he can leave.

Opening the door, the sterile smell of the room rushed past him as the metal door was moved from its tight seal and then closed heavily behind him. Their head had moved away from where the glass window was, turned to stare at where he stood near the door, their folder still in his hands. Thinly-veiled sweat was forming inside the gloves, with the silence that fell heavy in the room. He opened the folder.

“Good morning, Subject A01, I am–”

…?

Did they say something?

“...I’m sorry, did you say something?”

Another tense silence fell in the air.

“... That isn’t my name.” Its voice was quiet, slightly hoarse but not entirely. Unexpected, considering their length of stay here. His fingers pinched tightly at one of the pages.

“...What do you mean?” He was not going to call them by their Capital name. They had long since lost the right to use it, after rebelling against Panem.

“Dr. Gaul calls me something else.” Coriolanus was going to kill it if they did not clarify.

“And what does she call you?” This was the nicest tone he could muster.

They spoke it once into the air, still looking at him with those dead eyes of theirs. Had Dr. Gaul been so fond of it to have given it an entirely new name? And they accepted and went along with it? That didn’t feel right, from what he’s examined about them so far. They were a rebel, they had fought against a Peacekeeper, they were dragged around the halls bleeding.

And they gave up their old name?

It had shifted out of its cradled position, their legs dangled off the examination table and their arms were placed on their side. Coriolanus could see the patient gown they wore more clearly. It kicked its feet in the air idly, as it waited for his response.

… Do they even know the situation that they’re in?

“...Right. Well, do you know why I’m here?”

“Not really. I’ve never met you before.” Was context clues also something it gave up while in captivity? “I know the guards, and I know Dr. Gaul. I don’t think I know about you,” They’re a prisoner, it’d be counter-intuitive if people were giving them info about every single staff member here. His mask covered the lower half of his face, but he hoped the slight shift of facial muscle was enough to convey that was trying to smile towards them. He walked further into the examination room, closer to where it sat and where the shelves of drugs and medical equipment were lined up. Their stare was burrowing holes into his back, while he shifted around, opening and closing shelves and drawers to check inside for what he needed.

“Well, I am Dr. Gaul’s assistant. You can call me Snow,” He was not giving his first name to a former rebel. “I’m here today because Dr. Gaul is a bit busy today to handle your check-up, so I’ll be filling in her role.” Gloves shifted bottles around, turning them around to read the labels. The disinfectant, cotton swabs, tweezers, needles, rubbing alcohol, syringes, the bite-rag, marker, he had it all except the custom medicine that Dr. Gaul had made for it. In the instructions of how to construct their exam, Dr. Gaul had explicitly mentioned that they were to take specific medication, as they had helped keep it conscious at all times for operations and exams. It was needed so that they’d be able to relay the ratings, which is why Coriolanus was reading yet another prescription bottle in his hands, squinting in frustration.

“It’s this bottle over here.”

A delicate, scarred hand had pointed at another bottle that sat idly on the shelf. Coriolanus turned his head slightly, seeing the subject no longer on the examination table, standing behind him quietly. Not staring at him, they were entirely looking at where their hand pointed. They were only standing just a couple inches away from his body, careful not to touch him as they stood on the tips of their toes to point at the medicine. With this proximity, it was easier for him to get a closer look at them. The stitches on its body were done with thick, prominent threads; there were far more beauty marks he could pick out on their face that the photos didn’t display. The patient gown was made from a material far thinner than he expected, a visible silhouette could be seen from underneath the flimsy cloth. His mouth felt unusually dry.

A cold chill trickled down his spine. He barely noticed them. He doesn’t even think it made a sound when it moved.

“Careful, keep your space from me.” He spoke, a careful warning to their ears and a threatening promise on his. He didn’t want to risk being so close to them like this, he barely knew the extent of how violent the project could possibly be yet. Still, they listened, backing away from him and putting their hand back down to their side. Both it and him stared at each other again, the tense air dancing back inside the room. They looked as if they had wanted to say something, and Coriolanus, internally, felt almost violent for how demure they were being with him. It repulsed him, how it felt almost endearing if he looked at them for a second more.

“Is something wrong?” Eventually he bit the bullet, speaking first between the two of them. He can’t bear another moment of silence with it.

“... I don’t need a bite-rag. I don’t think I really scream much anymore.” They still had an issue with explaining context to him more, he’ll tell Dr. Gaul that needed some work lat– His jaw ticked… Why did he care about your abysmal social skills? It was a captive, it had no one to speak to other than their own captors. Pulling down their prescription from the shelf, a dark, thick liquid, he said in return: “It’s best to have it on hand, just in case you need it. Now, return back to the examination table.” For a split second, he thought he could see their gaze soften at him. Were they seriously entertaining the idea that he was being nice to them? Coriolanus just didn’t want to deal with their sounds while he worked. It’d be like trading one screaming fit for another, for when he had to go on his date with Livia later in the evening.

They nodded, and followed his command, walking back to sit on top of it. Their body was sitting in his direction though, observing, waiting for him. Coriolanus still felt unsure about them, but… it was strange, their obedience. It made him suspicious of its intent with all this. Trailing back to the center of the examination room, he placed all the tools on a metal tray. Pulling out an exam stool from under one of the tables, he set the syringe to the cap of its prescription. He pulled the plunger of the syringe up, watching as the barrel filled up with medicine, until it sat nicely. The needle left smoothly from the cap, and a drop of the liquid dangled at the edge of it. This form of silence he liked far more better.

“...Do you have family, Dr. Snow?”

So close. Coriolanus flicked the needle harshly, the drop hitting somewhere else. He placed the ready syringe down, and picked up the black marker. Turning back towards them, their head rested in their palms, watching him intensely.

“That’s none of your concern. Now please, remove your gown so we can get started on the examination.” Grabbing the stool to pull it underneath him, he got comfortable in the seat while it moved to get up. As their hands reached behind them to undo the tie around their waist first, it still spoke ( much to his chagrin ).

“I was just wondering since Dr. Gaul usually talks whenever she comes to visit.” That explained why their throat was not as hoarse as he was expecting. Dr. Gaul was treating her trials with them as a morning brunch. “She sometimes talks about her day, or talks about her family.” They loosened the tie around their waist, the fabric more flowy around their lower body. Coriolanus stared intently, taking in the first peek of skin. Looking past the scars, despite the stitches pulling at parts of their skin, and the dented scars, their skin looked soft, malleable. They must’ve been popular on weekend nights, back then. Their hands reached up to undo the tie around their collar. Rather than watching him while he worked, it was his turn to watch them. There was that beauty mark on their left acromial. Eyes leisurely trailed back up to their fingers, the smallest note with how it fumbled around behind them to untie the flimsy string. Their movements were clumsy, in his eyes, which almost surprised him. “She likes to talk about her three kids often.”

Coriolanus looked away from their stitched fingers, confusion on his face.

“Dr. Gaul only has two kids.” He’s seen the photos she has in her office. She has two sons, both who have gone on to have families of their own. Not once has she mentioned a third kid, Coriolanus isn’t even sure it was possible at her age. Didn’t menopause usually affect a person’s chances of getting pregnant? Maybe it was a secret child she had abandoned at the maternal ward while dropping off her resignation as an obstetrician.

“No, she has three. She told me their names: Caius, Martius, and Coriolanus.”

Oh.

Oh, now that’s…

“I see. You must be closer to Dr. Gaul than I am.”

He didn’t know what to really say to that. There was really nothing for him to go and argue about, especially with the patient. Coriolanus couldn’t quite outright say that the third child was him, especially when he specifically told them to refer to him by his last name. And if he revealed that this was an entire lie on Dr. Gaul’s end, he wasn’t quite sure how the woman would react for doing so. It wasn’t his place, when he had no idea what Gaul had wanted to achieve. He understood the physical punishment and hypothesis being put upon Project Prometheus, but he had yet to understand where the emotional, and the mental, aspect of this punishment was. Dr. Gaul will tell him if it was needed, or he’ll figure it out based on his own conclusions. That must be one of the purposes Dr. Gaul had assigned this task to him.

“Alright. I’m done.”

Coriolanus blinked. He didn’t even realize he lost focus on them, he let out a small exhale as he lifted himself from the exam stool, marker ready in hand.

“Right, for the next step of this exam, I need to…”

Words trailed off for him.

What an entirely different view it was, from before, looking at them only from the back. From behind, it was just read to him as a large canvas of skin that had already been stained and painted on. Nothing that gave way to what person under the flesh could be. Yet, the front… There was more to regard and take note of, a far more different feeling than just having viewed from the photos alone in the reports. If he were to ignore the marks left on their body, had they stayed perfect from before, he could’ve made the argument about their body being more alluring than the average Capital citizen. That familiar, dry feeling touched his throat again. What a waste, for genes like that to be wasted on a rebel. There were more beauty marks and moles in the front, along with more stitches and scars. Coriolanus could see the surgical scars that were healing between their pectoralis major area. A curiosity rose, questioning how scarred tissue would feel under his gloves. He raised an eyebrow, as his gaze dared to move to a lower section on their body. Must be for easier mapping, that Dr. Gaul decided it was best to have their pubic area shaved clean.

“...Dr. Snow, are you okay?”

His tongue darted out to lick his dry lips under the surgical mask.

“Fine, just thinking about Dr. Gaul’s instructions.” He was going to go insane before he could even head to the fundraiser tonight. Coriolanus reached his free hand out, hovering it over their shoulder area, guiding them to stand closer to the area between the exam table, and his stool. He took note, that despite the way their body has changed since their captivity, their body still held a warmth that radiated off from their skin. “Stand here, please. For this next step, I’ll be using this marker here to map out the different muscles and areas on your body. Are you familiar with this?”

The subject nodded, a yes from their lips.

Good.

The sound of the marker cap popping off filled in the lack of words on Coriolanus’s part, the black cap falling on the tiled floor and rolling off to a dark, distant corner of the room. “For today, we’ll only be focusing on the external pain chart. Meaning skin surface only,” He lifted the subject’s hair, pushing up against the subject’s head, strands that were long enough to block full access to the neck. Bringing the marker up, he pressed down the chiseled tip of alcoholic ink on the subject’s skin, making the first section of dotted lines. Writing on their skin in careful, small letters, the areas that compromised their neck; the semispinalis capitis, the levator scapulae, the rhomboid minor–

“How long have you worked for Dr. Gaul?”

Fingers nearly stumbled in drawing when the muscle stretched in movement, he lifted the marker carefully away from its skin. The idea of putting in Gaul’s suggestion box the order of a mouth gag was becoming all the more tempting to him.

“It doesn’t concern you.” Coriolanus responded, coolly.

He pressed the marker back down on its skin, moving himself to the anterior of its body. Between his gloved fingers, he held their chin. The muscle limp in his hands, letting him lift their chin up to show more, exposing the unfolded expanse of their skin. The project was an annoying one, but at the least,they were a pliant one. The black dotted lines drew itself across the subject’s body: the sternocleidomastoid, the sternohyoid–

“How has your day been so far, Dr. Snow?”

Would Dr. Gaul throw him to the curb if he strangled one of her projects?

Coriolanus lifted himself slightly from his leaned down angle, his fingers that once lifted its chin up, had pulled their chin back down to look at him eye to eye. Its gaze stared back at him with such emptiness, a lack of anything to be seen, no anger, no defiance, no discomfort, not even joy. His eyebrows narrowed down slightly as he took in the face that held no question to how, and what, manner he held their body in. Were they trying to please him? Make his guard drop down by asking questions, hoping that he’d become more sympathetic towards them?

“Dr. Gaul isn’t here. You are under no requirement to attempt conversations like you’ve done with her.” He spoke, trying his best attempt at sounding sympathetic to their ears. That would be the easiest explanation. The soul of them was sucked out by Dr. Gaul forcing them into an illusion of a grotesque socialite. That’d explain away the project’s incessant speaking.

Yet, the subject had tilted their head under his fingers. The slightest push against his grasp.

“... Do you not like talking, Dr. Snow? Dr. Gaul always looks so happy when she’s talking.”

So they were trying to suck up to him. He locked his teeth. And to think, he was giving them a chance of redemption, by assuming that they had been conditioned to engage in meaningless conversation. Maybe he was wrong about their obedience. There was still a spark of a rebel within them regardless of their time, their experiences, in captivity.

“I only ever see Dr. Gaul, so I got excited to see someone new. I’m sorry for upsetting you,”

They could’ve fooled him with that tone of voice. They sounded as dead as their eyes had looked. Yet, Coriolanus bit his bottom lip as the doubt touched his head; the subject’s stare, if he gazed deeply enough he felt as if he could almost make out a sullenness to them. Were they legitimately apologetic? He didn’t want to even know the answer, he just wanted to finish this job as quickly as possible. He let go of their chin, releasing it. Gloved fingers now traced the space between their shoulder and collarbone, the subject angling their neck to the other side to give him room. He brought the marker back down to their skin, more dotted lines appearing under his wake.

“... What exactly is your relationship to Dr. Gaul, if I may ask?” He hated them, he decided. He hated how quickly they managed to rope him into this dumb small talk. It was almost audible, the sound of the subject blinking, feeling their gaze boring under the layers of his clothes. Did he say the wrong thing? Did they not want conversation? He adjusted the weight of his stance, uncomfortable under the silence the subject had unwillingly placed him in. Was he not doing what they wanted, was that not enough for them?

“Dr. Gaul is…” Their words trailed off. They were trying to find the words, unsure of what to say to him. They most likely didn’t want to try and insult her, considering her assistant was in the room with them. They don’t want to risk possibly earning more punishment. Project Prometheus may have been smarter than what he initially assumed. Coriolanus moved back to the posterior, hands trailed themselves across the subject’s shoulders, feeling, to remind him of the muscle underneath before he marked it down. Trapezius.

“Dr. Gaul is my caretaker, I think.”

Well isn’t that something unique.

If the subject had decided to say captor, overseer, punisher, he wouldn’t have cared. It would’ve been honest. Caretaker? That was something different, that was something sympathetic. The thought of them turning this twisted dynamic into something heartfelt, fell sour on his tongue. It made him feel repulsion towards them. Why bother to lie? “Tell me about that.” His voice was soft, inviting the project to open themselves to him. As the marker continued to mark their skin, Coriolanus took one of its arms under his hand. The subject’s fingers twitched slightly, when he brought his hand under theirs. Their hand was not that big in comparison to his own, unable to fully fill out of his palm. The fingertips were usually the more sensitive parts, when it came to sensations. He hummed. Adductor pollicis.

“...I’m not sure how to describe it well.” They sounded unsure. Spending this extended amount of time with them, Coriolanus could make out the slight tonal differences they had in their voice. It was very small, though. The muscles in his hands seem to slightly tense.

“Do your best for me.”

Their fingertips, the slightly yellowed nails, tapped slightly at the latex material of his gloves. Almost as if fidgeting to gather the words, the right ones, to say to him.

“Dr. Gaul has always been… someone there, I suppose.” Because she has to. “The guards are there too, but they don’t really notice me in the way Dr. Gaul does.” He wrote down on another part of the subject’s arm, drawing another dotted line. Brachioradialis. “Even though the tests kind of hurt, but I’m getting used to it now, she’s been the only one so far to give me a name, a birthday, check up on me, tell me about her day,” He was almost impressed at how their were trying to upsell the ‘normalcy’ of their captivity. A new name and birthday? Maybe the secret third child of Dr. Gaul wasn’t him, but actually them instead. He almost laughed aloud at the prospect of it. Coriolanus turns to the other side of their body, taking the other arm of the subject to write on after finishing the other. Biceps brachii. “That’s like a caretaker, right?” And now it was asking for his confirmation? It truly does want to appease him. He let out another hum, as if he was thinking to himself when he was going to go along with their delusions. “It sounds like Dr. Gaul cares a great deal for you.” He lied to them.

Making his back to the anterior of the subject’s body, he stood in front of them, the subject tilting their head up to him. Project Prometheus was shorter, in comparison to him, standing at eye level against his chest. Latex touched the area of the linea alba, Coriolanus kept his gaze steady on them and they did the same. There was a silence that fell between them, but it felt so uninviting to him now that he finally had it. The subject still held their indifference, their apathy, and he wanted to know why it bothered him so much when he should like how easy of a prisoner they were being. No, there had to be something more. There was always something more. His fingers dragged down their skin, and his marker followed behind, writing down the names of the muscles he touched. The subject had moved their arms, and Coriolanus tensed for a second, thinking they were finally going to react, going to grab him, hit him, something – yet, their arms shifted away from the angle of his body, moving in to hold the muscles of the pectoralis major up in their hands, cupping them. They were making more room for him to write on their upper abdomen.

Coriolanus loathed them.

Had he had half the control, he would’ve smacked the stitched hands away. He liked it far more when they acted like a ragdoll, instead of this game of pacification it was trying to play. Writing down on the external oblique aponeurosis, he brought his hands back up their skin until it rested under their wrists. He held both their wrists on either hand. “Please, bring your hands down so I can continue mapping.” The words came out more as a whisper than he had intended. They instantly had listened to his command, letting their arms fall back on either side and their chest exposed to him. His eyes lingered briefly on the sight, taking in the small details that made the subject unique. The beauty mark on their left mammary gland, now in his line of sight. No longer blocked by the limit of only just a photo. There was that dry feeling in his mouth again.

Carefully, bringing a hand up, gauging their reaction, he held one of the mammary glands in his free hand and a marker up in the other. Judging their face, they seemed neutral, no frown or smile, no wrinkle, no squint. He could assume there must have been discomfort under those dark pits for eyes. He knew that’s what he felt, doing this right now. Coriolanus wondered if it would have been better or worse, if Project Prometheus were to be more… reactionary.

“Let me know if anything bothers you.” Dotted lines followed after his hand. He’d take it, the laborious small talk. It was much more preferred right now than this tortuous silence that had fallen between them. Thick and constricting, had it gone on any longer, Coriolanus knew he would drive himself internally insane if he was to be left alone to his own thoughts. If Project Prometheus had done nothing while he was holding onto their very own breasts in his hands. Had it been any other person, they would’ve squirmed under his touch. Possibly even a twitch to unconsciously move away, as the marker moved against the skin of the areola. The mapping of the right gland was dotted and marked completely.

“You don’t bother me.”

Now, that felt deliberate.

Ink halted, stopping after writing out the final letter of the pectoralis minor. The words were written next to the beauty mark he had noted before. Coriolanus was tempted to make dotted lines around the area, as a place of special interest, though marks like these were no major muscle or nerve. Blue eyes had looked up through thick lashes, he slightly lifted his craned head up to get a better look at the subject. Peering towards their face, he didn’t know why he expected anything different. It was the same look of disinterest, the broken lights hung above them casted a haunting shadow over their face. Did he also look similar, when they stared back at him? In certain angles, despite the unnerving look the room had given them, Coriolanus might’ve thought their eyes seemed naturally soft towards him. Innocent, maybe.

Did they see nothing wrong with what he was doing? … Or had all the tests and operations ruined not just their nerves, but fried them, that their sense of danger seemed near non-existent?

Was this another form of appeasement that it was trying to pull on him?

Unconsciously, his hands had released themselves, finally, from holding onto Project’s Prometheus’s breasts. Both now marked, his free hand slid down the expanse of their abdomen. The ridges and bumps of their scars and stitches were felt briefly, the full grasp of the sensation blocked by the barrier of latex rubber wrapped around his fingers. Not once did he look away from the subject as his hands made its way down, and neither did Project Prometheus. His hand stopped at the tensor fasciae latae. Something was wrapping itself around the cavity of his chest, making the activity of breathing a difficult feat for him to do. Coriolanus didn’t know what he was doing. Was he trying to garner a bigger reaction from it? An attempt of possibly stirring violence, even?

Maybe it was delaying his own discomfort, he realized. Looking down, he stared to see the spread of skin below that had no splotches of black ink. They were shorter than him, he’d have to get down on his knees if he wanted to have clear and easy access to mark its legs. How humiliating… Having risen up through the ranks and bringing the Snow family back to its rightful place of acclaim and fortune; only to fall back down on his knees to a prisoner, a former rebel. If the other families caught wind of this, he’d never hear the end of it.

Reluctantly, still holding onto their hip, his body moved itself to the floor. Knees touched against the uneven grout of the tiles, the position a bit awkward. He was thankful, for the surgical gown he wore, that the vile floor of the examination room wouldn’t stain against his clothes. Tracing his hand down to the stitch mark path of their leg, he rested it at the back of their thigh. Coriolanus tilted his head up, ready to command that Project Prometheus moved their leg more towards him. But, his words fell into a silent, held breath as he gazed up at them from his position. The shadow that had cascaded over their face briefly from before was now entirely enveloped around their body. Sickly green fluorescent lights shone above their head, akin to a haloing effect. Illuminated around the edges of their body, their hair, the subject still looking at him. Only him, and nothing else. A thrumming noise was loud in his ears; it felt dangerous. It felt like a warning that something was wrong here. He had felt it before.

Project Prometheus moved its leg forward, more into him, without a word ever spoken between the two of them. How pliant it was with him.

He pressed the marker against their skin as thank you, dipping his head back down to their thigh. It would be risky, if he lost focus. There was still so much he had yet to know of the subject, the layers that were contained behind the flimsy shield of flesh and tissue. He dotted the area of the vastus medialis, careful not to press the ink against the subject’s stitches so as not to irritate the healing skin there. Maybe its attempts of appeasement were working on him. Not once did he think he’d have a shred of enough care to think about the possibility of ink seeping into their wounds.

He marked down the region of the knee. Patella.

“...You’re a very gentle person, Dr. Snow.” The subject spoke quietly, in a whisper just loud for him to hear. “You treat me so carefully, I barely feel a thing when you hold me.”

It mistook his lightweight hands for kindness. Reality was that he was just wary about setting them off.

“Does Dr. Gaul not treat you in the same manner?” The words came out softly from him. Reaching now the ankle of the subject, gloved hands reached down underneath the sole of its foot, lifting it up for better writing access. Instinctively, Project Prometheus placed their hands on either side of his shoulders so as to not fall. Their body leaned itself more into him, using him as a steady weight of support. The proximity of their small body bent over his, the glare of the fluorescent lights was entirely swallowed up, casting a dark shadow over him, blocking the light from reaching him. Could they feel, under their ragged fingers, the tenseness in his body at their action? If the subject wanted to, they could easily go in to attack him in this vulnerable position. He’d do the same if he was in their position. He continued to write, marker steady in hand. There would be no satisfaction to be gained for the subject, in seeing him stumble and cower.

He wrote the words ‘abductor hallucis’ on their foot.

“She… does not treat me rough, no. If I had to describe it, I think the word for it is more… ‘inanimate’.” He doesn’t quite recall if a new law was passed that required captors to treat prisoners humanely. It sounded as if it was trying to recall certain words again. Should the exam go entirely smoothly with no problems, he might feel generous enough to convince Dr. Gaul to bring Project Prometheus a dictionary for them to study up on. Not like it would do much. It wasn’t like they had anyone to really practice their knowledge on.

Coriolanus wondered what the prisoner was exactly before all this, back when they were formerly Capital. They lacked the air of dignity and ignorance that most Capital elites donned well, but maybe that could be attributed to their decay while staying here. Or perhaps the prisoner had come from a small, simple family. The kind that handled all the manual labor that the Capital never liked to speak loud about. The workers who were hardly ever seen, or acknowledged. That could explain why he never heard any recent fuss over a family’s child being ‘sent away’. No one would ever care for a background prop.

It held onto his shoulders more tightly, as he adjusted the subject’s position. It didn’t want to topple over him.

Project Prometheus's right foot now marked accordingly, he placed its foot back down on the rotten floor. Ready to reach his hand to hold onto their left, the subject moved without the need for his touch. The left leg was gestured forward for him. How sweet of them to realize a pattern. “I don’t mind it, though. As long as she still talked to me.” How fascinating. The subject was pacified by the easy act of conversation. Such a simple thing to be pleased by, Coriolanus could think they were joking. Regardless of how things were going so far, he still didn’t forget it. The bloodstains on the halls was something he could not erase so easily. That suggested, no, it told him, that Project Prometheus had something up their sleeve still. Though, nothing had occurred. Nothing had happened because they were still speaking to each other. Coriolanus continued to write on its foot. Lumbrical.

“...Do you get upset if she doesn’t speak to you?”

He couldn’t help but ask.

He wanted to know. He needed to know.

“...I get lonely, and sad.” Was it trying to downplay its emotional reactions to him? “I wonder if it's because I did something wrong to upset her.” If a prisoner of his tried to fight back numerous times during their captivity, he’d get annoyed too. It was strange, though. Coriolanus knew that morals and values were of no concern for Dr. Gaul, especially against rebels. Any torture, punishment, placed on them was not seen as being done onto another person, but just another animal, a specimen in her collection. It would not be above Dr. Gaul to cut off a limb, or two, to get a prisoner to stop fighting. So… why not do the same here? Perhaps, this form of mental and emotional punishment was more lethal than he assumed. Another curious test from the mad woman, it was impossible to ever understand her whims.

“Sometimes, I think it might be one of her tests.”

Coriolanus didn’t say those words.

He didn’t like this. Such a statement, spoken so simply, brought him a sick swirl of unease.

The movement of ink had halted, yet his mind continued to race. The thin hairs at the back of his neck stood at its ends, and he held tightly onto the marker in his hand. Quietly, carefully, he placed the plantar surface of Project Prometheus’s foot back down on the uneven tiles below the both of them. Reaching his hands up to his shoulders, where the subject’s extensor retinaculum were, he held onto it firmly. The subject put up no sign of objection. Sweat was slowly building up under the tight material of the gloves he donned on, but it was not a sweltering warmth. It was a cold, clammy sensation.

“What do you mean by ‘one of her tests’?” Punctuating the words at the end, he kept his tone inquisitive, curious. Perhaps, a dabble of suspicion. Not towards the subject, but more towards the matter. What was needed in this situation was caution, and he’d be a gutted fool if he was to let the rebel become aware of how much the question startled him to his core. For right now, he’d play the gentle, confused assistant that it assumed of him before. He already told the lie of it knowing Dr. Gaul better than he did.

“Her tests,”

It spoke as if he knew! He knew very well what it was. What once was a flash of fear, had become a steady stream of anger. He knew because he is Dr. Gaul’s assistant. It was his job to follow in the steps she’s placed out for him, and more. Why would a prisoner, a subject, know about the ways Dr. Gaul operated? How much does Dr. Gaul tell it in these ‘conversations’?

It made him sick, that the lie he told before could actually become true.

“I never notice it until it’s done, until she tells me at the end. She never shares the results with me.” For once, he is tempted to strip his pride and beg for more details. “Most days, it’ll be physical tests, like today. Others, it’s more… talking, or writing.”

“Writing?”

It came out quickly before he could properly think his words over. He doesn’t recall seeing possible writing exams in Subject A01’s report. To be fair to himself, he did skim it briefly since he was only just now introduced to the project. There wasn’t much time for him to familiarize himself with all the tiny details written inside. At least, the things that were legible.

“Dr. Gaul hands me scraps of paper and just asks me to write what I think. Like uh, a journal…I guess.” Keeping a diary couldn’t be the only test Dr. Gaul was having it do. If writing random streams of thought was enough to be intellectually challenging, he wouldn’t be seeing students at the University fighting to win passing grades. “I don’t understand the reason why, and I never remember what I write. My memory is not the best.” It was giving him an excuse to try and shift the conversation. How funny it was, trying to take control of the situation. He’d never let such a thing happen. In this examination room, there was only one person and a subject, the dynamic that was at play was clear. The grip Coriolanus had on their extensor retinaculum tightened, an unconscious movement on his part. Project Prometheus had taken in a soft breath of air at the action, the sound loud enough between the both of them. Had it not come from a prisoner, what a sweet sound it could’ve been.

“Could you explain it to me,” His voice came out softly, despite the gnawing irritation that he held back. The tight grasp he had loosened, one hand stroking down a careful thumb down the stitched wrist of the subject in gentle circles. He shifted in his kneeled position, adjusting to a more comfortable weight as the layers he wore started to wear at him, an uncomfortable shift. Wearing the surgical uniform could be sweltering. Tilting his head up slightly to gaze up at the subject, praying that his eyes did not betray and reveal his inner thoughts. “Try to remember.”

Coriolanus could’ve sworn he saw a slight falter, a tremble, in the dark optics of Project Prometheus. Its supercilium furrowed just the slightest inch upwards; did it look apologetic? The first visible change of expression he’s witnessed in the time he’s spent here in this examination room, and it’s one of regret. The subject’s fingers twisted itself into the fabric of his surgical gown, opening its mouth partially as they sought the right sound, the right word. He could make out the faint peeks of its canines.

“... I’m sorry, Dr. Snow. I can’t remember at all,” They breathed out, in admission, surrendering. It treated it as a guilty confession.

“Not a thing?” He whispered softly to them, prompting them to speak more. Coriolanus applauded himself internally, for how sympathetic he sounded.

The subject shook its head.

“My memory is not good.” Again, it reaffirmed its previous statement.

Was his question that hard? Surely, specks of small details, flashes of imagery, that would be sufficient enough of an answer for him. He wasn’t asking for a full essay of their inner workings ( though, he wouldn’t mind it ). However, as both their eyes continued locked in a stare, his thumb slowed its movements. The leathered finger stopping at the center junction of its stitches, the feel of the raised, textured skin apparent under the feel of the material. Project Prometheus was being sincere. Its face hadn’t changed, its body had not moved away from him. Dare he say, the minimal space between them; something he did not mind earlier before, had become much more apparent in his feverish mind. The subject answered him so honestly, it made his suspicions of before seem so ridiculous now. One thing did nag at him though, the writing, the insistence of journaling, the memory.

…

“... Do you remember how long you’ve been here?” Two years ago, Coriolanus recalled. Two years ago, that was when he was abandoned in District 12. When Dr. Gaul had started the experiment on Subject A01, busying herself with curiosities while he was drowning himself in depravities and vices, waiting out like a dog for some form of mercy to reach him.

A new, tense silence consumed them both. He watched the subject carefully, taking note of the slightest movement that could give any indication of anything more. Tracing with his eyes, following how Project Prometheus’s cuspid snagged at their chapped bottom lip. A faint flush of red spread across the muscle, from the pressure exerted on it. Unconsciously, it reminded him of how dry his own mouth felt, the hoarse sensation in his throat. He darted out his own tongue for a brief moment to wet his own mouth, hidden underneath the surgical mask he wore. Nothing was being said between them, but yet there was so much being told. A fierce feeling was soaring, running through the veins of Coriolanus; he knew what it meant and he feared for it. Not for what the answer could be, but what it possibly could bring up.

“You don’t remember how you got it here at all, do you?” His voice was so hushed, spoken as if taboo. It gave him the same feeling of it, the rush as the blood was entering his head and his heartbeat loud in his ears.

A form of dissociative amnesia.

Project Prometheus had developed gaps in memory due to an extended amount of isolation and exposure to severe trauma. It all clicked in Coriolanus’s head. He understood now what Dr. Gaul was attempting to achieve in her games with the subject. The tests, the daily conversations, the journal writing – Dr. Gaul was examining the subject’s mental decay as part of the Project’s ongoing research. Not only has the woman deteriorated and changed the way the prisoner’s nerves had worked, but their mind as well. Is continuing the Project even viable to do anymore? It was a form of punishment. Would it be ethical to operate on a being of flesh, when the subject no longer knew what it was being punished for? The question would most likely give Dr. Gaul a kick of joy. She loved to ponder questions worthy of debate. Coriolanus wouldn’t put it past the woman if she already gave the inquiry out to one of her classes in a lecture hall.

“I vaguely do,”

His eyebrows rose in interest.

“But only in subtle feelings.”

Nevermind.

“I think I experienced some form of confusion. And bits of anger, too. Dr. Gaul… For a moment, I used to be so scared of her. Now, I can’t even remember the reason why.”

Project Prometheus’s indifference, Coriolanus realized, it was not just solely based on apathy. What had become of it was a blank state, unsure of how to process things so the mind refused to process it all. But, it was still something highly susceptible to influences, shown in how Project Prometheus had become conditioned like Pavolv Dog, to associate Dr. Gaul’s silence with anger and disappointment, and her socialness with satisfaction and joy. It all was dawning on him. He could see it now, why Dr. Gaul was so disturbingly fascinated by this project. Gloved hands moved away from the subject’s wrist, and reached out to lay in gentle manner against the side of their bare thighs. The subject allowed him to, never raising a sign of objection. Could he teach it to experience anger once more, when he treated their body like this? Maybe discomfort, disgust, despair - he wanted to show their blank canvas of a mind what it felt like to fully immerse themselves in these ugly emotions. He knew why they were like this, but there still was a lingering crumb of vexation directed at the subject. Somehow, in their newfound state, they still felt far more free than he ever did; how they almost felt nothing, and he had to feel everything.

And yet, there was another thought that touched him. He wondered, if he spent enough time with the subject, could he too, be able to condition them to other things. They thought of him as merciful, kind, in comparison to Dr. Gaul. Could he make Project Prometheus worship him, and in the same quiet breaths they were fond of, resent him? The thought of making them accustomed to anticipating his attendance, and lamenting his absence sounded tempting.

How nice it would be, to have someone other than a deranged crone enjoy his presence.

Tigris certainly didn’t anymore.

Coriolanus rose himself from the ground, gripping on the meat of Project’s Prometheus’s flesh to lift him. Under his touch, the pliant stretch of skin and tissue made the subject remove their hands from his shoulders. Another faint breath escaped their exhale. It was a sound he was slowly getting used to. Back to their original height difference, he no longer had to crane his head up to look at the subject. The subject had to lift their head up to look up at him, now. What did Project Prometheus see, in their gaze as they stared at him, Coriolanus thought. Was he too, consumed in shadow and bathed under the gritty lights of the examination room like they once had?

“We’re done with the mark-up.” It took him a moment to move away from the subject. “We’ll move to holding the nerve exam now, after I administer a low dosage of your medication.”

The uncapped, black marker was placed back down on the metal tray, aside from the examination table. Replacing its empty space was now the syringe he had filled out before, the dark color swishing as he picked it up. The needle gleamed under the fluorescent light. Turning his back around, Project Prometheus had already sat themselves up nicely on the edge of the examination table for him. Their legs dangled off, their hands held at the edges of the worn-out leather cushion, eyes fixated on his person. They were waiting for him. He’s almost bothered, how easily the subject could anticipate his next set of commands. He hoped that this was just due to routine, not because he had become easy to read. Coming up to meet them there, the only sound that filled the air was the sole of his shoes stepping against the tiles. Gloved fingers reached to grab at the jaw of Project Prometheus, the syringe held close to their face. It shone particularly brilliant, mere inches away from their face. The subject showed him no fear, no resistance, despite the way the skin of the cheeks had moved under his grasp.

Already, he wanted to break them.

“Show me where to inject you.”

He’d be sweet, Coriolanus would let them pick where it was most comfortable for him to inject the medication in. Project Prometheus complied immediately to him, holding on the hand that held their needle to adjust the position. They guided him to the back of their neck, moving their hair to make space. To reward their compliance, he pricked the syringe quickly under the skin, careful not to touch an artery or nerve. The dark liquid inside the barrel slowly filled out, emptying itself as he pushed the plunger down. The subject did not let out a sound, a favorable contrast to Livia, who waited for him outside these Citadel walls.

He was going to mold them into something useful.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #tbosas fic #thg series #thg fic #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #volumnia gaul #tw medical #medical horror #fanfic #.// ♡ basil's archive #. // ♡ rubatosis series #its insane how much i wrote for this first chapter lmao #its like 30 pages on google docs #i am obsessed with this man #i really wanted this chapter to be a focus of snow & reader building their dynamic and bond before we jump off the deep end #i am really excited to write the coming chapters

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yerimacoustic · 2 months ago

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𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮 ♡ jun x reader

❝ 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙞'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 ❞

summary : you find a sense of familiarity in your sworn rival, jun, while exchanging anonymous letters with a stranger .

content warnings : jun x female reader, regency era au, mostly inspired by you’ve got mail, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, more tags to come . teaser is 1.4k words, full fic tbd.

this is a teaser for a jun bug fic!! read full fic here i’m busy but i was so excited to get this out so i thought i’d post a little sneak peek. it’s probably history inaccurate bc idk shit i’m purely going off vibes

i’m trying to get a tag list going so lemme know if you want in!

the walk to the post office was not tedious by any means. not when the promise of a new response in the form of a handwritten letter prompted you to move quickly and lightly on your feet. it had become a weekly routine, early morning strolls to the post house, as well as an awfully great way to start the week.

the postmaster, otherwise known as your childhood friend, jeonghan, stood completely still behind the main counter with his arms folded across his chest. there was a knowing, mischievous glint in his eyes as he watched you quietly shut the door; he had been expecting you. just like he expected you every monday morning.

it wasn’t long before the brunette pulled a small envelope from the series of shelves behind him, gently dropping it onto the counter between the two of you. “here you go. your gentleman’s love letter awaits.”

“good day to you too, mr. yoon,” you teased him and grabbed the envelope, taking note of the familiar wax seal in the front. a neat scarlet red circle with a lion in the center- the familiar sight always managed to bring a smile to your face.

“hopefully he gives you some more clues as to his identity this week?” he called out to you as he strode across the tiny shop in favor of sweeping the floor. a look of feigned disappointment washed over his features as the sound of the bristles scratching across the floor and the envelope ripping open filled in the silence. “...perhaps not.”

just as your lips parted, the door swung open to reveal jeonghan’s assistant, karina. from the moment her eyes were fixed on yours, a mischievous glint akin to jeonghan’s filled her irises. “i thought i might find you here today. what news from the mysterious suitor?”

you shook your head before gesturing towards jeonghan, “i haven’t had the opportunity to read it yet. someone’s made sure of that.”

the man laughed from across the room, “it was never my attempt to keep you from reading it. i only wish that the two of you would at least give each other some hints as to who you really are.”

karina nodded in understanding before turning her back in favor of hanging her overcoat upon the rack near the entrance. “i hate to level with jeonghan in this case, but i’m curious about this mystery man, as well. have the two of you ever discussed meeting in person?”

“no, not at all. we’ve agreed to stay anonymous,” you explained as your fingers curled around the envelope in an almost protective grip. force of habit. “we know the risks but.. it’s quite refreshing, having someone to talk to without any of the societal pressures.”

before too long, jeonghan had finished tidying up and joined the two of you near the entrance. “i don’t understand. you both are clearly fond of each other..”

“who said anything about-”

“and you have a lot in common,” jeonghan mused, eyebrows raised. “in your next response, you should ask him something personal. ask him about his occupation.”

without skipping a beat, you shook your head in protest. “thank you for your unsolicited advice, jeonghan, but i know everything i need to know about this man. good day, my friends.”

you waved goodbye to the inseparable pair, stepping towards the small door. of course jeonghan, who always had to have the last word, called out to you before you could shut it completely, “except for his true identity!”

his words prompted your lips to twist into a smirk as you finally found the right opportunity to open the letter. as you unfolded the piece of parchment, your smirk slowly dissolved into a genuine smile, finding beautiful familiarity in the cursive penmanship. as you took cautious steps on the beaten path, you read the letter carefully:

‘this weekend i had the pleasure of accompanying my cousins as they vacationed in the countryside. they rent a small cottage near the ocean during the summertime and haven’t bothered to invite me until this year. i wish you could have seen it; it was perfectly quaint and tranquil. we spent all but the entirety of the seventy two hours walking along the beach and hunting for seashells. a bit of a juvenile hobby, i know.

i’m not sure where this inkling comes from, but something tells me you enjoy the oceanside. i bet you keep a collection of shells and pearls hidden somewhere in your home. or perhaps you proudly display them for your visitors to see. next time they permit me to join them near the beach again, remind me to fill this envelope with shells to add to your collection.

i know summer is your favorite holiday, and with that being said, i hope you find enjoyment in the final days of the season. take a stroll along the gardens or picnic with some of your friends.

take some time for yourself, my friend.’

–

jun waited three days for a reply, just as he did every week. he and his anonymous friend had fallen into a pattern of consistency, each of them sending a letter out to the other person once a week. even if he knew he could count on whoever this person was to send a timely response, his nerves got the best of him every time. the potential tone of the response occupied his thoughts at all times, keeping him up at night, keeping him from focusing intently on his work.

this week it reached the point where he had to turn his chair around to face the window, hoping that the sight of the rolling hills and graying sky outside would clear his mind. summer seemed to come to an end as quickly as it had begun, the entire season passing by in the blink of an eye. he counted his blessings, realizing that he was indeed lucky to have at least one holiday during the season. even if it was at the very end..

a knock on the door pulled him out of his trance and he turned his chair back to rest in the proper position, tucked tightly under his desk. “come in,” he called out.

barely a minute had passed before jun’s personal assistant and lifelong friend, wonwoo, closed the door quietly behind him and strode towards his desk with an envelope in hand. “your mystery woman sends her compliments,” he mused, handing the letter to jun.

jun’s eyes went wide. “you mean- you saw her??”

wonwoo shook his head, holding back an amused smirk as he watched the disappointment wash over jun’s features in real time. “no. my apologies.”

jun sighed, “just as well, i suppose. god only knows what chaos would unravel if anyone else in the household saw her.”

wonwoo nodded stiffly, folding his hands behind his back. “right you are. maybe there is practicality in anonymity, after all.”

“still, i can’t help but wonder what she’s really like in person,” jun mused, leaning back in his large leather chair with his chin cupped between his thumb and index finger. “there are so many habits and manners of hers i don’t even know about. she could be.. much lovelier in person.”

the bespectacled man tilted his head, taking a completely different approach, “or she could be ill-favored and poorly mannered.” the quiet statement was enough to pull jun out of his daze, causing him to furrow his eyebrows in annoyance. “my apologies.” he repeated.

“there is no possible way someone who writes so beautifully is as ill favored as you say.” jun disregarded the man in front of him as he began to tear the seal off of the envelope, a silent command for wonwoo to leave him alone. conveniently enough, the door gently slammed shut once jun finally unfolded the small sheet of parchment.

‘i am delighted to hear that you were able to enjoy the last remaining hours of the season with your family. the ocean sounds delightful. your suspicion of my enjoyment of seashells and pearls is a fair assumption, although, i gave up collecting a long time ago. hopefully you invest more stock in your collections than i did.

i’m afraid that i have no plans to take my leave before autumn begins as i’ve been much too busy. i don’t mind keeping an occupied schedule; it takes my mind off things and prevents me from overthinking. especially when i get the pleasure of meeting several people from different walks of life on a daily basis.

i know i say this every week, but it is always a pleasure receiving your letters. sometimes i can’t believe that we met through an anonymous literary discussion group. i’ve received a handful of letters from other attendees, but allow me to say that the discussions are utterly mundane compared to our conversations. it feels like i write to a friend i’ve known for years.

i eagerly await your reply, dear friend.

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echantedtoon · 4 months ago

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Ocean Deep Ch14 Mers And Ladies

(Warnings: Mentioning of killing/blood/murder/wounds/drowning/bloodloss, Y/n does have a stab wound but it's NOT serious and doesn't really affect her too much. Mentioning of yn being stabbed with a knife.

NOW SOME IMPORTANT INFO FOR THIS CHAPTER!! I have three things to announce.

Firstly just a quick recap of mer Tengen's design-

Tengen would be a white butterfly koi fish mer and would look like the linked post below except less eel and more butterfly koi also below.

Merman Tengen( minus the eel like features)

his tail would be more like this instead

Secondly the QnA from last chapter. If any questions are lumped together then it's because the same person asked more than one question.

*Is Y/n still alive?

Obviously yes. And she's ok.

*Do mers have jobs or just chill in the ocean? Is there a mer equivalent to the demon slayer corps? Is there a reason why the wives chose to go by Tengen's last names and not Rengoku's? Why does Rengoku still go by his own last name? Is polygamy more common among mers?

They just chill. No not really. Usually only the lady mers change their last names but this isn't always the case, but they love Tengen very much. Rengoku is still attached to his family name. Not really. Some mers are poly some aren't.

*How many chapters are left?

Im not sure. I already have the plot in mind, it's just a matter of writing it out.

*Was Tengen's parts near the end a flashback or happening in the moment?

In the moment. No flashbacks that chapter.

Thanks to everyone who asked questions! Now that's over with-

Thirdly, I made a small side story for Ocean Deep containing Mer Douma x Reader. The link for anyone who wants to read it is below I also read you can replace a pint of blood after donating it within 24 hours if this is inaccurate I apologize.

taglist: @six-eyed-samurai @lavenderdrxp @jjamsbangtan @camilo-uwu @hopefulworld1

@shadyd3ar @amypop122 @azuredragonstrike

@mimisweetz @chaoticoperatorduckhairdo @staarflowerr @aleee-386

Remember if you want to be added to the tag list lemme know.

"Leave her on the beach! Someone will find her or she'll wake up and go home herself!"

A voice..Male. Deeper. Different. Unfamiliar.

"We can't just abandon her! She's wounded! LOOK FOR YOURSELF!"

Pain. Numbness. Cold black closing in.

"....."

"Tengen, please."

"....Press down on the wound tightly. It's a long trip and if she's going to make it then she'll need all the blood she can keep in her body."

Where are you?

.. Everything is so dark.

What happened?

Why isn't there anything here?

We're you dead? Did you finally die? Is this what being dead was? Nothing but black abyss where you couldn't feel anything? ...It was ..oddly peaceful despite being so eerie.

"-likeliness to survive is guaranteed I'd say."

Huh? What was that? It sounded like the second half of a sentence you only just now noticed. Was there other spirits here with you?

"That's a relief. I was worried about the stab to her shoulder there. I do hope she's not too hurt."

"Don't worry yourself too much, Koyuki. It was a rather small blade and it only stabbed some fat and muscle. A few stitches and some rest will have her healed up within a few months!"

A small sigh of relief. "Oh thank goodness. I'm sure everyone will be relieved to hear that."

"How about you? How are you feeling today? That sudden fever came out of nowhere."

"I feel much better but Shinobu says I should stay in bed today."

"That's good. Did she wake up while we were gone?"

"No but she did move in her sleep."

"Ah. Good. That means she might wake up soon. I'll just take your temperature and leave you two to rest for a little while."

There was the sounds of retreating footsteps and maybe a door squeaking shut. Did the afterlife even have doors? You didn't get a chance before the world fell into unconscious again- The next time you regained consciousness, you opened your eyes only to blink suddenly as a harsh light beamed down on you. Was that the fabled tunnel? We're you going to heaven?! A few blinks more had the harsh light evening out into other less harsh colors of browns and beige. You didn't know heaven had an oak ceiling-...

Wait. Ceiling?

F/c eyes blinked and eyebrows scrunched in confusion as your vision ever so slowly unblurred and you found yourself staring at an oakwood ceiling. There was silence as you continued to stare at it for the longest time.. before your head tilted to the right. The light source was discovered in the form of an open window. The sight of a calm blue sky and fluffy white clouds greeted you and a nice warm breeze bringing the smell of the salty ocean came through...Wait. This wasn't the beach. Could it be-??

Your eyes shifted down to your body and you only now felt the soft warmth hugging your body. Clean sheets covered your body as you lied upon your futon and a nice thick and warm blue blanket covered you from your feet to your neck. You were..in bed?? Could it be that this entire thing was just a dream? Only a silly dream about mermaids and jewelry and Akira that felt like it lasted for months but was really only a night or two?

Slowly you willed your arm to move. Your right arm pushed up, up, up. You felt heavy, sluggish, and every movement was a pins and needles tingling feeling. The blue blanket fell away partially as your hand extended to the ceiling and wriggled all five fingers. Your other hand went to do the same thing-

UNTIL A WHITE HOT PAIN SHOT FROM YOUR SHOULDER AND DOWN YOUR SPINE-!!!

"AH!!"

You couldn't help but cry out from the sudden throbbing pain that shot from your shoulder and throughout your body. It was a burning throbbing pain that pulsed out from just behind your left shoulder. Your teeth gritted as you hissed, body contorting in pain and then there was a sharp gasp-

...Wait. That wasn't from you.

Your head turned to the left in the direction of the sound and froze as two pairs of eyes met. A pair of pretty cherry blossom pink eyes and equally shaped pretty white flower shaped pupils stared down at your confused orbs. For a moment there was nothing but silence as your brain processed the other person in the room looking at you- Before she jumped as your body moved quickly.

Pink eyes blinked watching the other woman quickly flip onto her right side and struggle to push herself up onto numb arms and legs. "W-Wait! Don't do that! You'll hurt yourself!"

The other paid no mind to her warnings as she proceeded to crawl like a rapid animal desperate to get away from here. Falling onto her face after getting entangled in the sheets and letting out a yelp of pain. A rush of adrenaline shot up into your veins as you forced yourself back up and, although probably looking ridiculous, you crawled desperately for the door despite the emense pain in your shoulder and how tingly and weak your limbs were.

"Please stop! You're making it worse!"

Ignored. A desperate churning voice pounded at your skull. Run! Run! Run! Get out! Get away! It shouted that over and over, and like a scared injured rabbit you obeyed that. Legs unready for walking were forced up- only for you to fall back onto them with a thud.

"Shinobu! Kanae! Somebody help!"

More people?! SCREW THIS!! In some adrenaline fueled strength, somehow your foggy mind was able to get up onto your legs shaking uncontrollably like you were a bare in a blizzard! You ran! Throwing yourself at the door and throwing it open with a slide! A loud thudding sound reverberated throughout the hall and room as you threw yourself out- Only to collide almost collide into someone carrying a bowl. The pink haired girl squealed as you knocked into her, knocking the bowl of soup outta her hands. The distant sounds of spilling liquids filled the air behind you as your body collided with a wall so wobbly and unstable that you fell over onto your stomach. If your head wasn't blank from the pain, you might've heard the thud of the bowl and the clattering of a spoon somewhere behind you. Scrambling, clawing at the floorboards, and crawling like a desperate animal just turned free you carried on. Looking like a crazy person. Freedom! Freedom! To freedom you nearly were-

Until hands grabbed you.

You squealed out as two pairs of hands grabbed you by the arms on either side of your body and pulled you backwards and away from the door with a window in the middle showing the outside world and your near freedom.

"Fast one aren't you?"

"LET ME GO!," you shrieked kicking out weakly no avail.

Whoever it was was physically stronger as you were dragged across the floor back towards the room, and you were too physically weak to fight them off. Your shoulder still throbbed in pain but that didn't stop whoever they were from pulling you back into the room past the pink haired girl who tilted her head and looked worried with a hand to her face. You cursed pushing and pulling until you were plopped down onto something soft and you were finally released, falling backwards onto the soft bed- Your body said screw it and pushed yourself back up to snarl at your captors-...Only to be taken aback by what..Or better yet WHO who saw surrounding you.

LADIES!!

There was five other women in here staring at you. And all of them were fairly beautiful. There was the girl still sitting in the futon a few feet away from you, her long black hair flowing around her nightgown and an open book she had presumably been reading open wide on her lap. A second figure was worriedly shifting from one foot to the other looking the most worried and had long pink braids that faded to a lime green at the ends. But the two you REALLY noticed was the two looming over you. The one to the right was the most beautiful. Pretty pink eyes, tall, and long black hair that swayed when she tilted her smile at you. The second one was more around your height, and just as pretty with black hair with purple ends pinned up and lavender orbs gazing down at you. She also wore a smile but it looked more..blank than the first one. And then finally you caught a fifth person's gaze. Young. So young that she could've been your little sister if your parents had anyone children. She peeked around the doorframe curiously with pink eyes a similar shade to the tall girl but in design more to the purple eyed one. All three having a similar facial structure.

You stared at everyone around you bewildered before scowling. "Look- Just take what you want!" You held up a hand. "I don't have anything valuable on me anyways! Just let me go and I promise you I won't tell anyone!" The two smiling people exchanged looks above you. "I'm not worth the trouble anyways!"

There was a moment of silence still before Ms. Tall-With-Pink-Eyes chuckled holding a hand to her face. "I think she's mixing up the situation as something else."

"Well can you blame her with what she went through last night?," Ms. Lavender Eyes answered back before they both looked at you again. "I think we got off om the wrong foot." You jumped as with without warning she grabbed your eye forcing it more open as she peered at you. "Her eyes aren't clouded so that must mean she's completely lucid. Are you feeling light headed or anything similar?"

"Ow. " You pulled away from her shaking your head and scowling. "Just who are you people!? Where am I?!" Obviously you weren't home and you weren't on any beach. So where was this place?

"Forgive us. You must be very confused." Ms. Tall-With-Pink-Eyes spoke again before Ms. Lavender Eyes moved beside you. "I'm Kanae and that's my sister." She gestured to said sister who picked up your wrist to feel for a pulse as you were distracted. "You're here because you were hurt. Do you remember anything about what happened last night?"

"Last..night?"

She nodded as her sister went to your back. "Don't push yourself if you can't but can you tell us if you do remember what happened?"

Your eyes blinked. Mind going off in thought. What did happen last night? ..You remembered arriving at the beach- "I..remember the beach. It was so big and full of wreckage." Just thinking about all of those broken ships, some being where the men of your village spent their last living moments, sent chills down your spine. "And it was just turning sunset." You remembered how beautiful it was. You've never seen the sun make water sparkle like that. "Then I-" You opened your mouth but quickly stopped and closed it.

YOU COULDN'T TELL THEM YOU WERE HELPING MERMAIDS!! They might think you were crazy or having bad hallucinations! Or they might turn on you for helping nonhuman creatures!

"I was...releasing some fish back into the ocean I didn't want," you settled on. Technically it was the truth. Mermaids were part fish after all. "And then-"

You fell silent once more. A rock settling in your stomach. Akira. Knife. Stabbing. Everything going black!

"Akira!" The women jumped as you looked around wildly. Fear etched into your features. But there was no man amongst the women still amongst you. "Where is he?! H-He was on the docks with me when I passed out!"

"The man who stabbed you?" You flinched at Ms. Lavender Eye's blunt tone but she waved you off pulling the back of your collar to peek at your back. "..Hmm. The bandages are still clean and tied. I don't think she tore any stitches from her earlier stunt."

Your head craned behind you to raise a brow at her. "Stitches?"

She nodded. "You're extremely lucky! Your wound isn't very large or deep despite requiring stitches. You should be fully healed in two maybe three months. Obviously whoever tried to harm you was stupid in his selection of weapons!"

....You didn't know whether she was being serious or sarcastic with the bluntness of her words but you did frown. "Well thank goodness for that. I was worried about the size of knife that nearly killed me! Thank goodness for stupidity." Your eyes rolled. "But that still doesn't answer my questions. Who are you people and where am I?"

"Forgive us." Kanae(why does that name sound familiar?) smiled wider at you. Maybe to try to comfort you? "You're on an island a few miles off the coast you described. You were brought here by a few friends to have your wounds treated." She held up her hands. "But don't worry. As long as you take it easy, your wound shall heal in the timeframe my sister described." Well that's a relief. "However you lost some blood."

The blood drained from your face. "How..much?"

"About a pint I'd say. Don't worry. Usually the human body replaces that amount within twenty four hours but I want you to rest for at least two or three days before you try walking just in case."

"Oh...Will I be able to walk normally then?"

"Certainly."

You gave a sigh of relief. "Good. Then I can finally be able to go home." Kanae lost her smile for a moment giving a glance at her sister. "Then who are the rest of you?" You gave another look around the room. The other girl in bed was dressed a similar way to you in white nightgowns. We're you in a hospital? "Is she a patient too?"

"Oh. How rude of me. That's Koyuki. She's just running a fever. She's Shinobu, Mitsuri, and that is our younger sister in the doorway." Kanae pointed at each person as she told you their names with a smile. Mitsuri? Shinobu? Kanae? Koyuki? Why did all of their names sound familiar to you? You blinked as the blue blanket was pulled back up your body by Kanae. "Your body needs rest. Try to get comfortable and we'll bring you some food. You'll be needing lots of liquids and try to relax. Ok?"

You didn't know what to think really as you were made to lay back down and watched as they left. Where were you? Where was Akira? Where were your friends? We're they ok?....Your brain answered two of the four questions. Your friends are back in the ocean now safe and sound at last where they should be. By now they were probably already far away from here reuniting with Tengen(whoever he was) and they'd all be happy again.

...

A tiny smile formed on your face at the thought. It didn't matter if you were hurt. Your mission was successful and over with. Your friends were safe and home at last, you were no longer baring any burdens, and you were alive. Even if your current state was less than ideal, you didn't have to worry about anything else. Finally after so many months, the best kind of relief filled your body and you allowed yourself to relax. There was still the matter of Akira ..and Niko's horse but you'd happily deal with both of those later. With any luck the ships will be spared now and things could go back to the ways they were. Maybe people could even move back to town!

Oh how fate loved to throw boulders at you.

The Mitsuri girl had stayed to clean up the soup you made her spill (oops) and then two of the three sisters returned carrying trays of more soup. Kanae and her younger pinked eyed sister. The young girl couldn't have been older than fifteen or sixteen years tops. Both you and Koyuki had been given this crab soup and something dawned on you. The spoon lifted to your face but never touched your face as you froze up staring wide eyed. Footsteps softly thudded towards the doorway on their way ou-

"Kanae Kocho."

The footsteps stopped just shy of the doorway, back to the f/c eyes that now looked at her in familiarity.

"You're Kanae Kocho aren't you?! And your sisters are the same ones that disappeared last year!"

The realization had finally struck you. THESE REALLY ARE THE KOCHO SISTERS!! They'd disappeared last year and vanished without a trace! You weren't particularly close to the Kocho family but being in the same town you'd see them walking around from time to time. It just took you a while to recognize them!

"And you got kidnapped the year before that!," you accused pointing at Mitsuri who only blinked, "And you're the girl that was rumored to have drowned two years ago!" Koyuki blinked at the pointing hand. "What are you all doing here?! Don't you know your families are worried sick about you all?! What gives?! How did you escape that Naga?! Did you all just fake your deaths or something?!"

You couldn't help the rapid firing of questions that left your mouth under the mountain of realizations. These girls were apparently alive, not dead, and seemed in your point of view to be doing so well for themselves. What the hell gives?! No one answered. Giving you wide eyed silent stares until Kanae turned to you still with that smile which had now turned sad.

"Get some rest. Everything will be answered in time."

You were left just like that. Left with the weird sea food tasting soup to eat and with more questions than answers.

...

WHAT THE ACTUALLY HELL WAS GOING ON HERE?!

First all these girls disappear, then a couple merman destroy your town and way of life, then a merman shows up, then you get wrapped up in kidnapped mermaid drama, then you get stabbed while releasing said mermaids, and now the girls that are supposed to be dead... Aren't dead??? Just what the world did you get yourself into!? It was like just when you got yourself out of one mystery you fall into another! You tried talking to the other two remaining girls but Koyuki didn't say anything and Mitsuri squeaked out some excuse to leave quickly. It almost felt like you were back to square one... Y'know what? It's fine. If they ran away from home then that wasn't any of your business but you'd send some anonymous letters to the families (if you could find them) and let them sort this out. You didn't think they deserved to believe their daughters were dead.

You had enough things to worry about without getting involved into anymore drama.

Like getting back home and getting your life back in order. So you didn't mention anything about disappearing or mermaids for the rest of that day, and the next day either. Shinobu had shown up to look over yourself again and you only remained polite and short.

"Do you feel better today?", she asked you.

"Yes. Thank you ..And sorry about yesterday."

"Don't worry about it. I'd act the same way if I was you. Any pain or numbness?"

"Only in my shoulder."

That was it. Only a few sentences before she left again and you were left in bed to rest with nothing but more of that fish tasting soup to eat. You get that they wanted you to have more liquids but couldn't they at least give you better tasting soup?

You couldn't take it the third day. You awoke pretty early in the morning, in fact the sun was barely even up when you woke. Taking a moment you stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before glancing over to Koyuki. She was fast asleep softly snoring and turned away from you.. Everyone else was probably most likely still asleep this early as well.

NOW WAS YOUR CHANCE!

Slowly the blankets was peeled off your body and in the same manner as two days ago, you rolled onto your unhurt side to push up onto your hands and knees. Biting your tongue to not groan in pain that still lingered. Hurt or not you were leaving. You had done your duties, now you could just move on and never look back! Ever so slowly you pushed yourself to your feet which were still a bit wobbly but not as bad as it was two days ago. You should be able to walk now though if you went by what Kanae said. Tip toeing your way over, you slowly slid the door open only looking behind you once to make sure Koyuki was still fast asleep before popping your head into the hallway. It was quiet and no one else was around.

AND THE DOOR TO FREEDOM WAS STILL THERE DOWN THE HALL.

You slowly stepped out into the hall closing the door back behind you quietly. You still couldn't run with your wobbly legs so you instead wobble walked down the hall quietly and made for the door. You had a head start! If you hurried then you'd be able to get away without anyone noticing that you were missing. The front door was upon you. It slid open. You stepped out and quickly slid it back shut. You turned around-

AND THEN YOU WERE MET WITH THE OCEAN!

You stopped stunned by the long stretch of sandy beach only stopping when it collided with lazy waves rolling over the soft sand and wetting any shells under it. The silence was only broken by said waves and the soft footfalls of your feet taking a few steps in the squishy sand. The wind blew send stands of your messy hair flowing about and the hem of your long nightgown flowing. A few seagulls cried out in the distance excited to have some food and leaving you to stare.

"...Where am I?"

F/c orbs scanned the horizon where the sunrise was rising from the horizon. Nothing but blue water was in every direction you looked in. Not a sign of other land anywhere!...You were probably taking further down the beach! There wasn't any wreckage so that must mean you were taken further away from the docks. So if you just started walking then you'd soon come back to the graveyard of ships! Perfect! You hoped the horse was still windering where you left it. With a breath you began walking along the sandy shore and away from the house to get away before they could wake you up and drag you back to the room again.

So you walked. Wobbly along but you walked. And walked. And walked.

YOU DIDN'T SEE THE RED EYES WATCHING YOUR EVERY MOVE OR THE WHITE MASS UNDER THE WAVES FOLLOWING YOU.

Slowly the sun rose higher and higher in the sky making it warmer and brighter. Huh. You knew the coast was really big by the stories the fishermen told but you wondered how far up the beach they took you. Your right side was nothing but beach and ocean. Your left tropical forest you didn't want to go explore. The house was out of sight now, but you couldn't tell exactly how far away you were from it.

"I'm starting to get beat."

Your body still might've not have been fully recovered because you were quickly getting tired with the want to rest. You usually could go on for longer but you were in condition to fight your body's limits. So you stopped and looked around. There wasn't anywhere in sight that could be a suitable place to sit down and rest, until you spotted a large flat rock leading off the shore and into the water a little bit. The waves sloshing on the sides but not wetting the top. Seemed like a good of a place as any to sit down that wasn't in danger of sharp seashells or whatever dangerous animals might be in the unknown woods behind you. But it was smack dab in sight for all to see.

"..Ten minutes," you told yourself tiredly wobbling towards it, "It's only for just ten minutes. Then I'm leaving."

The squishy sand laced with sharp shells scraped under your tired legs soon replaced by warm but smooth rock as you stepped onto the flat stone and sighed. It felt nice. Magenta eyes watched the way you smiled beautifully at your feet and stepped further to the edge of the rock. Drifting closer the eyes came as she slowly lowered until she sat down submerging her legs to the knees and sighing in the relief the cool water gave her sore body. The bottom of her nightgown bunched up just above her kneecaps. A giggle escaping her as the waves rolled over her skin. She looked pretty.

You sighed in the relief your legs were currently getting hugged by the water. "This feels nice. It's too bad my shoulder is killing me."

Bubbles streaming to the surface got closer and closer to you as a white mass got closer and closer until a webbed hand silently reached out to grab the ledge of the rock behind you-

"Ah!" You hissed and gently reached a hand behind you to gentle rub your shoulder with a wince.

"Back pain? I hate that."

"Tell me about it. So annoying."

"I know right?"

"Yes."

"......"

A GLASS SHATTERING SOUND WENT OFF IN YOUR MIND.

Your eyes comically went wide as an owl's as you froze. ...And then you slowly turned around. A man with red wine eyes and white hair was staring at you from the Water's edge.

"Hey."

You squealed leaning back- S P LA S H!!

"SHIT!"

He cried out when her form disappeared under the waves and a second later he dove right back under after her. Silence claimed the area once more before you broke the surface of the Water gasping and clawing at the stone for dear life like a drowning cat desperately pulling yourself up with help from two large hands pushing you up by the waist. Scrambling and crawling onto the once nice dry rock spitting out nasty too salty water before coughing and hacking.

"'Eeehhh. Not really the flashy introduction I was hoping for."

You looked back up and yelped as a head was poking out of the water right in front of you. "Don't fall in again!" It- He shouted with an annoyed frown. "That's how you weak humans drown!"

"Wh-Who the hell are you?!" You leaned back leaning an arm up in case you had to defend yourself.

"You don't recognize me! I literally saved you like three days ago! Do humans really have that bad of a memory or what?!", he barked.

....Now you scowled. "Now see here you overgrown sea mule!" The man whoever he was blinked once taken aback by the sudden scowl and bite you gave him. "I'm too dam tired to be talked to like a brainless rock! I've been drained, stressed out my dam mind, attacked, and nearly drowned TWICE now! The last thing I need right now is the ocean equivalent of a donkey shit talking me! If you want to bother someone, go find a shark to antagonize!"

The man blinked once. Twice. Before he slowly hummed looking you up and down all drenched like a wet cat. "Well...The weren't wrong when they said you were certainly different."

"They? Just who are you?"

He hummed again crossing his arms over the rock's edge. "I thought you already knew...but then again you never met me personally and when we did you were already passed out." A giant smile of ABSOLUTELY LARGE FANGS made you give pause and gulp. "Allow me to actually give you a flashy introduction worthy of my status!"

Two clawed hands dug themselves into the rock and your jaw dropped in fear as an absolutely massive body hauled itself out of the water and onto the rock. A large shadow loomed over you.

He was-..massive!

Even larger than freaking KYOJURO!! And Kyo was bigger than Akira! A body beautiful sculpted by rippling muscles and scars sat itself upon the rock. Scattered purple scales glistening with water droplets aligned in a strange pattern you've never seen on any other mer across the torso and around the waist where his human half blended into a absolutely BEAUTIFUL shimmering white koi tail similar to Makio's only BIGGER and SHINIER! A rainbow pearlescent effect it had has the light bounced off his large koi tail. The fins large and flowing in the water like the fabric of beautiful silk in the wind. But that wasn't all.

A small jingling noise arose with him. The source being from the hoops dangling from his wrists. However you didn't notice that. Only the strange Mitch match of green and red sharp claws sticking out from hands large enough to crush you. Larger golden bands were tightly wrapped around his upper forearms as he flexed them out to you. But the thing was-

HE WAS ABSOLUTELY ADORNED IN JEWELS!!

A series of golden earrings were embedded into his ears, a similar piercing on his bottom lip. Across his forehead was some kind of large silver headband with three beautiful glimmering large diamonds in the front. Remember how Kyojuro's hands had a few rings? Well this guy had LOTS of rings! Some fingers having more than one on them. A long strand of shiny silver rocks clinked together and dangled from his headband. At least three different necklaces were wrapped around his neck with different valuable stones. Down his sculpted figure was a few various chains with a thick single silver one wrapped around his middle with a few polished seashells dangling from it's heavy bulk. But what really stood out was the large red and dark pink polished gems and stones pushed into his scales and embedded permanently into himself. The piercing wine red eyes crinkled up half lidded in a wide fanged smile at you- Holy shit! THOSE FANGS WERE LARGER THAN KYOJURO'S! His pure white hair falling down framing his face and for some reason a strange red birthmark over his right eye.

"I am Lord Tengen Uzui of the Western Isles! But you can call me Lord Tengen! And you have the honor of being in the presence of the God of Ocean's Deep!," he loudly announced out. Bold, assertive, and powerful enough to be feared by all who see him!

You only stared at him wide eyed. Holy shit...HE WAS BEAUTIFUL-!!

You immediately shook your head chasing away any of those thoughts. "...I don't believe it."

"Heh. Having a moment processing my flamboyant stature are you?"

"No. I can't believe the person responsible for half of my suffering is an over dressed full of himself watered down peacock."

"WHAT?!," he shouted turning towards your deadpanned face. "I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT I'M THE MOST FLASHY AND STRONGEST MER THIS SIDE OF THE WEST COAST!!" He shouted in your face pointing a sharp red nail at your face, the bracelets around his wrists jingling with his movements.

".....I still don't see it. How'd you manage to beach all those ships? Flex and blind the captains with your over dressed scales?"

"HAVE SOME RESPECT FOR ME, GIRLIE!! I SAVED YOUR LIFE!!

"Right.." You glanced at the claw pointed at you, and then his large fangs as he gritted his teeth together annoyed. ..And just remembered how much bigger he was than you. On second thought it probably wasn't a good idea to argue with the guy that caused so much damage single handedly. You sighed with a breath. "Right. ..You did do that. Thanks for that." He huffed a sound. "No. I mean it. Thank you. And I'm sorry for being rude earlier. I'm just really on edge lately. A lot of bad stuff has happened recently."

"I've been told." He still looked and sounded annoyed but leaned back up from where he was sitting and recrossed his arms making his biceps and arms flex automatically. ".... You're going to live?"

It was a statement but the way he said it sounded like a question so you nodded. "Yes. I was told my shoulder isn't serious and it'll heal within a few months. I can live with that."

He hummed again. "I guess it's a good thing I got to you when I did then."

"Yes. Yes...So.. You're the famous Tengen Uzui I've heard so much about?" You took a moment to glance over this mountain of a man again. If he was human you estimated he'd he OVER six feet tall. "You're certainly a lot taller than I expected."

..That smile from before was back. "In the flashy flesh!" He winked and shot a one handed finger gun at you which in turn made you giggle. "And you must be Y/n. My wives' told me all about you."

"Ah. You mean Hinatsuru?"

"And Makio and Suma. And apparently Kyojuro.." His gaze peered off for a second. "He told me that you saved him after he stopped breathing. Is that true? Did he stop.. living?"

He was asking you about this now? You tilted his gaze to try to see his eyes but they were firmly set to where his tail met the water. "No. He never stopped living really." The eyes looked back to you. "He just needed a helping hand is all. So did everyone apparently...Are they alright now?"

He slowly nodded. "Yeah. Yeah they're fine." Both arms raised to hold the behind of his head. "They're all still asleep or just waking up by now. I know Suma is probably still sleeping in." He chuckled at nothing dryly. "It's so surreal to have them all back."

"I'm just glad they're alright. I can't imagine what you all went through was anything but terrifying."

"Tell me about it. You have no idea what it's like having every person you love tipped away from you with there being nothing you can do to prevent it. Never knowing what's happening to them or where they are." ... His eyes narrowed down at nothing. "Knowing if they were dead or alive."

"... You're right."

Tengen paused. Blinking. "What?" He looked at you arms falling to his sides. "What did you say?"

"I said-.. You're right." F/c eyes looked away guiltily from him. "You're right. I don't know what it's like to lose family, at least not in the way you did and Kyojuro did. ..My parents died when I was really young but there's a big difference between loosing someone to natural causes and loosing someone to someone's else's own selfish intentions. If my loved ones were kidnapped by someone and taken somewhere I could never get to-...I would have probably felt the same unbridled anger and fear you must've had." ...You looked up at him after he remained silent and found him staring at you with an absolutely shocked expression. "Um..Did I say something wrong?"

Tengen slowly shook his head no. "I-..N-No. it's not that. I-I-...Well to be perfectly honest with you I was actually waiting for you to start cursing me and tearing me apart with what happened to your life."

You blinked. "Oh. I guess they really did tell you everything about me huh?"

He nodded. "Yep. Completely everything. We're very honest with one another. I don't believe in keeping secrets from one another."

Oh gods. If they told him about the effects his actions had on your town and everyone's livelihoods- Then did that mean they literally told him about them kissing you?! And Kyojuro proposing?! And- Oh god. You hoped Kyojuro didn't tell him that-

"So.." A cheeky smirk crossed his face. Leaning closer to your reddening face. "Do all women have this magical power of medical kissing?~"

"UUUUUUGGGHHH!!" You shouted into the open air making him burst into loud laughter as you raised your hands and loudly facepalmed. "FOR THE LAST TIME! IT! WASN'T! A! KISS!! IT'S C! P! R! IT'S A MEDICAL TECHNIQUE EVERYONE IN MY TOWN WAS TAUGHT!"

"Ooh.~ A secret excuse for kissing your neighbors. How flashy.~"

Your madly blushing face snapped to him. "ONE MORE JOKE AND I'LL TURN YOU INTO FISH BAIT!!"

"HAHAHAHAHA!!" His loud laugh and large smile made the seemingly narcissistic personality and the scary persona before that seemed non existent. Melting to a joyful painting that had tears forming at the corners of his eyes. "I wouldn't expect anything less! You certainly exceeded my expectations of you."

"Well..Who did you expect me to be?" You changed the topic feeling your face burning up.

He shrugged still chuckling and shoulders shaking. "Well..I know I wasn't expecting an innocent angel, not with your attitude. But I also wasn't expecting you to literally agree with what I had done so easily."

"I don't agree with what you did." He blinked as you held up a hand. "Not fully. I said I understand why you did what you did and I can sympathize with everyone of you, but I can't forget the damage it caused everyone who wasn't responsible for what you all went through. I DON'T!!" You quickly held up a hand when he opened his mouth. "Blame you. I really don't. But I can say what you did didn't just affect me either."

.. Tengen slowly closed his mouth letting a sigh through his nose. "You-..Have that right, and I can't deny you're right. But you sound almost guilty."

You blinked surprised. "You can tell?"

"I have very good hearing. Sounds and tones tell me a lot. It's how I heard you leaving the house you were in." Ah. That explained the sudden appearance. "Is there a reason to that?"

"I-..*sigh* I dunno. I guess I feel guilty because I did kinda blame you for a lot of what happened for a while but-..I don't know." Your hand held your head again. "A lot of things have been complicated for a long time."

"I- Yeah. I know that feeling."

Silence followed. Nothing but the soft waves sloshing on the shore and a few seagulls cawing in the distance.

"...So why did you follow me?" You peered at him from the corner of your eyes. "You said you followed me from that house."

He shrugged. "Curious about ya I guess. And if I'm being a bit honest, I wanted to be sure they weren't being tricked by anyone. No offense."

"With what you went through it's understandable. I'd do that to if I was you."

"There was another reason why I followed you though. Well two reasons really."

Oh? You turned raising a brow. "Really? And what are those reasons?"

"Well Firstly I wanted to see if you were ok or not. I was told you were fine by those girls-" Wait. Tengen knew Kanae and the others? "-but I had to see for myself. The second reason was to thank you."

"Huh? Thank me? For what?"

"Everything. You willingly put yourself in danger for someone who wasn't even the same species. Do you know how many humans would literally do that willingly? Humans are selfish creatures who-" He paused as your brow rose higher. "Uh- *AHEM!* I mean the bad humans are selfish creatures."

"Nice save."

"I'm serious though. Every human I encountered would've never done something like that. So..Why did you get involved?"

You took a moment to pause. "..I don't really know. I guess it's because it was wrong? Maybe because I would've felt guilty if I didn't do anything? I don't know for sure but in the end it was the right choice wasn't it? I mean-" You gestured to him. "You're all back together and alright. That's what matters."

"Right, right. ...But what happened to you-"

"Wasn't your fault. Sure what you did had an effect on my life but none of this would've happened at all if those people didn't kidnap your wives. You were just trying to get them back. Maybe not the way I'd go about it but again I'm not you."

"Right. So is this the part where I apologize for everything or do humans do the whole emotional talking first?"

You snorted. A smile on your face before you turned to him again. "How about we both just forgive each other and call it even?"

He smiled wider. "Thank Posidon. I thought I'd have to spill every emotion I feel before we get here." You chuckled more. "Seriously however. I am grateful for what you did. Don't think I can repay you for that."

"Actually you can." His head tilted interested. "Don't sink anymore ships and we'll call it even. Alright?"

..Tengen smiled widely. "You got it. I don't think I have any more reason for that anyways."

Relief filled you. At least that was over with..You blinked at something the two of you hadn't noticed. Tengen blinked as you slowly got up and a hand gently grabbed the side of his face so gently. A second later a wet sleeve ran over the underside of his eyes.

"You're crying. Here. You'll be fine now..Sorry if it's not dry. Water will do that to you."

He didn't say anything. Only staring wide eyed at nothing until you backed away from him..and a hand slowly touched his cheek where your hand had previously been.

"Now then." You placed your hands on your hips and looked around. You've been walking for at least an hour now and there was still no sign of where you first started out from. "Can you tell me how far it is back to the docks?"

Tengen stared wide eyed at your form-

"Tengen."

"Huh? W-What?"

"I asked how much farther do I have to walk before I reach the docks again. I've been walking for at least an hour now."

He blinked again before looking confused. "Docks? You're not on the west coast anymore."

You stared at him. "...Beg pardon?"

"You're in my territory. This island here." A hand patted the rock you both stood on. "This is mine. So are the other two islands off the coast and the coast I claimed during my skirmish there."

You stared at him wide eyed. "Wait..Are you saying that Im actually stuck on a deserted island?"

"It's not deserted! Everyone's mates live up in the house there. That's why you were brought here. It has everything you need to stay."

You continued to stare at him. "...WHAT?!"

89 notes · View notes

megamindsecretlair · 1 year ago

Text

One Track Mind

Pairing: Kane x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Use of n-word. Smut, PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving), size kink, hella dirty talk, begging, all consensual. Daddy kink. Toxic smut. Established relationship.

Summary: You were tired of listening to Kane's lies. You were sick of coming home to a chaotic house. You're mad with Kane and he has to set some things straight.

Word Count: 3,244k

A/N: Kane had to go on and say something that left me feral as hell! Enjoy my rotten brain. This had me sweating! Lemme go on and cool down. Ya'll can thank @planetblaque for this! It was written in a daze so all mistakes are mine. All arguments should be settled like this, just saying!!! Enjoy if you do too! Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I block ageless blogs.

Taglist: @browngirldominion

You entered your home to the sound of niggas cheering at the TV. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, hanging your head down low at the thought of these mu’fuckas again in your goddamn house.

It was a never ending circus of clown niggas in your home, eating your shit, laughing and farting. It was revolting. You came in and slammed the door. Kane and his little friends barely acknowledged you.

You walked past the TV. Kane sat in the recliner by the arch way. He caught your hand as you passed by. Brought it to his lips and placed a small kiss there. “No kisses for me?” He asked and looked you up and down.

Too annoyed to be flattered, you yanked your hand out of his. “I’m sick of this shit, Kane,” you said.

It was bad enough that he made you move down here after his bid. You hated it down here. Fake ass slice of paradise. There was always mu’fuckas running in and out of your house like you were a group home. Then it got shot up not too long ago and you were still finding debris on your floor.

Kane rolled his eyes and sighed. He turned his attention back to the TV. You’d had this argument a dozen times. And he was gon’ hear it a dozen more. You walked into the kitchen to unload the few groceries you could manage. You did not want to keep shopping for these niggas. Maybe if the food dried up, they’d clear out.

Finished, you walked past the living room. Kane stopped you once more. You snatched your hand away with a tiny slap against his wrist. His hand gripped your wrist, squeezing a bit. “Now that’s the second time you don’ walked past me with no kisses,” he said.

“Let me go,” you hissed at him. His little friends got quiet. You leaned into Kane’s face and leveled him with a stare. “Let. Me. Go.”

Kane stared at you back. Smoke from his joint wafted into your face. The TV blared on and on about some commercials.

Kane smirked and let you go. You whirled around and headed straight for your room. It was decorated in your favorite color with a complimentary trim on the bottom. You turned on the light and closed the door behind you.

You were still so fucking mad. You couldn’t walk around your house in your panties anymore. There was always someone around, always someone sniffing up under Kane’s balls. You liked the money as much as the next person, but you did not sign up for this shit.

You turned on the TV, flipping the switch on the big box, and walked over to the closet. You stripped out of your work clothes, hanging them up. You climbed into bed in one of Kane’s shirts and laid across the top of the bed. You pulled a pillow over and hung your head on it.

A moment later, the door opened. No knock. “What the fuck?” You yelled out, scrambling to cover yourself.

“You know I’m the only nigga that don’t knock around here,” Kane’s raspy voice said. Inwardly, you melted. His voice was like running your fingers across violin strings. Your thighs tingled just hearing it.

“Go away, Kane.” You settled back on the bed. Fuck ass nigga.

“Fuck is this about?” Kane crossed the room with his slow gait. He leaned against the dresser next to the TV. He leaned forward, his arms scraping his legs. “Fuck with the attitude?”

“I want these niggas out of my house. I’ve been sayin’ that shit to you,” you snapped.

The tattoo above Kane’s eye twitched as he raised his eyebrow. You stared at him. “You bold as hell today,” he said.

“I am sick of these mu’fuckas in my house. When we came down here, you promised shit would be different. You promised that I’d have my privacy. That this wouldn’t touch me,” you said.

“Baby, I told you things were going on that required extra security. These little niggas are ruthless. There’s no respect,” he said.

“You and your fuckin’ code,” you said and rolled your eyes. When he was in a mood, he liked to go on and on about the game. That too many OGs got killed or put in jail. Leaving too many little Black boys to run along with their own rules. No one to rein them in.

When he got like that, you tuned out and hoped it wouldn’t last all night.

“Code is what keeps us safe,” he said.

“Whatever, Kane. Go away,” you said. You weren’t in the mood for an argument. You turned your eyes to the TV, letting the soft light lull you away.

Rough hands grabbed you by the ankles and yanked. You screamed, nails sliding against the covers looking for an anchor. Kane’s hands rubbed and squeezed on your booty, scrunching the meat in his hands.

A breath escaped you, close to a moan but you held it back. “Kane, what the fuck!” You yelled. You tried to hold onto your anger, but when his hands were on you like this your brain turned to mush. It was like he had you trained to his hands, to his voice. One look, one sigh, and it had you on your knees ready to do whatever he wanted.

Kane ran his finger beneath the center of your panties, his finger lightly rubbing your pussy and clit. You bit your lip, hard, fighting to keep down the rising moan. The urge to arch your back and forgive him.

“Fuck this, Kane. Get them niggas out of my house,” you yelled.

“You forget who pay all the bills around this mu’fucka?” Kane slapped your ass, hard.

You cried out, but your pussy only got wetter. He went back to rubbing your booty, rubbing the sting away.

“I am doing everything I can to make sure you’re straight, baby. And the only thing I get back is attitude. You wouldn’t even kiss me on the cheek. Fuck am I supposed to think about that?” He slapped your ass again. You felt your ass jiggle, each bringing more pain.

You cried out and hoped it was in pain, not that it felt good. You didn’t want to encourage him. But it was probably futile. His finger was still running up and down your pussy, his finger getting wetter and sliding more smoothly.

“I’m sick of this bullshit, Kane. Yours this and yours that. I can move back to Vallejo tonight!” You had been kicking around the idea for a while. You were unhappy here. This was not what you had pictured. He said you’d be safe. He said he’d take you away from your family and treat you like a queen. He was nothing but a liar.

“You sick of the bullshit, then why my pussy wet?”

At his words, your pussy throbbed. A weak whine left you.

“Huh? What was that?” His finger sped up and you shivered. Your mouth worked open and closed like a fish. You couldn’t draw in a full breath.

“Nothin’ to say now?” He asked. He slowed his finger.

“No, no, no, no, wait,” you cried out. You moved your hips, trying to get his finger to speed up. Had he kept going, you would’ve cum in no time.

“Get off me, Kane. Fuck you!”

“It’s cute that you think you can just leave me,” he said. “I know this shit been hard. But I haven’t lied, baby. I got us. And I can’t do this without you,” he said.

“I don’t fuckin’ believe you anymore,” you said. Tears floated to the surface but you ignored it. You didn’t need this shit. Moving was sounding better and better.

You felt Kane lower his sweats. He moved his finger to move your panties to the side. You wanted to push him away, tell him to get out and go hang with his little friends. To find some other bitch to suck his dick.

Kane moved closer, swirling his dick in between your folds to get the tip wet. You shivered and moaned. He slapped the fat tip against your clit and you cried out, needing him to get on with it.

“Let me hear you say it,” he said.

“I hate you!” You said.

Kane chuckled and slapped his dick against you again. “Then why my pussy wet then?”

He slid inside you and you moaned again, clutching the sheets. Kane buried himself all the way to the hilt. He groaned and shook himself a few times, to make sure that he was feeling every bit of your pussy.

“You know I love you, baby,” he said. His hands gripped your ass and squeezed. You moaned and shook your ass. His answering groan only turned you on and made you clench around him.

“I know you love me too,” he said. He lifted your shirt, pressing kisses along your spine. You held on to the covers, nails digging deep and making your fingers cramp.

“Move, nigga!” You demanded.

Kane chuckled. His hand snapped out, wrapping around your ponytail and yanking. He pushed the side of your face into the bed. His face was next to yours, his breaths starting to come out in harsh bursts.

“I see what the issue is now. You just wanted some dick. Daddy been gon’ too long, huh?” He asked.

“Fuck you,” you said and pushed against his hand. He moved his hand down to your neck. His fingers tightened against it and you moaned, fighting off tears.

Fuck him. Because dammit, he was right. With all of the craziness going on, you were lonely as hell. Kane was too paranoid to really let you go out. Sure, you went out for work and random crashes with your friends. But most of your life was spent inside being guarded from stray bullets.

He moved, moving out of you and then slamming back in with a brutal thrust. You cried out. Air escaped your lungs. You breathed in choppy waves.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here, baby. Everything I do, it’s for you,” he said. He kissed your ear and pressed forward, cutting off even more of your air supply. You couldn’t fuckin’ breathe. Kane used his incredible size to completely cover you.

He moved out and then slammed back in again. “Oh god,” you cried. Your brain went ten kinds of mushy, calming down and making your eyes droop. He completely stretched you out, that fit tip pushing against the deepest part of you that he could reach.

“I’m sorry Daddy hasn’t been around. But you have to start talkin’ to me baby. Let me know when you need me to get you right,” he said.

“I’m serious, Kane. I don’t like these niggas in here,” you managed to croak.

“It’s for your protection, baby. I need you safe. You keep me going,” he said.

He moved his hips. Your wet, hot channel warming his dick and soaking him. You felt how wet you were. Arousal leaked out around his dick, slipping down your thighs. Fuck, you needed him to move. You needed him to slam his dick inside of you. You needed him to put you to sleep.

“I’m not comfortable here,” you said.

Kane moved his hips and you groaned. His dick twitched inside of you. You pictured him busting a nut, filling you up, and claiming you the way you wanted.

Kane sighed and kissed your cheek. “What can I do to make you comfortable?” He asked. “Please, baby. The last thing I want is for you to leave me,” he said in your ear.

His raspy voice only made you cry out. A shake was working its way up your legs and hips, vibrating with need. Kane moved a hand to the front of you, running his fingers through your pussy lips and rolling around your clit.

You jerked forward, cumming on his fingers and flooding his dick with your arousal. You moaned and cried, shaking and twitching on his dick.

He held you down through it, watching you with fascination as you unwound. “There it is, mama. Don’t that feel better?” He asked. He kissed you on the lips, running his tongue along the corner of your mouth. He licked your face and you moaned.

“So pretty when you cum, mama. Say you won’t leave me,” he said.

“Kane, I can’t–”

Kane moved over you slowly, stroking his dick into you at a leisurely pace he set. You moaned on every time he went in, somehow getting impossibly deep.

“Tell me you won’t leave me. Who else hit this shit right?” He asked.

You didn’t dare answer. Your answer was never satisfactory. Kane moved his fingers to his mouth and licked them. He hummed and the wet smacks of his tongue turned you on. He felt it and angled his hips, driving in.

“Who else get this pussy talkin’?” He asked.

Your legs shook holding up your weight. “It’s you,” you said. You needed him to speed up. But Kane always did the opposite of what you needed.

You continued to slide up and down his dick like a slow see-saw. You cried out. His hand squeezed harder on your throat.

“Then why don’t you believe me, huh? Can’t you feel what you do to me?” He asked.

You did feel it. His dick slid against your walls. The veiny underside rubbed inside of you. The tip of his dick kissed your G spot.

“Kane, please,” you said.

“You know what my name is, baby. Stop playin’ with me before I get mad,” he said.

You didn’t want him to be mad. There were few things you could deny this man. You could at least be stubborn while he was winning. You could make him fight for every sound from you. Sort of. You never quite managed it in all the time you’ve been together.

“Please,” you begged. Your belly tightened. With every stroke, he pushed it to the surface.

He was dragging it out of you, each pump setting you on fire.

“Say my mu’fucka name,” he said. His voice went lower and you cried out.

“Please,” you whispered.

He slammed into you once, jerking you to wake and scream out. “Daddy, wait!” You moved your hand behind you, searching for his body. He was pressed too close to you, so all you could do was slap against his back. Grip his shirt in your hands to push him off.

Kane chuckled and started slamming into you over and over. “Feel so fuckin’ good squeezing this dick, mama. Gripping this shit. Needing this shit huh? Daddy won’t be gone so long next time, I promise. Haven’t I kept all my promises to you?” He asked.

“Daddy, wait, I’m sorry,” you said. His slams were forceful, pushing you into the bed harder and rougher. Your pussy walls fluttered around his dick and he groaned at the sensation. His thrusts were punishing. Pushing you too fast towards an orgasm.

You cried out, your thighs squeezing together. “Tight as shit for Daddy,” he said. He kissed your lips, kissed your cries away. He kissed and licked your mouth, tasting your scream from the inside out.

Your orgasm was still rolling through you. The tail end of it triggered another one. You started crying and shaking, mumbling under your breath. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck.”

Kane finally groaned, filling you up with his hot nut. He pushed into you more as he came, biting your ear. His hand squeezed further, cutting off your air.

Kane released you and slipped out of you. The mushroom head stretched out your entrance and you moaned. Kane slapped your ass.

“You show Daddy that you want it. Show me you love me,” he said.

Kane yanked you off of the bed. Your jello-like legs wobbled on the plush carpet. He climbed into bed, having shed his sweats completely. You climbed back into the bed and backed into him.

You straddled his legs and he slapped your ass. You pushed onto his dick and sighed at feeling full again. You got onto your elbows and started pushing your ass up and down, throwing it back on him and feeling more and more accomplished as he moaned.

His fingers curled around your hips. Fingertips pressed into your skin. He moaned and watched you slide on his dick. He once told you that he loved watching himself disappear into your wet pussy.

That sometimes he got so hard, he had to rub one out thinking of your slick heat welcoming him home over and over.

That thought made you lose your rhythm. Made you jerk and your hips stutter. Kane slapped your ass with two quick taps. The sting made you hiss.

“Okay, okay,” you said. You rolled your hips, finding your rhythm again.

“That’s it, mama. You needed this. That’s aight. I needed it too,” he said. He trailed his hand under his shirt, rubbing into your lower back.

“Oh shit,” you said, a moan accompanying it. The unexpected massage was like an extra slice of heaven. You clenched around him. You were stuffed, riding his big dick like one of them pony rides.

“C’mon baby. Let me hear that pretty voice. You’re not going anywhere,” he said.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you relented. You moved your hand under your shirt and squeezed your nipples. A wave of pleasure moved from the top of your head to the tip of your toes.

“You gon’ stay,” he said.

“I’m gon’ stay,” you whined.

“You gon’ stay by my side.”

“I’ma stay by yo side,” you moaned.

“I love you, baby.”

“I need you, baby.”

“Fuck me,” he moaned.

“Fuck me,” you said and exploded around his dick. Thunder erupted in between your thighs. Lightning shot through your veins. The scream of the wind left your lungs as you came on him, creaming around him.

You screamed out curses and stutters. Kane slapped your ass through this. “My fuckin’ pussy, right?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“This the last time we talkin’ about this shit, right?”

“Yes, Daddy.” He wrapped his hands around your back and pulled you towards him. Then, he grabbed your arms and pulled them behind you. You continued to slam yourself on him, even though you were far too sensitive. Too raw and exposed. But if you didn’t…if you stopped…you clenched around him at the thought.

“Daddy said he’ll get in this more, right? You believe Daddy?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you said.

Kane groaned and unloaded inside of you. His hot cum pulsed and shot deep. You cried out. “Fuck, Daddy,” you said.

The jets of cum tickled enough of you inside that one more orgasm rolled through you. You turned boneless, collapsing forward. Kane was the only thing keeping you upright. You twitched and moaned as it coursed through you.

Kane wiggled his hips, causing a moan before he slipped out. He pulled you backwards. You groaned at the bend in your legs. The rough fucking made you twinge from overextended muscles in your thighs.

He rolled you onto your side and followed behind. He spooned you, throwing one leg over you.

“I told yo ass, you can’t leave me. It’s us or nothing at all,” he said.

You sniffled and nodded your head. “Yes, Daddy.”

There's more! The Secret Kane Files

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Kane Files #Kane x Black!reader #Kane x Black reader #Kane x Fem!reader #Kane x Fem reader #Kane x reader #Kane x you #Snowfall fanfic #Snowfall fan fic #Snowfall fanfiction #Snowfall fan fiction #Snowfall smut #Kane smut

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ohnococo · 5 months ago

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Here With You | Ijichi x Reader

With work running your lives, it’s been far too long since you’ve had time with your boyfriend. With a free evening finally here, you two have plans together. Plans you won’t quite get to.

❥ WC: 1.9k

❥ Notes: a request for Ijichi + Body Worship for @marikuchanxo I hope you enjoy! 🥰

❥ Warnings: fem bodied reader (no pronouns used), established relationship, kissing, quickies, oral sex/fingering (reader receiving), vaginal sex, creampie

You and Ijichi have spent most of your relationship working around your schedules because, well, you have to. It’s just how things have always been in your busy lives; schedules don’t align, free time becomes scant, and with Ijichi being quite the problem solver, it only took one instance of mismatched expectations before he made sure the two of you set up a nice compromise. From then on, when life got in the way you knew that even if you can’t sit and enjoy meals together or take your walks together or enjoy your evenings, the two of you could still chat over the phone. Sure, it may take a while to get a response, but it’s better than nothing.

The best part of that compromise had come about quite naturally, when the two of you had taken to daydreaming of plans, knowing that things will work out eventually, and you’ll enact them then. So that’s what you did, planting seeds to help grow when the elements agreed to such a thing, and enjoying knowing time together would mean that much more in the meantime.

This time was no different—little hastily sent texts reading “I miss you”, links to new menus at your favourite restaurants, an interesting show one of your coworkers spoke about that you planned to cuddle and watch together once work stopped stealing all of your days. Then the time finally approaches. You’re already home, and Ijichi isn’t far behind, waiting on a few students he needs to drop off after an assignment and then he’ll be right home. You solidify your plans via text as you wait in your respective spots: Ijichi in his car, and you curled up on the couch of your shared apartment.

are you sure just two episodes is fine for tonight?

ofc Kiyo! I miss you but we have to sleep too lol

you’re right 🥺

lemme know when you’re on your way back and I’ll order food 😘

ok, that should be perfect timing

The time between the final confirmation of tonight’s plans and Ijichi texting you that he’s on his way passes just as slowly as the rest of your time apart, but you both finally have something on the horizon other than work and that keeps you going.

You’ve only just gotten your food delivered and sat the containers on the counter when you hear Ijichi’s key pushing into the lock on the front door with a familiar set of clicks. You make your way there to greet him, smile wide with excitement for your night ahead when he finally comes into view and shuts the door behind him. He sets his keys on the little table next to the door and hasn’t even removed his suit jacket before you’re approaching him happily.

“Hi, Kiyo!”

He sighs happily, head tilting as he looks at you with a twinkle in his eye, like just seeing your face was the salve to heal all the wounds he’d received just from being apart so long. “Hi, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“No, the food only just got here.” You move to hug him, and for as tightly as you squeeze, he squeezes that much tighter. You let him, enjoying the proximity, the familiar smell of him, before a question comes to you and you pull back.

“Oh, do you want to eat at the table? Or while we watch tv?”

“Um…“ he looks towards the kitchen, then back at you, chewing his bottom lip as he thinks. He takes a moment much longer than you’d have thought such a question would require, and you step back from his embrace a little further to take in his expression.

There’s a strange look in Ijichi’s eye, less like the calm happiness that he usually has on your nights together. Something much more reminiscent of the eager honeymoon phase of the beginning of your relationship—like he doesn’t know what to say, like he might just mess everything up if he figures that out and makes those thoughts known.

“Kiyotaka? Are you okay?”

“I’m just… it’s good to…” He shakes his head, like he’s trying to wave his thoughts away, but it’s to no avail. He takes off his glasses and tosses them haphazardly onto the counter next to his keys, and pulls you into a kiss. It almost makes you laugh, how eager he is, and how hesitant he’d seemed before. As if you’d ever deny him affection. But then he’s holding your face in both hands and pressing his body to yours and he’s hard.

It’s not like Ijichi to cut straight to the chase like this, bypassing all words and formalities in search of every part of you he could possibly get his hands on—but once he’d had you he’d never gone so long without.

It surprises even him, as he pulls his mouth back to speak, to explain, but all that comes out is a shaky breath before his lips are drawn back to yours. There was even less hope for him to pull his hands away from you, firmly grasping your face to keep you held close so he can use where your mouths meet as the spine for where the pages of your limbs are bound together. His thin leg is slotted between your thighs, pressing at you with the same urgency with which he grinds his clothed hardness against you.

His hands search for your hips, but can’t part long enough so his fingertips graze along your neck, taking in every muscle, feeling your hitching breaths from where they form below your clavicle. He squeezes at your sides for a moment before he’s wrapping his arms around your waist, feeling every inch of your body as if all of it needed to be refreshed in his mind from your absence. Each new area his hands explore elicits another noise from him; sighs, groans, whines, all from his mouth to yours as the prospect of parting your lips is not one he’ll entertain now that he’s captured them.

His hands make their way to the hem of your top, working beneath it to tickle at your heated skin, running his palms across your stomach until he’s pulling your shirt upwards. He falls to his knees, lips parting from yours and you can only just catch a frenzied breath of ”Missed you-“ before he kisses at your stomach. He presses his face to you there, indulging in the softness and warmth, licking and sucking at the skin and leaving marks he normally would not.

“Kiyo, what about you?”

He looks up at you, swollen lips still kissing at your skin, as if only your voice could remind him there might be something to focus on other than you, the feel of you, the smell of you, the taste of you.

Ijichi pulls the bottom of his shirt loose from where it had been tucked into his trousers, but a few buttons is all he can manage to undo before he has to return his hands to your body and it’s like the previous diversion has never happened as he squeezes at your hips before sliding his fingers beneath the waistband of your pants.

He’s even more firm in his goal now, his usual hesitation cast aside and replaced with desperation as he pulls the remainder of your clothes down, mouth latching to the wetness awaiting him before he’s even gotten your panties past your knees. The first taste has him groaning into you, eyes half opened but focused on nothing, pale face long ago turned bright red and now beautifully displayed before you in stark contrast to the soft hair between your legs. He buries his nose there, nudging at your clit as he laps at your wetness, sucking and licking and only coming up for air when his fingers are finally drawn to delve past your folds in place of his writhing tongue—much too short to reach the spots he knew by now that you needed.

His fingers work feverishly, mouth open and moaning as his tongue toys with your clit, and his other hand grips and squeezes at your thigh. It’s only so long before even that isn’t enough as he slides his hand down your thigh to glide along your calf, shoving your clothes down further until you’re trying your best to kick them off without interrupting him from his desperate need to taste you. You pull your shirt over your head, tossing it down to join everything else as you run your fingers through his hair, rocking against his face gently and clenching at his fingers when the action makes him whine against you.

Your fingers trace along his scalp, moaning out his name, and it breaks something in him. His fingers slide out of you suddenly, as his hands work desperately to undo his trousers and shove them down, before he’s pulling you onto his lap. There’s a passing inclination to move yourselves elsewhere: the couch, the rug, the comfort of your bed. You worry for his knees on the hardwood floors, worry that he’ll be uncomfortable, but with the way that his trembling hands try to line himself up with your entrance, whine emanating from his throat at just having his tip in the briefest contact with you, you don’t think he could handle the wait of a few steps travel.

So you help guide him to you properly, and the way his eyes lock on yours, flustered and appreciative and out of his mind to be inside of you, helps you take him all without hesitation.

“Th-thank you…”

Here he is, thanking you, when he’s the one loving you, caring for you, worshipping you wordlessly because he doesn’t have the heart to do anything less than show you just how much he’s needed you. You cling to his shoulders as you rock into his movements, freeing his hands to go back to their desperate groping of your body, finally resting around your waist and pulling you flush to him.

His whines are stifled as he draws one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking gently as he looks up at you in a daze, brows twitching with every moan you let loose, matching your expressions as every step you take to your end tugs him right along with you. The way he thrusts up into you is sloppy, desperate, and when your pleasure reaches a frenzy and you begin clenching around him, he releases your breast, only able to indicate that he wants you to kiss him by looking up at you, a pleading look just breaking through the adoration plastered all over his face as he sticks his tongue out gently.

Your mouth meets his, just as desperately as your hips, and it’s the final straw to your undoing. Your orgasm is blinding as you both cling to each other with a desperation you had not felt since the very beginning of your relationship, it borders on too much, but as Ijichi begins to spill inside of you, it’s as if it will never be enough as you ride out the last of your orgasm until your boyfriend is panting beneath you.

This time, as you hold each other on the floor of your shared apartment, neither of you sees any reason to let go; cooling food and sore knees be damned, because all that matters is you’re back together, for now.

banners by @//cafekitsune

#my writing #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #ijichi kiyotaka x reader #Ijichi Kiyotaka x you #ijichi Kiyotaka x y/n #ijichi x reader #ijichi x you #ijichi x y/n #kiyotaka ijichi x reader #kiyotaka ijichi x you #Kiyotaka Ijichi x y/n #ijichi smut #Ijichi Kiyotaka smut

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sixhours · 8 months ago

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One Day at a Time - Chapter 2 - Implantation

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel Miller x f!OFC, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, SMUT, gratuitous smut, dubious consent (drunk sex), unplanned pregnancy, fluff, references to past miscarriages, angst, hurt/comfort, romance, age gap (~21 years), childbirth, fluffy baby stuff, I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

And that should have been that.

Joel’s new life in Jackson was busy. Contracting projects always picked up this time of year. Patrols got more eventful as the last of the snow melted. There was work to do, and he had Ellie to consider.

Ellie, his fifteen-year-old ward, the second daughter he didn’t know he needed until she was forced on him in a desperate time. Things with Ellie were complicated for many reasons, all of which they were trying to ignore. She vacillated between treating him like a father and pretending he didn’t exist with not a lot of in-between. She’d recently moved out of his house and into the garage, and he hoped the extra space would improve their relationship, but it was too soon to tell.

Accidentally fucking his patrol partner in a drunken stupor was low on his list of concerns.

He put the whole ordeal in the back of his mind.

Mostly.

He saw Charlie around, of course. It was hard to miss her flash of silver-white hair during town meetings or meals at the caf. He might get a nod or a smirk in passing, and that was fine. He might have even felt a glancing flush of heat creep up his neck when she smiled at him, and that was fine, too.

But then…things got weird.

She’d see him coming down the street and cross to the other side. She ducked her head and avoided his eyes whenever they crossed paths during patrol prep. She suddenly wasn’t around in the usual hangout spots–the Bison, the caf. Then she missed three patrol shifts in a row. When he asked Tommy about it, he just shrugged and said she’d called out sick.

It shouldn’t have bothered him. They’d agreed to pin it on drunken stupidity and move on, but maybe she’d changed her mind. Maybe she regretted it. Maybe she hated him.

And maybe that shouldn’t have mattered, but it did.

He should have let it go.

He’s eating with Ellie in the caf when he sees Charlie come in, stamping the mud off her boots. She gets halfway to the serving counter and then stops mid-stride, faltering. She turns abruptly and catches him staring–her eyes lock on Joel’s for an uncomfortable length of time, long enough for Ellie to notice and turn around.

Then her eyes grow wide and she ducks her head and makes a beeline for the door, leaving the caf in a rush. The whole thing takes just a few seconds.

Ellie turns back to look at him. “Dude, you okay?”

“Yeah…”

He’s still watching the door, waiting to see if Charlie will come back, but she doesn’t. After a moment’s hesitation, he gets up.

“I’ll…be right back,” he says faintly, leaving his tray and his confused kid behind.

He catches up with her down the street, startling her with a hand on her shoulder. She wheels around, eyes wide and…tired, he thinks. Anxious. Like she’s just barely holding herself together.

“What?” she snaps.

He opens his mouth, realizing a moment too late that he doesn’t know what to say. He gapes like a fish for a few miserable seconds before he finally settles on the truth.

“You’re avoidin’ me.”

“I’m not,” she says, crossing her arms and setting her jaw.

“Then lemme walk you home.”

Her lips flatten into a thin line. “I’m not going home.”

“Then walk me home,” he says quickly. “M’up this way.”

She considers this, then rolls her eyes and continues up the road toward Rancher Street.

“I’m not avoiding you, Joel,” she huffs.

“Then what was that back at the caf?”

“I…wasn’t hungry.”

“I haven’t seen you around. Tommy said you were sick.”

“I’m fine.”

They continue in silence, Charlie tucked into herself with her head down, him trying to make his dumb, slow brain cooperate and figure out how to get her to open up. The walk is over too quickly.

“This is me,” he says when they’re firmly planted in front of the house on Rancher Street. “Look, if I, uh, did somethin’–”

“You didn’t.”

“I just mean…we said–”

“I know what we said and that’s still the case,” she says, the words tumbling out in a rush. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, agitated, almost…scared. “We said it wouldn’t be weird and it’s not, you’re just…making it that way.”

Her face screws up and she swallows hard; he can see the way her arms tighten around herself as she talks, pale fingers almost white with the ferocity of her grip.

His voice softens, unconsciously slipping into the tone he uses when Ellie’s having one of her nightmares. His hand twitches at his side, wanting to touch her, to console her, but he won’t.

“Charlie? What’s wrong?”

She closes her eyes and shakes her head slowly, then suddenly pushes past him, ducking off to the side of the house to vomit next to his garbage can. She heaves and spits and wipes her mouth with a soft fuck .

He moves toward her, reaches out a hand to steady her, but her next words freeze him in place.

“I’m pregnant.”

For one endless moment, this information doesn’t register. The words don’t make sense, echoing in his head until they’re reduced to nonsense syllables.

“You’re–that’s not–”

Charlie’s arms are folded over her chest, staring numbly at a spot on the ground near Joel’s feet.

“I thought you were…I thought you…couldn’t…I don’t–”

“You thought I couldn’t?”

“You’re just…we’re…older,” he finishes lamely.

She cocks her head, considering him from under long lashes. “How old do you think I am, Joel?”

Oh hell no. That’s a trap if he ever heard one. “M’not gonna answer that.”

“I’m thirty-six.”

“You’re–”

He feels his knees buckle. Christ, he’s old enough to be her fucking father. Sarah would be the same age if she’d lived–

Sarah.

He tries and fails miserably to make it look like his taking a seat on the porch steps is intentional.

Suddenly he’s twenty-two and having this exact conversation, parked in his parents’ beat-up station wagon in an empty lot in the middle of nowhere, Texas, the cute high school senior he’d met only a few months before riding shotgun with a plastic pee stick in her lap. His whole fucking life about to change, and now it’s happening again.

“Grayed early,” she says, absently touching her short silver locks, pulling him out of this painful reverie. “It’s hereditary.”

He swallows hard and grips the rough wood of the step under him, feels the prick of a splinter and doesn’t care. “You’re sure it’s mine?”

The acid look she gives him could melt steel.

“You’re the only person I’ve fucked in the last, oh, three years, so yeah. I’m pretty fucking sure.”

“Jesus Christ,” he moans softly, head swimming.

“It’s not like I asked for this, either,” she snaps.

A glimmer of bittersweet hope, then. Maybe she doesn’t want this. He sure as hell doesn’t want this. Maybe…

“What are you going to do about it?” he asks carefully, looking up at her from his spot on the steps.

This appears to give her pause, face suddenly pinched with something like grief.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“It means I don’t fucking know. You followed me out here,” Charlie hisses. “I wasn’t even going to tell you, but then you fucking cornered me!”

He’s stunned into silence, stung by her venom. He knows what he’s supposed to say. He knows he should say it’s her choice, that he’ll support her no matter what. But fuck if he can make himself say the words.

He’s always been a terrible liar.

“Whatever,” Charlie says. “You don’t need to–you’re not obligated–don’t worry about it.”

He gapes. Don’t worry about it? How the hell is he not supposed to worry about this?

But she’s already turned on her heel and is marching away. He wants to get up and follow her but he can’t force his legs to hold him, so he stays, rooted in place by a panic that feels like deja vu.

He’s still sitting there when Ellie’s shadow falls over him, many minutes later.

“You look like you’ve seen a bloater,” she says dryly.

“I’m…fine, kid. M’fine,” he mumbles, wiping at his face.

“Thanks for ditching me for your girlfriend back there.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he mutters. “Don’t you have homework or somethin’?”

“Ugh. Yeah, but I’d rather bug you,” she grins, plopping down on the step next to him. “Besides, it’s movie night. Maria says it’s one of those cheesy action ones you like. Figured you’d want to go.”

He looks at her then, and his eyes must give something away, because she cocks her head, worried. “Joel?”

Oh, god, and he has Ellie to think about now. Everything with her is so fragile, so tenuous, and he’s gone and thrown another wrench into the works. He turns his head so she doesn’t see the single, traitorous tear that’s threatening to escape.

“Yeah,” he croaks out. “Yeah, kid, let’s…go see a movie.”

He doesn’t taste the popcorn, doesn’t follow the plot, and doesn’t remember saying goodnight to Ellie when the movie is over. Then he goes to bed and lays on his back and stares at the ceiling until his alarm goes off several hours later.

The next morning, he’s prepping for patrol, lost in the same hazy fog of shock, when Charlie rides up beside him.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” he bites out before he can stop himself.

“I’m on the schedule,” she says. “Why wouldn’t I be here?”

“It’s…you’re…” he swallows hard, looking around to make sure no one is listening. He hauls himself into the saddle and leans in. “You’re fuckin’ pregnant.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“You can’t–”

“Your sister-in-law was out here until she was six months along, if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah, but–”

She glares at him. “But what?”

He groans in frustration, looking around. “Who’re you with?”

“Allan,” she nods to the curly-haired woman waiting by the gate with Tommy. “She’s new.”

“Fuck that,” Joel says. “She needs someone with more experience. Tommy can take her.”

It’s bullshit and he knows it. Charlie has been part of Jackson’s patrol roster longer than Joel, but before she can protest, he urges his horse to the gate to meet up with his brother.

“Tommy, we’re switching. I’m gonna go with Charlie. You take the new girl.”

Tommy studies him, glances back at Charlie, and raises an eyebrow. “If you say so, big brother.”

Joel scowls. “Don’t get ideas, s’not like that.”

“Didn’t say nothin’,” Tommy smirks. “Be safe.”

The gates creak open and the patrol team strides through, pairs breaking off to go their separate ways.

“What the fuck was that?” Charlie hisses when Tommy and his new partner are out of earshot.

“We should talk,” Joel mutters. “Figured this was better. Unless you wanted the whole fuckin’ town to know.”

“We don’t have anything to talk about.”

That earns her a look. “You’re carrying my fuckin’ kid. I think we can find somethin’ to talk about.”

“It’s not ‘your kid’ or my kid or anyone’s kid until it’s born, and that’s…that’s not…likely to happen.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her lips twitch. “It means…I’ve been pregnant before. Multiple times. They don’t usually…take.”

He gapes. “Multiple…?”

“Oh, don’t fucking look at me like that,” she snaps. “It’s not what you’re thinking, not that it’s any of your damn business. I don’t make it a habit of getting knocked up. I had a life before Jackson.”

Heat crawls up his neck. He opens his mouth to apologize but nothing comes out. They ride in silence for several painfully awkward minutes.

“It’s fine,” Charlie says finally, staring straight ahead. “It’s something I’ve had a lot of time to come to terms with. Probably some hormone imbalance or whatever. I’ve never carried a pregnancy past nine weeks.”

He tries to count backward, to find that damp March day and the hazy hungover memory of their coupling.

“How many weeks has it been?”

“Eight and a half,” she says flatly. “Don’t worry, I’ll probably start cramping any day now.”

There’s a sadness in her voice that catches him off guard, tugs at his heart.

He’d only wanted to be a father in hindsight. He only knew he couldn’t live without his children when he’d held them in his arms, real and alive. He’d never had the chance to dream about what it would be like, only to have that dream cruelly stolen away.

They ride in a silence that Joel would normally prefer, but suddenly it’s stifling and heavy, almost suffocating.

“So, uh, Charlie…is that short for somethin’?”

She glances at him, bemused. “It’s Charlotte. I used to go by Lottie, but after the outbreak, I found it was…easier if people thought I was a guy. Short hair and all. The nickname stuck.”

“How’d you make it to Jackson?”

“I was part of a group that left Kansas City before the rebellion. Me and six others,” she shifts in the saddle. “One of them was a Firefly, had heard about Jackson through the grapevine and wanted to try to find it. We left in the winter, things got rough. I was the only one who made it. That was three years ago.”

“How, uh, long were you in Kansas City? Before that?”

She shoots him a look. “From day one.”

“So you were–”

“Fifteen. I was born and raised outside the city and was moved to FEDRA territory when the outbreak hit. I considered myself lucky at the time. Of course, we didn’t know how bad it would get.”

“You have family?”

“My folks and brother were killed. It’s just me.”

“M’sorry.”

She shrugs. “Was a long time ago.”

They ride in silence.

“So what’s your tragic story?” she says dryly. “I’m guessing you found Jackson because you’re Tommy’s older brother. Where’d you come from?”

“Boston.”

“That’s a pretty fuckin’ weird Boston accent,” she says, lightly mimicking his drawl.

“Originally from Texas,” he says, biting the inside of his cheek. “And there’s not much to tell. Shit hit the fan on my 36th birthday. Tommy and I got out.”

She whistles. “You’re older than you look.”

“M’not sure if that’s a compliment, but I’ll take it.”

“And Ellie? She’s your daughter?”

Your daughter. He still can’t hear the word without picturing Sarah first, a little betrayal.

“I’m the one they call when she’s gettin’ into trouble, yeah,” he mutters. “She, uh…she found me in Boston, we made the trip out here together. She’s a good kid. Seen a lot of shit.”

“Haven’t we all.”

A longer silence as they ride toward the outpost, interrupted only by birdsong and the regular thudding rhythm of the horses’ steps.

He clears his throat. “You’ll, uh, tell me if it doesn’t…take, right?”

She snorts. “I’ll let you know when you’re off the hook.”

“No,” he frowns. “I meant…you shouldn’t have to go through somethin’ like that alone.”

Her gaze in his peripheral vision lingers for a bit too long.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I’ll tell you.”

#the last of us hbo #the last of us #joel miller #fanfic #fic recs #babyfic

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cookiescribble · 1 month ago

Text

Flufftober Day 2: "Left. Other Left!"

A/N: this one was very fun to write, we had a blast writing out their accents. also neither of us speak french, sorry 😅 -mods angel & ghost

Pairing: Gambit x Rogue

Summary: On a trip down to Louisiana, Gambit learns the hard way that there's important duties for a passenger princess, much to Rogue's dismay.

~~~

“CHÉRE, TURN LEFT!” Gambit shouted from the passenger seat of the car as the couple was passing an intersection.

With that, Rogue veered the wheel to the left, turning the car violently in the direction she was told.

“DAMMIT, CHÉRE, YOUR OTHER LEFT!” Gambit threw his hands up in exasperation, gesturing in the opposite direction they were turning.

“DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHICH WAY IS LEFT, YOU SWAMP RAT??” Rogue yelled back at him, starting to pull the car over. “SHOW ME WHICH WAY YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!”

Gambit proceeded to point in the direction he’d meant.

“…Remy Etienne LeBeau, that is RIGHT!!!” Rogue sighed incredulously.

“…Is that…not the same as left?”

Rogue paused to drop her head into her hands. “This is gonna be a long drive if you’re gonna do that the whole time.”

“Do what the whole time, chére?” Gambit sighed, waving his hand nonchalantly.

“Give me the wrong directions! If you can’t tell right from left, we’re just gonna be going ‘round in circles the whole time!” Rogue made circles in the air between them with her finger to demonstrate.

“But it wouldn’t be too bad if I get to spend more time with you, non?” He flashed her a dazzling grin.

“Not when we end up at the bottom of the ocean! Listen, sugah, I love you ‘n’ all but you gotta be clear with what ya sayin’!”

“I was clear,” he asserted, a sly smile on his face. “You just didn’t undastand me, that ain’t mah fault.”

Rogue let out an annoyed groan. “Gambit, I will turn this car around. Or I will throw you out of this car if I have to,” she pointed her finger at him like she was an angry mother.

“Don’t be so harsh, petite, I’m not usually the one behind the wheel.” Gambit shrugged with a simple shake of his head before leaning back in the passenger seat, his arms moving to support his head as his eyes slid closed, “if you hate drivin’ dis much, maybe you should just fly us dere,” he moved slightly to mime flying with his hand.

“You’re a real comedian, ain’tcha? Maybe I should let you take the wheel, then we can see how long it takes us to drive there.” She takes one hand off the steering wheel, pretending to fully let go so he’d dive forward.

“Mon dieu, chére, you’re gonna put me in an early grave with stunts like dat.” Gambit sighed as he realized that she still had the wheel, letting himself relax back into his seat.

“You’ll be fine, I’m pretty sure we’re almost there anyway,” Rogue chuckled with a quick roll of her eyes, watching the road. “Where does the map say we are?”

“Uhh…” he fumbled with the map for a moment, squinting as he tried to read, “we’re in… Boswel.” “Boswell…in INDIANA???”

“...No?” “Lemme see this dang thing.” Rogue pulled over again then leaned in to look over his shoulder, before smacking him upside the head. “You idiot, this whole map is upside down!” When Gambit looked confused, she turned the map the right way up, to which he started looking sheepish. “Chére, I have some unfortunate news for ya” he grinned as she sat back in her seat, hearing her groan as she snatched the map from him. “Oh, do ya? I can’t imagine what that might be.” She couldn’t help smiling, the charm he had winning her over even though she was frustrated. “What would you do without me?”

The car fell into silence as she poured over the map, calculating how long it would take to get from what was most definitely Indiana down to Louisiana, “I’m not sure when we’re gonna make it down to your Pa’s, sugah. We’re pretty far outta the way.” “It’s alright, chére, I’m just havin’ a ball drivin’ with ya.” He grinned as he spoke, taking one of her hands off the map to hold it since she had her gloves on. “It can just be you and me now. We’ll find some place to stay, try this again tomorrow.”

“…alright, but I’m in control of the map next time.” she turned the car back onto the road as she spoke, “I saw a sign for a motel a few miles back, we can stay there for the night.”

“Sounds good to me, petite, as long as I’m with you,” Gambit replied with a wink.

“Do you have an off switch?” Rogue rolled her eyes playfully.

“Why, would you like to find it, mon amour?” He countered, his voice provocative, a teasing smile on his face.

She just scoffed and brushed him off, driving them to the nearest yet least filthy motel she could find, putting this trek to an end. When they eventually got back to the mansion a few days later, Rogue told the rest of the X-men the story. Gambit was never in charge of directions after that.

#flufftober2024 #flufftober #romy #remy lebeau #anna marie lebeau #x men #x men gambit #x men rogue #mod angel #mod ghost #fanfiction #x men fanfiction #gambit fanfiction #rogue x gambit #rogue xmen #gambit xmen #rogue fanfiction #romy fanfic

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piningpercussionist · 11 months ago

Note

Howdy, Pine! Can we get three headcanons for all your favorite Scott Pilgrim characters? :-)

Oh absolutely!!!! Lemme think for a minute...

((FUTURE FUTURE ME: I LITERALLY JUST PROCESSED YOU SAID THREE HEADCANONS IM SO SORRY--- YOU WILL UNDERSTAND 😭))

Okay I had a whole thing here, but we're gonna try this again but slightly more Hinged-- forcing myself to format so things don't get out of hand again. I will HAPPILY elaborate, though!!

((Whoop this is future me. This post is going to be so long if I dont do this, so I'm going to put this all under the cut! I'll try to remember to come back up here with the characters I talk about- alternative, should I not do that, maybe check the tags! I'll try to only tag the people I'm directly talking about))

KIM PINE

sexuality: very likely canonically Bi, I am a very big fan of her being a comp. het. lesbian, though (I get this both from my read of the comics/her character and just me Injecting myself into my favorite characters ✌️)

pronouns: she/her usually, but I think she'd be very open and vibe with they/them (me injecting myself again, but also she's just chill like that. I think she prefers if strangers use they/them for her, and her friends or partners use she/her. I'm undecided if she prefers her partners call her their girlfriend or their partner, though.)

Characters I think she has feelings for: RAMONA FLOWERS, Lisa Miller, (MAYBE Scott Pilgrim, still)

Elaboration on that:

I honestly think I can just. Point at some comic panels for Ramona. And the goat thing again. They make me Unhinged that's how canon that is.

Lisa!!! My beloved!!! I think she had a tiny crush on her in high school and had no idea that it was a crush until way later in life- maybe shortly after seeing her again, actually. But like. She's so obviously smiley and happy when she's around, I really can't help but read it that way! She, at the very least, gets an extreme mood boost in her presence, so she really likes having her around.

Scott Pilgrim.... *scrubbing at my face* okay. Okay. So, I have a couple different reads on her feelings for Scott, they're kind of complicated for me to dismantle. Especially since I haven't started my reread of book 6 (I've been giving my thumbs a break, which I am currently prolonging but I have been DYING for someone to ask me to talk about this series.) I'm going to go with my more canon read and leave it at that I think, because it's already becoming this text wall.

Scott was really important to her, I think. She's this aloof, sullen, bitchy girl and she knows it- and then this dorky idiot walks into her life and they really hit it off! They date, they have really sweet, private moments together- it's everything to her. It's someone loving her in spite of the hard shell she initially puts out, and managing to reach her soft, easily bruised heart in ways no one had before. But then he left so abruptly, and that heart was crushed under the weight of her own ribcage. I think she carried that hurt with her every day from that point- I don't imagine her having a particularly roaring love life after that. I think she kept that hurt bottled, and it made any relationships she DID attempt fall apart. It's a wound she's been nursing for way, way too long, and I think she knows that- that's why she wants so badly to forget about it. But then she goes to Toronto and runs into Scott again at the lowest point in his life, and she can't get herself to step away, because this is the only person who ever claimed to love her in a way she felt. I think her decision to stay was sort of... detrimental to her moving on. If she'd detatched herself and stepped back, maybe she could have moved on eventually- she could have worked on herself, or maybe lucked out and found someone who could get through those walls without a sledgehammer, and she would have been better for it. But that's not what happens. She stayed, and I think the longer she stayed the harder it became to keep herself completely shielding from him, because he's still that same goofy guy at his core- he's just a bit worse than she remembered him being. But damn near everything he does throughout the comics just continues to crush her until she HAS to leave- he can apologize, and she can accept it for the version of him she loved, but he's not enough to convince her to stay anymore. I'm going to cut my canon analysis there until I reread their next scene, rather than just continuing incase my thoughts have slightly changed, but like... man... they hurt me in a very unique way. If it was anyone other than Scott, it'd be tragic. (Maybe it still is, maybe that's the Kim Bitterness talking)

For a brief touch on my less canon take, with Kim being a lesbian: I think Scott would have been better placed in her life as a best friend than a partner, but when you're young, and honestly even when you're not all that young, emotional distinction like that can be so, so confusing. So all of the hurt remains very genuine, because she does love him, just not the way she thought she did.

((Because I do love the trans!fem Scott HC as well, I will say. I feel like it would be really, really funny for Kim to realize she's into women and be like "wow sure dodged round two of the Scott Pilgrim bullet" and then one day Scott shows up having started her transition and is like "Oh hey Kimmy!! I'm a lesbian AND a girl, like you now!!!" And Kim just. Crushes her drink or something in her hand like "oh no... oh no she's attractive again... FUCK FUCK FUCK." Obviously a lot more nuanced than that, though. I should probably clarify that I started answering this ask almost IMMEDIATELY after waking up and also BEFORE I've taken more pain meds. If this post has been or starts to become very scattered again, that's why lol.))

Bonus consideration: Hollie. I can dig her having a crush on Hollie, but I feel like it faded a little living with her, and then shattered entirely after the Jason Kim situation. Even an overwhelming attraction to women ain't savin that one, chief. That's just too severe a betrayal.

The Knives Situation: Oh Boy. So in the original answer for this I had a whole thing done up, lemme try to condense it. Basically, I think Kim woke up the next morning HORRIFIED by what she'd done. Like, dry heaving in the bathroom horrified. And this likely really hurt Knives's feelings, should she see! Which Kim would feel horrible about. I'm undecided on if she just runs from the situation before Knives can wake up, or if they have a sort of agrument/one-sided rant on Kim's part afterward where she just really tries to hammer home for Knives how not okay it was for them to do that- for HER to do that, given their ages and inherent power imbalance. In the event that this discussion happens, Knives absorbed none of it, and probably leaves that conversation a little wounded. I think it would proceed to play back in her mind when she and Stephen are talking at one of Julie's parties later on, though, and she'd probably approach Kim after that to thank her for being a reasonable adult about that, unlike how some of her friends had been. Once that understanding is reached, I think they could be good friends, although Kim probably teases her for how she started to dress like her after they first met.

Silly little things: If anyone's familiar with Night in the Woods, do you know the part where Mae's like "that's not drums... that's a computer..."? I feel like that has Kim energy. To me.

Also I think Kim sucks at Rockband- I know that releases like, way afterward or something so far as comic timeline goes, but bare with me, okay? It's my silly little headcanons! Anyway, she'd suck really, really bad on the drums, since so far as I can recall, they don't REALLY correspond with the music. If her friends force her to play, she demands either the mic or the bass, because "fuck you Scott, you try playing their stupid fucking drums." He proceeds to play flawlessly, much to her chagrin. She fairs better on the bass, but only a bit better than the drums, since her fingers aren't quite used to the movements.

Kim didn't think she liked cats for a while, mostly because she was only ever around them fleetingly, and generally in the homes of people who should have been cleaning their litter boxes more regularly. After hanging around Ramona's house more, though, she discovers she really love them! She feels a sort of kinship watching how they actually behave, and I think Gideon ends up warming to Kim very quickly, which probably helps with the very quick turnaround on her opinion. I think it'd be funny if sometimes, when Kim's over, Scott will try to beckon Gideon over to him for cuddles or affection, and the cat will just. Stare at him entirely unimpressed before jumping up into Kim's lap with exaggerated purring and chin rubbing before curling up for a "nap." Kim was in awe the first time this happened, and Ramona finds it ceaselessly amusing every time it happens. ((Funny additonal scenario: once after this happened Scott was whining to Ramona, who was coming to join them on the couch, looking generally very sad/cute/pathetic, and overcome with a sort of playful evil, Ramona proceeded to sit by and cuddle up to Kim as well. Kim immediately froze up and went bright red and wide eyed, Scott's jaw probably dropped before he dove into a theatrical, exaggerated spewl about the betrayal of it all, and Ramona just got to blissfully enjoy Kim cuddles while giggling at both of their reactions and petting Gideon.))

Conversely, I don't know how Kim feels about dogs. Like, I don't think she hates them or anything like that, but maybe they fill her with a sense of pity, for their associations with unwavering loyalty. Something about that specifically runs too close to things she considers about herself, at times, maybe. Idk, just kinda spit ballin here.

I think she does like rats! And mice. Idk. They're cute little guys and I like them, let me have this--

Oh man... just Kim's section is so long. And I have other characters to get to,,, buckle up I guess--- I mean, I did start with My Girl, so maybe the others will be shorter?

((This is future future me again... this is where I actually went back and processed the ask properly :') I have no words to describe my current emotional state beyond that I am trying really hard not to burst into a little fit of laughter at myself and wake my roommate--))

Three! Three headcanons!! I can do this (restraintrestraintrestraint)

Okay! Let's try being Normal About Media- and just as a note, they aren't really in any particular order, beyond Kim being the first because she IS legitimately my favorite, I think. Idk she's very Me.

Ramona Flowers

1. She doesn't really do labels, for things like her idenity; she does think pride flags are pretty, though. Scott got her a bi flag once and she decided to keep it and hang it in her room for this exact reason, though she did explain to him that she doesn't really consider herself anything but herself- Ramona Flowers. He's very understanding about that, although a little confused in the typical Scott manner! They eventually come around to just considering it being his flag, when he comes to terms with himself (yeah, spoilers, I HC him as bi)

2. Her hair actually does have magic properties to it that prevent it from getting absolutely butchered by all the bleaching she does- she doesn't know how or why, though. Maybe it's less magic and more to do with the supplies themselves? Unlike Scott, she's not as meticulous when it comes to reading the status effect labels on things she uses or consumes.

3. Of her former partners, I think she does have genuine lingering feelings for Roxie. So far as the comics/movie go, she simply repressed the hell out of them and plays the Deny Deny Deny! game, but so far as the show goes, I think she's come to terms with the fact that she still loves her, but horrifically fumbled her- she doesn't want to hurt Roxie like that again, so she's unlikely to ever try things again between them, I think. Not unless Roxie was the initiator, and even then, it'd take some coaxing.

Bonus 4. She absolutely has feelings for Kim. I feel like maybe further into their relationship she'd 100% ask Scott like "hey... you know your really hot friend Kim?" and proceed to discuss with him if being in a polyamorous relationship is something he could get behind. Maybe it'd happen after a period of time with Kim living with them too, or something.

Roxie Richter

1. She gets ALL the girls- all of them. She's an unholy TERROR for men where she lives, because she is notorious for giving women the night of their lives and making them never look back so far as dating men goes. Now, I don't think she deliberately breaks up people or goes after "straight" girls or anything, but it's probably something that's happened on accident before, so she's A Menace. I will say that she might deliberately swoop in and woo a girl she knows is taken if it's extremely clear that their relationship is just Not Right- like if she's seeing clear signs of abuse, or something. She isn't intending to get with these girls when she does this, but she is fully intending to get them out of shitty situations. She's even turned girls down after their (ex) boyfriends have stormed off in a huff, simply out of respect for them- she'll try to give them advice, and if they're adamant in trying New Venues, she might play matchmaker where she can, but she isn't really comfortable sleeping with them after doing stuff like that- to her, it feels gross, maybe even exploitative.

2. I actually don't know if this is meant to be canon or not, because it's noted alongside some of her sketches, but she's german/japanese in my eyes- but raised in the states. She knows English the best, and some German, but she doesn't really know much Japanese, much to her own agitation- she just struggles with it a lot, for whatever reason. She can kind of read some things, but if she tries to speak it she runs the risk of butchering the words. I personally further HC her dad as German and her mom as Japanese- dad by process of elimination, mom based loosely on how I read some of her and Ramona's conversations in the comics.

3. She is in fact whistling the tune in the show intending it to be from the Robin Hood movie- in fact, I think I'm going to HC it as one of her favorite animated films from childhood. (... do I HC her as a furry now?)

Lisa Miller

1. Disaster Bi! She's a bit of a Menace and she knows it; she likes to rile people up, but she can't really take what she dishes out. Like, if she'd done the kind of seductive teasing she does to Scott to Kim and received any sort of flirting back, her brain would shut down and she'd need to reboot. She doesn't know how to handle when someone else takes the reigns, which is why it was so easy and fun to play with Scott- he was too stunned/shy to play back, which she enjoys. Not to imply she doesn't enjoy having her brain melted a little, of course.

2. I think she makes it big after she heads to America! Or at least, bigger than she was. She sends her friends back in Toronto signed copies of movie posters and CDs and things when she can- she doesn't expect them to keep them, although she loves it when they do, but at least in Scott's case it's sort of a "incase of emergency, please sell" sort of situation. He does not, obviously. (Ramona probably does, though, both from admittedly petty lingering jealousy and because they just don't have room for all of it; Scott rarely seems to notice anyhow, and the money usually goes towards rent or random gifts for him anyhow)

3. I forget if everyone's sudden absence is noticed when they Poof briefly during the finalt episode of the show, but if it is I feel like Lisa starts to talk to Kyle, since he's in front of her, like "hey, what exactly happened there-" before looking out over everyone else who reappeared in their seats and noticing Scott is actually up there with them. She spends the rest of that night chatting up him and the league, and maybe even scores an in with Matthew for getting a foothold in her acting career!

Matthew Patel

1 . He absolutely has a dedicated cult following for his theatrical works, and it's warranted! He's genuinely good at what he does, and his passion is clear as day; any production is lucky to have him, and he knows it, which can kind of lead to butting heads behind the scenes. I feel like he might come across to his fellow performers as full of himself, especially given his proficiency with one man performances, but he truly is just deeply, deeply passionate about his work, and he wants to feel that passion with anyone he works with, too. He NEEDS his energy matched to feel like it's going to be a grand performance, and he simply doesn't notice how off-putting this can be for his coworkers as a result.

2. The demon hipster chicks have always been the visual age they are now, even when Matthew was a kid; he viewed them as older sisters growing up, and they're very protective of him perhaps as a result. At his current age, they're his best friends and personal body guards- they'll descend like rabid dogs on anyone that steps out of line around him, if he doesn't call them off. Sometimes it's a bit much for him, but they're usually pretty good about understanding when they do and don't need to interfere on his behalf.

3. Ya know I'm not sure if it's a HC I've seen at all but I could really vibe with trans!masc Matthew. I would love that for him, truly.

Scott Pilgrim

1. Look... I really love any trans!Scott headcanons. Like, any direction, I've said before; I genuinely have such a problem figuring out which version I enjoy best: he's trans!masc and has been all along, or trans!fem and Ramona eventually helps to crack that egg. But also, while I'm saying this, he is. So stupid. Not like maliciously stupid in this sense, absolutely not, but I feel like he's the kind of person to like. Run into someone from his past post their transition, with THEM coming up to HIM to be like "oh long time no see, Pilgrim," and then he would say something to the affect of "oh, you have the same last name as (DN)!!! Are you related? Kim, Kim!! Do you know if (DN) had any siblings?" while Kim and the other person just stare at him deadpan for a bit before bursting into laughter at his expense. He would then proceed to be really confused and just not get it, either until they explain it to him or like, he'd just suddenly sit up in a cold sweat later that night realizing what he did like "oh my GOD that WAS them, I said their dead name at them like seven times!! I am Going To Hell!!!" (And Ramona would just kind of blindly, lightly slap around in his general direction, like "honey you're not going to hell for basically affirming the effectiveness of their transition, go the fuck to sleep. They would've said something if it was a problem." Idk, that's just how he feels to me.)

2. When he has his own money for things, and space living with Ramona, he spends it on video games or video game related merch- it's probably a lot of patches and t-shirts, but I can see him starting to collect plushies, too! Like some of the really old kinda silly looking Sonic plushies, for example? If I had my Knuckles one on hand I'd use him as an example, but I think he's in storage somewhere :(

3. Gets into really heated arguments about video game mechanics and stat stuff where applicable; like, Ramona has to drag him away or else he will actively start fighting people kind of heated. He can hold chill conversations, but if he feels like he's being talked down to about a game that he's REALLY into, like Sonic Adventure (he has the director's cut!)

Wallace Wells

1. MENACE TO SOCIETY. He's comparable to Roxie in this way except he is so much worse (I say this affectionately <3) because he does just straight up, in canon, do things like steal Stacey's boyfriends! And that's his friend that he's doing that to! So I cannot IMAGINE what mischief he gets up to when he goes out drinking. He's probably ruined so many lives, naybe even marriages. What am I saying, maybe? Definitely. And he feels no remorse about this! In his eyes either your man was already gay or you needed to treat him better, sweetie; he HAS been rejected before, so clearly his charms can't ruin what ain't already broken.

2. While he does have feeling for Scott, which is basically canon I don't even want to hear it, he KNOWS better. Like, he'd been living with Scott for a while, so he knows if they were legitimately dating he probably would be even more sick of him than he already is. When they were still living together, though, there were times where he couldn't help but wonder if it would really be all that bad... right before Scott comes in and does or says something that just highlights for Wallace that he's making the Sane choice. Besides, Wallace is (and i hate using these terms but I straight up don't know what other words I could possibly use) a sugar baby; he can't keep up being both a sugar baby and Scott's effective sugar daddy (HATEHATEHATE THAT WORD) while ALSO paying rent. It doesn't really work out that well, especially with him having, at the time, such a shitty apartment to begin with.

3. I feel like Wallace really enjoys his nightlife and getting to sleep around, so I'm unsure if this is something still in play while he's with Mobile, or if he respects Mobile enough to do away with that entirely. Like, different situations work for different relationships, so if Mobile is fine with it then maybe it's something that continues! But taking into account the sparks from the show, maybe he'd actually be really fine being exclusive with Mobile. Especially given how well their future selves seem to be doing. Idk! Basically the sum of this one is just that, if Wallace is exclusive with Mobile, he misses be a bit of a whore, but he's very happy where, and with who he is, now.

Envy Adams

1. She gives me vibes.. queer vibes... in some sort of direction.... idk if I'm fully behind her also being a comp. het lesbian or just labeling her a disaster bi, but I also get a vague sense of gender fuckery. It's entirely her name thing, probably, but I can see Envy being genderqueer.

2. She probably hunted Lynette down after that show- an arm was likely Not Enough to quite satisfy that rage. Especially since she didn't get the satisfaction of beating Todd more thoroughly herself, since Scott stepped in. Conversely, for the show canon, Wallace has a target on his back for the rest of her life, as far as she's concerned, even in a world where her feelings for Todd were just misunderstood- she considered him her best friend, and you don't get away with hurting her friends like that unless you're her.

3. I think I'd like to HC that some part of her regrets booting Scott from the band the way she did back in college? Maybe not immediately, or even soon, but I feel like sometimes she would think about him and their relationship as a whole and just feel bad, Idk. Like, she doesn't want to get back with him at all, but I could maybe see her offering to promote Shatterband (or Sex Bob-Omb, in the show,) or even play with him as a genuine apology instead of a coy trap somewhere down the line.

Knives Chau

1. Look... look I know I'm about to sound like a broken record... comp. het. lesbian or bi. HEAR ME OUT: her puppy dog love for Scott is really just that- something cute and innocent, but very intense, especially once he cuts her off in that honestly really brutal manner. Teenage heartbreak is messy- even if you feel like it was real, true love you had, you can often realize later in life that what you felt was just admiration, or something else innocuous like that. I think she reaffirms it to herself as a deep and true love because of how intense the pain of that breakup was, paired with everything that comes after, and I think the show really highlights that for me? Because in the show, with Scott out of the picture entirely, she's just a lot less intense about it. I think after playing music and hanging around his friends, she realizes she didn't really love him all that much, just thought he was a cool older guy and liked that he took an interest in her, even if she recognizes how wrong that was now. ((I probably have more articulate thoughts on this but I am really starting to feel the lack of pain meds so I need to get through this--))

2. Knives is really good at rhythm games and things like DDR or, when it's eventually released, Just Dance. Like, freakishly good. She picks them up just as well and just as quickly as she did her instruments.

3. With how quickly she picked up her instruments, she kinda gives me honor student vibes? Idk. I feel like it'd be a little stressful for her later on, because I do think her passionate drive for music makes her grades take a slight spin, but she just gives off that energy for me. Knives is a lot smarter than people give her credit for, I think, Idk.

... yes, I am very normal about media... spending 3 hours on 1 ask that offered me a lot more simplicity than I can apparently manage...

#asks #txt #kim pine #ramona flowers #roxie richter #lisa miller #Matthew Patel #scott pilgrim #wallace wells #envy adams #knives chau #i think i might have said this in the post but maybe i didnt or removed it- they're not necessarily ordered by like. most to least favorite #i just kinda chucked same names on there and went. debated starting some for lucas but i think my hands need a break- and my stomach a Snac #spto #sp comic #spvtw #headcanons #scott pilgrim takes off #scott pilgrim comic #scott pilgrim vs the world #potential spoilers for both the comics and the show i think?#if anyone wants this tagged w ship stuff for my little blurb under Kim lemme know #also I didn't include Roxie in the list of characters I think she likes but she should have been an honorable mention. i mostly had comic +#+ brain with that section #long post #woollyworm #demon hipster chicks #scott pilgrim headcanons

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frannyzooey · 2 years ago

Note

Those arms 👀 Those palms rubbing his eyes 🥺 Definitely need a drabble 😌

Weeknights Frankie x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

"Oh my god, I didn't think he would ever go to sleep," Frankie groans, letting himself fall back onto the couch.

"Him, or her?" you ask, joining him. "I think I read her like, four books or something."

"These dang kids." The statement is said quietly, laced with affection with his arm still thrown over his eyes and you smile, scooting closer to him on the couch.

"Getting too old for it, baby?"

He moves his arm, looking over at you. "Yea, I am." He says it seriously, following it with a quick grin and you lean in for a kiss. It starts as a chaste one, one meant to convey a wordless thank you for putting the baby down tonight, but his lips linger on yours for a fraction longer.

You break the kiss, pulling back with raised eyebrows and his eyes are hooded - both with exhaustion and emerging interest. He reaches for you, cupping your cheek to pull you back towards him.

"Where you going, baby?" he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours. "I'm not done yet."

"I don't know," you reply softly, meeting his mouth again, again. "I thought maybe you might be too tired or something."

"I'm never too tired for you." His voice has a husky rasp to it, his body shifting to guide you back down against the cushions and he follows you, settling his weight between your thighs. His mouth immediately seeks yours out, his hand reaching down to curl around the bend of your knee, tugging it higher on his hip. It then shifts upwards, spanning the side of your torso, sliding up, up, up until he palms your breast, playing with the peak of it through your shirt and bra.

His thumb catches against the nub, and he circles it slowly over and over. Until it pebbles through the cotton, until you're aching into his touch.

"This okay?" he breathes, his mouth moving to the line of your neck as his hand still teases. He knows you're more sensitive after the baby, sometimes touched out but you nod quickly, covering his large hand with your smaller one.

"Yea, it feels good."

He leaves it, moving to slide his hand underneath the hem of your shirt and when the warm weight of it settles over your breast after he tugs the cup of your bra down, you moan softly, bringing his mouth back to yours.

You are tired and so is he, but you can't stop kissing each other. Your bodies move as one on the couch, low sounds of contentment, of savor to match your higher pitched sighs and soon the shirt and bra are off, and his mouth has replaced his hand. He teases your nipple with his tongue, a mirror of what he usually does between your legs.

"We should go into the bedroom," you sigh, your fingers threading through his soft, dark curls and he hums, his tongue laving a stripe over your sweet skin. He latches onto your nipple, and you hiss in pleasure, your thumb fitting into the hollow of his whiskered cheek.

He pulls back to answer you, his eyes staying on the glistening, wet flesh of your breast. "I want to, but I'm scared to walk past their bedroom doors....what if they wake up?"

You laugh and he remains serious, which makes you laugh even harder. He eventually smiles, his dimple deep in his cheek.

"I'm serious, baby," he grins. "It took me so long, I had to sit and rock him for ages and he kept fussing and --"

You press your hand over his mouth, stopping him and he kisses the pads of your fingers, giving the crease of them a little lick. You giggle under him, and you see the edges of his eyes crinkle with a smile.

"Come on," he coaxes, leaning his face away from your hand to bend his head back down. His lips press delicate against the plane of your chest, against the swell of your breast, brushing against your collarbone. He breathes his next words warm into your ear.

"Just lemme eat your pussy on the couch, okay? Then I'll take you to bed."

You close your eyes with a frown, taking in a shaky breath and he gives you another kiss on the edge of your jaw, another just below your ear. He looks down at you for consent, his dark brown eyes with their beautiful, long lashes waiting.

You nod, and he grins, shifting slowly down.

#weeknights drabble #weeknights ask #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales/you #frankie morales/reader

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randaccidents · 8 months ago

Note

Alright I got another little headcanon

And it is too about Mind, hehe

The not main reason why Mind don't sleep is because he got Nightmares or just dreams about Heart

Why he doesn't like Nightmares is obvious, but the reason why it doesn't like dreams with Heart is because he just wish they were reality, and it kinda mess with him and it's hehe mind

(looks at this ask)

(digs around Google)

"Sleep deprivation can cause more intense dreaming"

(rubs hands together) tadssstrange my mutual you have simply given me MORE to play with. The hc is now canon to Heartless I accept no criticism.

Like like like lemme just lay out an idea, a scene for us. Fair tw for nightmares and unreliable EVERYTHING

(IT GOT REALLY LONG TOSSING IN A READ MORE, @tadssstrange YOU KEEP INSPIRING ME TO WRITE. FREE FOOD FOR YOU)

———————————

The first time he goes to sleep after Heart is brought home is 2 days after, because neither of them are willing to leave Heart unmonitored, and Mind insisted that he take the first shift.

He doesn't remember the first dream/nightmare, not fully. It is a mess of shapes and darkness and shadows and blood and the colours purple and blue. He just knows that he woke up with the crushing weight of confused guilt on his chest stealing his breath.

It takes him 3 days before he tries to sleep again. He knows he needs to sleep to remain efficient, and his vision has been fuzzing out all day. He hasn't told Soul why he was avoiding sleep, but the dread creeps in as he lays in bed.

This next nightmare is vivid, and he wakes up having physically thrown himself off the bed, screaming. It takes awhile to calm him down even with Soul's help. Is that what Heart felt? Is that what dying felt like? The feeling of falling and your very self dissolving? He scrubs his mechanical hands so hard that black flecks of nail polish line the sink. He swears he still sees purple-and-blue-tinted blood and fresh grave-dirt between the joints. He thinks he is more exhausted than before he slept, but he refuses to go back to that nightmare, and Soul doesn't fight him.

It takes 4 days this time. Soul had to physically wrestle him into bed and hold him down this time. He doesn't want to stop moving and allow the thoughts and the exhaustion to finally steal him. Soul is not giving him the option. He falls asleep crying.

The dream is kinder than the previous nightmares, and yet crueller than either. He doesn't want to wake from the nostalgia of Heart being his normal, annoying self, the dream not quite doing its job of making him forget reality. Watching Heart grin and read off a passage about axon dendrites with his blindfold on knowing how much Mind hates how unnatural it looks makes something clench deep in his chest, a feeling entirely different from the crush of guilt or the rush of determination. Mind wishes the dream had chosen a memory where Heart's eyes could be seen. He lets himself sink into the memory.

Eventually, the Heart in the dream reads a passage he never has in Mind's memories, a passage about dreams. The Heart that is not his looks up at him and asks him, "I'm not really here, am I? I am asleep, as are you. But you can wake up still, and you should. Wake up, Mind."

Mind wakes up quietly to wet cheeks and a painful squeeze in his chest. Soul is nowhere to be found. Sitting up and wiping his eyes, Mind can't decide if a dream was worse than a nightmare.

At least a nightmare had the courtesy to not use Heart's face.

#reply #Heartless AU #Heartless story #rand.writ #rand.hc #cccc au #cccc #chonnys charming chaos compendium #ksdjnfkjasd I went into a TRANCE there #that hc threw me into the intense desire to WRITE what it feels #like it hit me instantly with some IMAGES #free crumbs for you as a result #also I am ABSOLUTELY stealing that now #Heartless timeline

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galaxycunt · 8 months ago

Text

My Dinner With Buggy pt 2

I love playing with dialog so I figured why not keep going. As with part one it’s all dialogue so enjoy the ride everyone lol

Tagging @gingernut1314 @gayafsatan as yall requested a part 2 a million years ago

Sea spray hits your face as you left the restaurant, “so, what’s the move?”

Hands appear in front of you holding two bottles of wine, “one for each of us.”

“Really? In front of a lieutenant like that?”

“You gonna handcuff me, officer?”

You giggle, “miss Impel Down that much, huh?”

“God! Let’s not talk about that fucked up place. Take the wine, honey.”

“I let you order steak and this is how you repay me?”

He wags his tongue, “I’m covering dessert.”

“Gross.”

“You love it, shut up. So where’s this room you got?”

“Couple blocks down. You don’t wanna go to a bar?”

“I haven’t seen you in at least 6 years. I wanna make up for lost time.”

“Tch. Shooting for the stars tonight?”

Buggy frowns, “I thought this was a date.”

You falter, “hey. I thought we were teasing. Come here, Bug.”

Your lips taste sweet, “I missed you a lot. I’m not the only salty dog missing their lost love, but hey, you’re more important, so there.”

You kiss him again, “let’s go out for a little bit?”

“Sure, I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go. Oh shit! I forgot, I left something for you on the ship.”

“We got road wine, let’s go get it”

“This is nice, by the way.”

“It is. Too bad you ain’t a civ, easier. Even easier if you were a marine.”

“I’m gonna ask again. You’d like it.”

“I dunno, man. Lot of baggage with that. Especially on the Grand Line.”

“Not with me.”

“You already got captured once, baby.”

“I know, I know. But you hate this shit. Been in the game too long, why?”

“I dunno, maybe I felt we were doing something good. Too old for that shit, I guess”, the Big Top is as nice as you remember it, “there’s the old girl.”

He smiles, “my two girls, together at last.”

“I wonder if that note I left is still there.”

“Note? What-“

“-captain! Oh shit, look who it is!”

“-Cabaji! Glad someone’s keeping Bug outta trouble!”

He smiles at the two of you, “we should catch up. Later.”

“Thanks, man. See ya.”

“So what note?”

“Oh! It’s uh, not important. Just something I wrote last time I was here.”

“Where’d you hide it?”

“In the galley, deep, deep in the pantry.”

He kisses you, “let’s go find it then.”

“Buggy, no. Come on, you’re supposed to take me out.”

“Real quick. I promise.”

You tug him away, to no avail, “Buggy. It’s really stupid, you’ll enjoy it after a few drinks.”

“I got a few bottles in my room. We can read it there.”

“What about my gift?”

“Just a buncha jewelry, who cares? I’m finding that letter.”

Turns out he can find anything with ease if he wanted to, “aw. Your handwriting is so cute sometimes.”

“Oh, shut up.”

He kisses your temple, he’s getting very touchy, you realize, “lemme guess, treasure map?”

“Look, it’s something I wrote when we were like 18.”

“….really?”

“Uh huh.”

He jerks his chin toward his cabin, “let’s take this somewhere quiet.”

You hear your heart beat in your ears, cheeks on fire, “it’s really cringey. I was 18.”

“Do you really not want me to read it?”

“You’ll make fun of me.”

“I won’t. I really won’t.”

“Okay.”

“I already know you love me.”

You laugh, “shit. Guess you’re right.”

He clears his throat, “Buggy, our paths are unwinding, the red string of fate tugging us apart.”

“Oh Jesus, it’s worse than I thought.”

Heightening his voice he continues, “if only I knew the devil’s pact I made, and the one you sold your soul to. My love I can’t bear it. You don’t even know I love you.”

“See, that’s why I didn’t wanna read it.”

“So why even give it to me?”

“Because I didn’t think you loved me.”

He grows serious, “I did. Why did you think I did that stupid shit? To impress you, dummy.”

“You’re such a clown.”

“Exactly! You liked clowns.”

You smile, “yeah, I remember that asshole at the pier.”

“Join my crew, I’ll marry ya.”

“Only if I join?”

“We been apart too long, I’m not waiting until I hit some shitty village every six months to see you.”

“Ah, that makes sense now.”

“Sometimes I’d lower the Jolly Roger, just see if our boats can pass by, if I can see you on the deck.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah.”

You stare at his lips, you wouldn’t be the only Marine turning, “marry me tonight then.”

“Don’t think captains can officiate their own wedding.”

“Let’s find someone.”

He looks at the clock, “and if we can’t?”

“Ask me again tomorrow. Do it for real.”

Buggy picks you up instead, “can we just skip to the wedding night?”

“I’m not gonna marry you then.”

He smirks, “according to that letter, we’ve been married for 18 years already.”

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x you #one piece

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readyplayerhobi · 2 years ago

Text

Because, I Love You | 09

; Genre: Mild angst

; Word Count: 3k

; Synopsis: According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks then.

; A/N: Sorry it’s taken so long! This one is from JK’s POV...and we’ll get to see his oh so lovely mom once more! Lemme know what you think by leaving a comment or sending an ask, and please reblog this so more people will get the chance to see it. I’d love to know what you think, and thanks for reading!

; Masterlist

Jungkook: I love you

Y/N: I love you? Where did that come from?

Jungkook: Just…wanted to say. Trying to remember that I love my mom too

Y/N: Oh dear

Y/N: What's she done?

Jungkook: I'll tell you later

He knew he couldn't tell you that his mom had invited his high school girlfriend to dinner without his knowledge. You might find it funny, but he was protective of you. The last thing Jungkook wanted was for you to feel hurt, which was silly because you were a grown woman who was even older than him. As you’d told him many times previously - you could take care of yourself. But his mom was his family, which made her his problem. Especially when she was so blatantly against him dating you.

It wasn’t something he’d had to consider previously, said high-school girlfriend had been the only one who’d ever met his parents. And, of course, they’d loved her. Probably because they were both young and innocent, with no real risk of him doing what his mom didn’t want, given he’d been only a teenager.

He’d come to dinner today at the request of his mom, and he’d been the one to suggest that you stay home. The last few times you’d both interacted had been enough to give him a headache, and he didn’t want to put you through any more of her snide comments. They weren’t even sly, some of them were just plain rude.

It had been a few months now since he’d moved out of his parent's house, so he’d just assumed that they were missing him a bit. They’d done the same when his older brother had moved out, so he’d agreed to come tonight to appease them. He should have known something was wrong when his mom had looked around him when he’d come in, the frown on her face unexpected.

And then he’d walked into the living room to see Ji-woo, the girl he’d dated throughout high school. His first love. The girl he’d broken up with because they were going to college across the country from each other, and neither wanted to limit the other. They’d made a promise to meet up again after college, and if there was still a spark then they’d try again as adults, older and wiser.

He’d forgotten all about it until his mom had started bringing it up a few weeks ago. Jungkook had ignored her, thinking she was just reminiscing in yet another particularly callous way. Now, he knew why she’d brought it up.

“Is there something wrong, Jungkook? You know I don’t like phones at the table.” His mom tuts, shaking her head at him admonishingly before scooping some spiced rice onto her spoon. If he wasn’t looking closely at her, then he wouldn’t notice the twitching of her left eye. But he is, and he does see it.

She’s annoyed at him, that he’s texting at the dinner table. No, that’s wrong, it’s not that he’s texting. It’s that she knows who he’s texting.

Sighing deeply, he lets his head fall forward slightly and wonders how it had managed to get to this point. Why was his mom so against you? You were the sweetest, kindest and funniest person he knew. The absolute light of his damn life at the moment. He’d never loved someone so much in his life, he wasn’t even sure if it was normal how much he loved you.

The sight of you made his chest ache sometimes, and the sound of your voice made him smile instantly. You were the love of his life, but also his best friend. He genuinely couldn’t imagine life without you anymore, which might sound a bit extreme. So he was still in the honeymoon phase of the relationship, sue him, which made it all the more painful that his mom hated you.

Why couldn’t she see the beautiful, smart and kind woman that you were? The woman who brightened his day just by existing?

For God’s sake, he’d read enough Reddit threads to know that this type of scenario often broke relationships. He didn’t want to be the mommy’s boy who couldn’t see the damage his mom was doing to his relationship, to his life. But he also didn’t want to cut his mom out of his life.

He loved his mom, too. Even if it was hard to remember that right now.

“Did you know that Ji-woo is in med-school now? She’s aiming to be a paediatrician.” His mom says with a bright smile, looking over at his ex with genuine happiness. Ji-woo looks back with a shy smile, bowing her head to hide her face from his mom’s praise. She’d always been sweet and humble, so it wasn’t surprising that she wasn’t flaunting her achievements right now.

“Oh, that’s cool. Well done, you always said you wanted to be a doctor. I’m glad it’s working out for you.” Jungkook says politely, not wanting to come off as an asshole. He has no ill will towards her, and he certainly doesn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable once she realises that she’s being a pawn in whatever fucked up game his mom is playing. But he also doesn’t want to make it seem like he’s interested.

Because he’s not.

“Thanks, I wasn’t sure I was going to get into med school after college. I came back once I graduated and…well I delayed a year before applying. Took some time to decide what I truly wanted and…here I am.” Ji-woo smiles at him, and he takes a moment to look over her face more carefully. It’s been years since he’s last seen her, and he marvels at how she’s grown into her face and her body in that time.

No doubt it’s the same for her when it comes to him. But there’s a difference between them both. He can practically see the subtle hope in her, that he’ll finally come back and make good on his promise. Jungkook knew that she was interested in him, he’d seen the way she’d looked him up and down, focusing on his tattoos and his face. A new interest - he sincerely doubted she was still in love with him after all this time.

Or, he hoped so anyway.

“Well, I’m glad it’s working out for you.” Jungkook said politely, filling his mouth with curried chicken to avoid having to talk more. Didn’t work, of course.

“Your mom said you’d gone into video games, right? An animator? That’s really cool, you always were really passionate about games.” There’s an awkward pause as Jungkook gives her a neutral smile, before turning his gaze over to his mom. Narrowing his eyes at her, and wondering how long she’d been in contact with his ex.

He didn’t even want to think about what she’d been feeding Ji-woo, and he scowled at his glass of water. Why did she always have to be messing around like this? She was just making his life complicated at this point.

“Yeah, that’s right. Moved companies a few months ago. It’s not nearly as interesting as it looks, trust me. This is really nice, mom. Did you see it on one of those Facebook recipe pages again?” He asks, trying to deflect the conversation away from himself. Jungkook felt awful, but he just didn’t want to talk to Ji-woo, especially about himself.

“Oh, it’s from Ji-woo’s mom! We’ve been talking a lot lately and reminiscing about when you were both teenagers, and how cute you were together. She’s been experimenting with food lately and swore this was something she thought you’d like. I’ll let her know that you enjoyed it, she’ll be so happy.” His mom smiles brightly at him, before looking over at Ji-woo and giving her the same bright smile.

Jungkook just grips his fork even tighter as he internally curses. She was talking with Ji-woo’s mom, and about the past?! For fuck’s sake, he couldn’t deal with this. All this goddamn meddling, was she trying to piss him off and alienate him?

Something about his expression must have given away his feelings, and his dad had obviously picked up on it as he clears his throat. It almost makes Jungkook laugh at how clearly awkward he looks, but he appreciates the attention being taken away from him. His dad knows how tense things are between him and his mom, alongside his mom clearly doesn’t like you. Jungkook feels sorry for how his dad has to feel like he needs to act as an intermediary between everyone, though he is thankful for it.

“It is good, dear. Make sure to eat up, Jungkook, otherwise your mom will chew my ear off later about you not eating well. I’ve put some of the leftovers into a tub for you to take back to Y/N, as well. I’m sure she’ll like it, too.”

Jungkook swears he can feel the air freeze in the room at his dad’s words. His mom glares at him, her lips pressing together and cheeks flushing slightly. It makes Jungkook’s hands go clammy at the sight, knowing that she’s angry. He never liked it when his mom was angry.

“I will, she’ll love it. Let me just text her and let her know not to make anything for dinner. Thanks, dad.” He smiles at his dad, nodding slightly and noting the slight nod in return. It’s not lost on him that his son’s girlfriend isn’t here and his high school ex-girlfriend is, nor that his wife has been chatting up said ex-girlfriend’s mom.

Glancing back across the table, Ji-woo looks exceptionally awkward as she eats a piece of broccoli slowly. Any sense of pleasure he had at seeing his dad taking his side disappears as he remembers how she’s just being a pawn in his mom’s shitty game. It wasn’t her fault this was happening, and Jungkook felt guilty for her being stuck here.

He looks directly at her and gives her a reassuring smile.

“Sorry, Y/N is my girlfriend. She was busy so couldn’t make it tonight.” He tries to say it in a friendly tone, keeping his voice light to not make it seem like he’s rubbing it in. If his mom is any indication lately, he wouldn’t have put it past her to make up that he was wanting some kind of star-crossed lovers reunion.

Sure enough, Ji-woo looks startled at his words and she glances at his mom. There’s a slight quiver in the hand holding her spoon, and Jungkook remembers her facial expressions well enough to recognise the signs of hurt. Dammit, he didn’t want to hurt her, even if he also didn’t want anything to do with her anymore.

“She wasn’t invited anyway,” His mom says, her voice surprisingly simple compared to her cruel words. “I was hoping this might spur something between you both if I’m being honest. But that’s clearly ruined now.”

“Mom!” Jungkook blurts out, his eyes widening in shock at how blatantly rude she’s being. She ignores him, though, and just glares at his dad. Wincing slightly, Jungkook knows that he’s in for a tough time tonight for ruining her carefully laid plans. Though what she thought was going to happen, is beyond him.

Did she think he’d meet his ex and just break up with you instantly? Maybe she thought that he’d cheat on you or something. Whatever she thought, she was clearly out of her damn mind.

“Mom, stop it,” Jungkook looks over at Ji-woo and gives her a strained smile, shrugging slightly. “I’m really sorry, Ji-woo. I didn’t even know you were gonna be here. I’m so sorry, I can’t even imagine how awkward this must be for you. In case it wasn’t obvious, my mom doesn’t like my girlfriend, though I didn’t think she’d do this.”

Now he looks back at his mom and glares, shaking his head in disgust.

“Seriously? I was willing to leave tonight and just try to forget whatever the hell this was, but not now. Not when you’re being so damn mean. I love you, mom, but I don’t love this version of you.” Standing, Jungkook takes his plate and stalks into the kitchen.

The Tupperware of leftovers that his dad had made was cooling on the side, its lid not fully closed to let it cool quicker. Glaring at it, which was stupid because it wasn’t like it had done anything to him. It’s just the principle of it all, and he needs someone to be angry at right now. Or something, rather.

Scraping the remnants of his dinner into the bin, and cursing the fact that he’d only eaten half of it, he doesn’t even hear the footsteps as they come into the kitchen.

“Jeon Jungkook, you are being very rude right now. There is no need for you to be acting like this, you’re a grown adult. I thought it would be nice for you and Ji-woo to catch up, you were so good together in high school and she’s doing so well in life, right now. Her mom thinks highly of you, too.” His mom has no sense of self-preservation, though he can’t exactly blame her. He’d always been the pinnacle of a good boy whilst growing up, so she’d never really experienced him being angry or annoyed.

Clenching his jaw, he ignores her as he moves past and heads over to the sink. It’s ridiculous that he’s stood here, washing his damn plate whilst his mom gives him whatever version of a self-righteous talk she’s conjured up to justify her behaviour. But he knows that if he just leaves without cleaning the damn thing, then she’ll just use it against him. At least this way, she won’t be able to hold this over his head.

He’s being a good son, even if she’s not being a good mom right now.

“Jungkook! Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Placing the dish on the drying rack, he wipes his hands clean before letting them rest on the counter and lowers his head. He loves his mom, he does.

“Mom, please stop. Just…please. I don’t want to argue right now. Hell, I don’t want to argue full stop. Just…I’m going home. Don’t say anything, don’t try to convince me to stay or anything.” Turning around, he looks down at her and shakes his head in disappointment.

“Jungkook, wait.” She reaches out, her palm towards him and he avoids her touch before skirting around her. Grabbing the Tupperware, he locks it before heading out the door and to the hallway. He’s in the process of shoving his feet into his shoes, his jacket already on when Ji-woo shuffles in from the dining room. She looks so awkward that he almost wants to hug her, just to make her feel a bit more comfortable. But that would be a dumb thing to do.

“I’m sorry you’ve been dragged into this. I’m happy you’re doing well, and that you’re in med school and all that, I am. I’m sorry we didn’t keep our promise after college, and I’m sorry for whatever my mom has told you. I don’t know what that is, but I can guess. I have a girlfriend, we’ve been together for over a year and we live together now. My mom doesn’t like her, because…I don’t know. She’s not a bad person, she’s my favourite person and I love her. I’m sorry you’ve ended up in the middle of all this, I can only imagine what my mom was thinking was gonna happen. I hope you don’t take this personally, but as nice as it was to see you…I hope I don’t see you again. Not because I don’t like you, but…it’s too awkward and clearly, my mom will not be able to act normal if we became friends again.” He trails off, feeling unsure of what else to say to get across his feelings.

Jungkook doesn’t want to hurt Ji-woo, but he doesn’t want to give her whatever false hope his mom has been whispering into her ear. She deserves a lot better than whatever shit show was going on here.

For a moment, Ji-woo says nothing. Standing awkwardly with her shoulders hunched and one hand on her elbow, he feels even worse about this whole situation. Which is ridiculous, because he didn’t engineer it.

But then she surprises him by taking a deep breath and straightening her shoulders, tilting her head up and giving him a small smile. Any traces of that teenage girl he’d once loved are gone, and he’s glad to see confidence in her. He did love her at one point, after all.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry for…well, being a part of this. I’m clearly in the middle of something and I don’t want to be. I had no idea you have a girlfriend, and I would never want to try and lead you on. You were always loyal, and I can only imagine how great she is if you’re serious about her. I hope you’re happy.” Moving towards him, she reaches out and rests a hand on his arm. There’s nothing weird about it, and he lets her do it.

“Thanks…I hope you are too. It was nice, if awkward, to see you again.” He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck before smiling and grabbing the Tupperware.

The sight of his mom coming down the hall makes him rush out the door, unlock his car and jump into it as fast as he can. It’s not lost on him that this is your car, given you’d been blocking him in on the driveway.

Jungkook wasn’t sure if you were going to laugh at this whole situation when he tells you, or roll your eyes. Maybe you’d even get angry. At the very least, he’s got some curry to bribe you with.

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