#the only thing is if they have a security cam and they can see my dads license plate | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

split-spectrum · 10 months ago

Text

Heat Sick

Pairing: Obi Wan/FemReader

Length: 3.5K (One-off)

Warnings/Tags: explicit sexual content - minors DNI. noncon elements including nonconsensual voyeurism, master/padawan kink, age gap (no ages expressly mentioned and no description of reader), power imbalance, masturbation, angst, guilt kink

Description: While on a mission with your master to uncover an assassination plot, you forget to turn off your security cam. Obi Wan sees more than he's ready to confront, and feels more than he's ready to withstand.

☆☆☆

"We will discuss this later."

"Master, can we not trade one more day of the war for this? Just one day?"

Obi Wan lets his eyes widen as he turns to face you in disbelief. "Young one, the decision is not ours to make. The sooner you learn that and make peace with it, the better."

"Perhaps I could stay behind. Just me. I could ask the council-"

He nods to the ambassador and stands, lowering his tone to you as the rest of the room leaves. "You will pack your things, and we will be on our way tomorrow."

As you follow him down the hall to your respective rooms, Obi Wan makes a concerted effort to keep his shoulders low and his pace steady. Letting his irritation show would do no good for either of you.

No - he thinks - not quite irritation. It stings more than that.

You've been ready for the trials for some time, and the only thing keeping you from completing them is your overloaded schedule of assignments. You aren't yet a knight, though you both know that you likely would be, if not for the war.

But until then, where he goes, you go. And to defy that - to defy him by contacting the council for reassignment... he'd never expected you to go so far.

"Forgive me, Master," you mumble behind him, clearly not sorry. "I- I just want to help these people, and it doesn't seem like anyone besides me can see the extent of their issues."

Obi Wan suppresses any semblance of feelings, turning to face you when he reaches his door. "Perhaps that is true. Let us... let us agree that it is. What then? Are you prepared to stay here indefinitely?"

You fall silent, gazing up at him with those blasted, soulful eyes of yours. Those eyes can simply bowl him over whenever you please. It just isn't fair.

He sighs. "The council sent us here to uncover the assassination plot against the Toydarian king, and we have done our duty. We could spend a lifetime on any planet if we concerned ourselves with internal politics."

"This isn't just internal politics," you insist. "Another attempt on the king's life is almost inevitable, because we haven't rooted out the underlying problems."

Your face is so solemn, he has to force himself to take a beat before answering too flippantly. "Let us hope it happens in the distant future."

"Master, I'm being serious."

"As am I, Padawan." He hits the last word with a little more emphasis than needed. "As I have told you time and time again, we must learn to choose our battles. We have won the day. Now we must move on to where we are needed most."

Your brows pinch tight. "And I suppose we just hope the Toydarians can last until the end of the war without falling into a civil war of their own."

"Indeed, let us both hope so."

You'd clearly expected another answer; had wanted a longer argument. Your mouth falls open in indigance, but nothing comes out.

You turn and stalk away, and Obi Wan heaves another sigh as he enters his temporary quarters. There is nothing he can do to make you see reason when you're like this. The only thing he can give you is time.

Which is why a few hours later, your knock at the door is expected, but still welcome.

"Master?"

Obi Wan ends his meditation and answers the door, finding you standing rigidly behind it, clearly making an effort to keep eye contact.

"Come in," he ushers you, stepping to the side.

You look at the floor, then back to him as you enter. Your voice is soft and low. "I... wanted to apologize for my behavior... earlier."

Obi Wan lifts his eyebrows, but holds back his words, for now. He's already forgiven you, perhaps too quickly. Perhaps you know that.

"I just feel so... frustrated lately, with all these short, temporary assignments. It doesn't feel like we're making a difference at all."

He nods, gesturing for you to join him in sitting on the end of his bed. "I understand your need to help others. But we must not allow our fleeting feelings to blind us to the greater picture. We are a part of an order. You must never forget that."

Your stare is fixed on your lap, and you nod. "I know. I know."

"Letting go in order to focus on the greater good is not always an easy thing. But you will learn." He allows a small smile. "I have faith."

Your eyes sparkle when you finally look back up at him, and Obi Wan swallows, forcing himself to keep his smile in place before he looks away. It stirs something within him when you hold him in your gaze like that, as if he'd hung the stars themselves. Reminds him why it is best that you complete your trials and leave his side.

"I'm... sorry I mentioned a reassignment. I wasn't thinking clearly. My place is with you, Master. I don't want to be anywhere else."

Your earnestness sends a little wave of warmth through him, and Obi Wan quickly tamps it down, reaching for your clasped hands on your lap. He pats your hand gently. "I... appreciate that very much. But your place will not be here much longer."

You give him a wry little smile. "That's true. I suppose I should use my opportunities to disobey you sparingly, or you may not speak to me anymore after I'm knighted."

He returns your smile. "You won't be rid of me so easily. Not when I'm expected to use the new graphic software for mission reports."

He enjoys the way your lightened gaze slides over to him, lips splitting into a full grin. He knew that would get a rise out of you - you hate it when he asks you to help him with his datapad.

"On second thought, maybe I should transfer to a new quadrant as soon as possible."

Obi Wan laughs again, patting your leg this time. His big hand rests on your thigh a little longer than it should, and he draws it back, clearing his throat.

"I..." Your softened voice fills the silence. "I suppose I'll also need to get used to calling you Obi Wan."

Hearing his name in your mouth sends another little ripple of warmth just where it shouldn't be - right between his ribs. He steadies his thoughts.

"Let's agree to hold off until the trials, shall we?"

He hopes you hear it as a brush-off; a simple reassertion of your relationship, and that you don't hear the way his voice is pulled tight.

You grant him mercy, standing to face him again. "As you wish, Master," you answer. "Thank you for accepting my apology."

Obi Wan shakes his head. "There is nothing to forgive. Caring for those around you is no weakness. Now, get some rest."

You bow your head respectfully as he sends you on your way, and Obi Wan closes the door behind you. He rests his palm flat against the cool durasteel of the closed door, standing still for a moment.

The way his words no longer come easily in your presence, he knows he should be pushing you toward the trials as quickly as he can.

But that's another issue, for another day. Right now, he should be taking his own advice and getting some rest.

He crosses the room, removing his outer robe and hanging it in a nearby closet. Finding the light control panel and clicking off the remaining lights, he turns to look back at his bed and frowns. There's still light emanating from a small screen at his bedside. Then he watches as the image of you moves across the screen.

Oh. Right. The security cams.

Each of your rooms had been equipped with them when you'd moved into the palace a week ago. It's a closed circuit, meaning that you can only view one another. There had been some other channels available, including the king's chamber and other important locations. Those have been shut off since the investigation concluded. The cams in each of your rooms were only meant to be used when you were gone, to secure your living quarters when you weren't using them. Evidently, you'd forgotten to turn yours off - probably because you'd come back to your quarters in such a huff earlier.

Obi Wan walks over to the screen, ready to shut it off, but finds himself standing there, lingering. Hand at the ready, but never quite pressing the button.

You shrug out of your heavy outer robe and hang it over the back of a chair, your movements graceful and slow. Bracelets slide from your wrist down your forearm, and although there's no sound with the image, he can practically hear the way they jangle together. Those blasted pieces of jewelry - he's told you a thousand times not to wear them, but you keep them tucked under the sleeve of your robe anyway. Probably stuffed into the fabric so they don't make a sound.

His hand comes back to his side, watching as you admire them while taking each one off. They aren't practical. They could catch on something during a fight. But they'd been given to you by a friend, and you'd stubbornly held onto them. And if he's being honest, they are beautiful.

Beautiful.

The word hangs in his mind.

He clears his throat, refocusing on the idea that he should work to accept that there are some things he was able to train out of you, and some things that remain a part of who you are. Now that you're moving on, no longer his padawan, he needs to force himself to view you differently.

He watches as you put away your bracelets, packing them with the rest of your clothing. After another moment, he lifts a hand to the button again. Any longer and he'll be infringing on your privacy. He just... wanted to take a moment to reminisce.

He continues to reminisce while you're bending down to roll out your night clothes, and he can see down the front of your-

Click.

His breathing is unsteady.

The blank, darkened screen stares back at him. Every one of his nerve endings feels like they've been dipped in molten lava.

He's never done anything so improper.

You are his padawan.

His padawan. He leans into the word, branding it into his mind, with all that it encompasses. All the expectations and the prohibitions. All the sleepless nights and grueling days he's spent committing himself to you; to do right by you.

He's let this thing, this fascination, fester within him for far too long. Lingering looks, over time, have become a habit. And just now, the habit has been unspooled in front of him, spilling out like thread from a cut cloth. He'd never realized it had become this much a part of him. Not until just now, when his gaze didn't have to turn away. When it could run rampant with no consequences.

It fills him with a sort of dread. As if his feet are on a path he knows he can't turn from. No, indeed - he's already on it. Just by not moving from this spot in front of the screen, he's already taken the first steps.

He feels like every muscle in his body is taught, ready to snap. This moment could be so easy to resist, if he knew it would happen again. If this weren't the one time he would ever, ever have the chance to see you - really see you, without hiding his desire. Without the chance of you knowing. Without the need to control himself.

Click.

You've taken off your tunic, spreading it flat to roll it up. All you're wearing are your leggings and a thin undershirt that wraps tightly around your stomach and hangs loosely at the top. When you bend to roll the tunic up, his eyes are unable to tear away from the screen. The dark crevice where your shirt falls open draws him in, dangerously close to revealing more. His eyes are fixated on it. Pleading for it to spare him and stay in place. Pleading for it to slip.

He drinks in the features of your face. Your relaxed expression. The curve of your jaw. The length of your neck.

How many times has he imagined it - brushing a knuckle along the nape of your neck, just to feel your warmth. The thrill that would run through him as you might look up at him with wide, confused eyes. A shudder runs through him, filling him with unwelcome heat.

He's been on enough desert planets to experience heat sickness. The way it courses through the body in nauseating waves. Making him jittery, uneasy. Shaking with the feeling of wanting to burst, yet knowing there's nothing he can do to fight it. He could not beg the suns for mercy. The only thing he could do was let the sickness crawl through his veins, poisoning him slowly until he lost all sense. And hope he could come back to himself when it was all over.

You finish folding and turn around to unclasp the front of your leggings.

Obi Wan sits, the soft edge of his bed catching him.

He can feel his heartbeat in his throat as you seem to take an eternity to slowly slide the pants over the curve of your ass, exposing skin he's never seen before. Even in the smallest of your training clothes, he's never seen the full, soft cheeks of your ass on display like this. He sucks in a breath, eyes dancing over every inch.

You step out of the leggings, bending at the knees to pick them up, and he watches the arch of your back, the sway of your hips. When you put away your leggings, he considers it a blessing that you're behind a table, yet still feels the pull of frustration - waiting, waiting, waiting for you to step back into view.

When at last you do, your hands slip down to your sides and you turn to face the cam again, showing him the smooth skin of your stomach as your shirt lifts up.

"Stars, help me," Obi Wan whispers, unblinking.

But you're walking back and forth as you undress, and at the moment his breath hitches, you turn away again, and he sees nothing but your back. You stride across the room, completely at ease, and just as you enter the doorframe of the refresher next to your room, your fingers lazily slip under the waistband of some sort of obscenely delicate fabric, peeling your underwear down your body.

Obi Wan has to stifle a soft moan, imagining his own larger, rougher hands in place of yours, dragging the lacey thing down your legs to the floor.

You step out of them, and at a distance that's quite blurry, he can just see the soft bounce of your breasts from the side. His mouth is slackened, watching you walk away from the cam and into the next room.

His chest is tight. He shifts uncomfortably in the bed to reposition. He can feel the thrum of his own flushed face, can feel his pulse between his legs.

When you come out of the other room, you're clothed - just barely. You've put on a silky little slip. It's practically see-through. It might be worse than seeing you with no clothes at all. The slip itself is almost painfully innocent. No lace or adornments. A simple, soft garment worn for your comfort in bed. Nothing more.

The idea sends another shameful jolt through him, at watching you like this. Then he catches sight of the small pod in your hand. When you draw up one of your legs onto the bed and take off the lid of the pod to swipe your fingers through it, he realizes that it's a salve or lotion of some sort. A new level of agony overtakes him as you slide the lotion over your leg, rubbing in soft circles over your skin. Each time you lean forward to rub another circle, your slip rides up to show a teasing glimpse of your ass.

Obi Wan follows your every movement, feeling his gaze go glassy, heavy, and lost. The ache throbbing between his legs seems to thrum in time with your entrancing, repetitive movements. You start on the other leg, and when you bend forward this time, he groans into his fist, seeing even more.

Almost absently, he palms down his straining erection through his clothes. His eyes flutter shut at the feeling, and then snap open again to watch as you drop your leg, smoothing the lotion over your arms and neck, then sliding your hands around your breasts. You may as well be wearing nothing, the way he can see your fingers working beneath the fabric, squeezing the soft skin and teasing delicately over your own nipples.

His lower lip juts forward when his mouth falls open, and Obi Wan bares his teeth as if that will help him. As if the futile gesture of his struggle will somehow stop the way his hand is rubbing himself. As if it will keep him from tearing his off clothes as he watches you touch yourself.

Your hands slowly work their way down to your stomach, then down the lengths of each of your arms, and you finally put the lotion away. You dim the lights, but the picture is still fortunately - cursedly - clear enough that he can see every curve of your body as you climb into bed. You pull back the covers, and Obi Wan's palm presses hard into his lap and stills.

"Oh, darling, no..." he murmurs as you crawl forward, giving him a clear view of your perfect, glistening center. You're a little wet, and he feels himself losing a small piece of his sanity trying to imagine why you might be.

Once you're in bed, lying on your side, the light from the next room bathes your face in an ethereal glow so that he can see your every expression clearly, though your body is a little shrouded by the blankets piled at your feet.

He can, however, with the way you're angled, see right between your legs.

Hands trembling, he unceremoniously yanks down his pants to wrap a palm around himself, letting out a short gasp at the relief.

Your perfect pussy, bared just for him. He curses under his breath as he drinks in the sight of you, knowing he'll only last a few moments and squeezing himself, trying to draw out the moments as long as possible.

Obi Wan's heated gaze ratchets upward when he notices you yawn - soft, sweet and pure.

Entranced by the way your lower lip is hanging open, he imagines what it would feel like to shove two fingers into your warm, wet mouth. The image makes his cock twitch in his hand, and he imagines that going in next.

He admits it - he wishes he were there with you. Right now. Standing over your bed and looking into your big, luminous, trusting, tear-blurred eyes and shoving his cock into your lovely little mouth.

He wants to run a finger along the folds of your pussy until you soak his hand, and then he wants to ease your legs apart and tease circles around your swollen clit until you're babbling with pleasure. He wants you in every way. Stars save him - he wants to fuck you.

The thought makes him grunt low in his throat, and he tightens his grip. He's disgusted with himself, grinding into his own fist as if he could wring the very thought out of his body.

His padawan, bent over her bed, legs spread for him. His heavy palms on her waist, holding her perfect body, her skin too young and smooth for his calloused hands. Her pussy engulfing his dick, making him cry out her name with every thrust.

With every harsh tug of his pulsing, drooling cock, he's more damned. But he can't stop. Can't think of anything but you. His whole mind - his whole being - is concentrated on nothing but you, and how much he wants to paint your stomach, your face, your cunt with the cum that's about to shoot all over his hand.

He watches as you roll to your other side, tits nearly spilling out of your bedclothes, and imagines the way they would feel under his hands. The way you would bounce under your clothes as he ravaged you, coating his dick in your slippery, soft, innocent little cunt, taking absolutely everything he'd ever wanted.

And Obi Wan explodes, trying to block what he can, but failing miserably and covering his hand and the screen with ropes of hot, white mess. He chokes back a groan, forcing himself not to wake half the palace and grunts quietly into the arm of his tunic as he finishes soaking the bed and himself in his own seed.

He pants, watching the mess dripping over your warm, clean, clothed form on the screen. His mouth is hanging open, and he closes it to swallow.

Your eyes are shut, expression peaceful. You've fallen asleep.

He's shaking and sweating, staring at your beautiful face when the shame overcomes him.

The worst thing about heat sickness - once it takes you, even if you slake your thirst, even if you cool your brow, even if your pulse stops pounding for the moment - it will inevitably happen again.

A/N: Shoutout to @slinkygail who kindly encouraged me to work on my WIPs! 💜

And thank you as always to everyone who reads. Hope you liked this one-off. :) It's been bouncing around my drafts for a while. A situation I don't believe for one second that Obi Wan would actually find himself in, but was absolutely necessary to indulge myself.

#obi wan x reader #star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfic #obi wan kenobi × reader #obi wan x reader smut #obi wan kenobi x reader

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veebeeboo109 · 3 months ago

Text

Cleaning up the Timeline

{The boys have a meeting. Sylus *thanks* Zayne. Xavier takes a nap. You and Sylus go and get your bike.}

Read on ao3.

Tags: Reader/L&DS Men, Romance, Maid AU, Sylus x Zayne in this one, Possessive Behavior, NS!FW

Chapter 8: Joyride

Zayne doesn’t mean to be, but he’s a liar sometimes. His role at the hospital makes him a liar, and his promise of being home for supper is overwritten by a quick consult that turned into emergency surgery.

Sylus watches you deflate like a sad party balloon when you read the message. The rosy-hued air that’d been following you around since you came home dimmed just a bit. If your demeanor wasn’t evidence enough that something salacious had occurred during your appointment, then the little red mark on your neck surely was.

When you’d first walked in, Sylus had been lounging on the couch, browsing through some reports Mephisto had compiled for him– which he promptly closed when he saw you. No good for you to see surveillance footage with your face on it. That would surely put a damper on things.

Especially when you walked in practically bouncing in place; skipping like a schoolgirl and bubbling like effervescent champagne. You were practically humming like a Disney princess when you greeted him, asking about his day and if he wanted some lunch.

Sylus watches you from the couch, and spies the little red mark on the right side of your neck– right over your carotid, of course Zayne would put one there– and as you busy yourself in the kitchen, Sylus watches it bloom into a proper bruise. Deepening into a deeper, violet hue.

It’s a gorgeous color. His favorite color. The deep blue-violet of a bruise made with his teeth, or the raspberry red of your ass when Rafayel or Xavier got a little too excited.

You hand him a small plate with a toasted sandwich on top, and Sylus finds himself a little….stunned. It feels wrong to make you cook and clean for them, but Zayne had insisted it was the only way, and stopped Sylus from hiring a cook and another housekeeper behind your back.

“Thank you,” You say a little bashfully, “For the gift.”

Sylus goes to the barstools and sets his plate down, “Ah, you got it then?”

You nod, “It’s a little extravagant, don’t you think? And I could do without the charm.”

Sylus glances down at your waist and then cocks his head to the side, “You got my gift, but I don’t see it. And, the charm is the whole point.”

“Is it?” You ask with a laugh, and the melody of it hits him square in the chest. It’s been a long time since he’s heard you laugh– and all his memories of it are so faded he isn’t sure whether they’re real or conjurations of his besotted imagination.

“It didn’t feel right to open carry to a doctor’s appointment, even if the doctor is Zayne.” You continue, face flushing slightly and your eyes darting to the side when you say the doctor’s name. Oh my. What did the dear doctor do to you today? You clear your throat, “Besides, weapons aren’t allowed in the hospital.”

“Seems like an oversight when half the population wields deadly Evol.” Sylus remarks with an unimpressed grin.

You grin and shift on your feet, “I should get to work. Don’t want Zayne to think I’m slacking.”

Sylus debates arguing, but he can see your need for escape, and so he lets you. Lets you slide away and watches you go over his shoulder. You’re not walking any different so Zayne was, at the very least, able to restrain himself. But you don’t look properly ravished. Devoured in the way Sylus knows Zayne can.

Once alone, Sylus pulls up his phone and gets back to work. Mephisto is state-of-the-art. Beyond even that because of his alterations, but even his precious crow is having a hard time finding your stalker. The CCTV he had access to: public crosswalks, traffic cams, even private business’ security footage all showed you and the hooded man. He could see you from the minute you had left the house, to the minute you pulled back up, clinging to his back.

You may have brushed it off, but Sylus didn’t. It didn’t matter the motivation– someone had the audacity to follow you. To scare you. It was an unforgivable crime, and the unknown of it only made Sylus more tenacious to snuff it out.

He’d inform you, of course, once he had something to show. It wouldn’t be any fun confronting someone seeking to hurt you if you weren’t there. It’d be nice to see if you were still as ferocious as you had been before. A snowy leopard– all fluffy and beguiling, but deadly.

Sylus found himself only mildly distracted by the idea of what you had gotten up to with Zayne. He could hack into Zayne’s laptop or phone and see for himself, but that “crossed a line” as the others liked to remind him. So he was left wondering.

He should have known Xavier had a taste the moment he walked in. Nothing was visibly remarkable to Xavier, and his scent was muddled with the smell of sweat, Wanderers, and soot. But his expression was different. His gait was a bit lighter. Like he wasn’t dragging his feet to return to this place with a gaping hole in his chest.

By the time supper rolled around, Sylus had come to the conclusion that the only one you hadn’t played with was him. Rafayel hadn’t gotten far, the artist would have come bragging if he had, but he’d gotten something. Xavier moved around you like a dog waiting for you to toss him a treat, hovering around the outskirts of the kitchen you’d kicked him out of.

Sylus didn’t like being left out. In fact, it was unacceptable. But what could he do without you coming to him? He wouldn’t press his luck, he’d been too lucky last time. In a different life and different time when you– beyond all reason– had loved him. Who was he to demand it again?

Sylus shot a text to the group chat, and tucked his phone away. Observing the rest of you for the remainder of the evening.

----------------

“I hate it in here.” Rafayel whined as he tossed himself down onto the red cushion settee. “No windows, and it smells like lizard.”

The jab was barbless, nothing more than obligatory complaining from the resident whiner. Rafayel hated “family meetings”, in truth he just hated being told what to do. Something in his DNA makes him combative to listening.

Sylus’ room was not the usual meeting place for them to convene, but the living room was hardly secure as you could walk in. So, during dinner, Sylus had requested a family meeting in his room to share some things.

“What’s this about?” Xavier asked from where he stood in the center of the room, arms crossed and refusing to sit.

“I’ll explain when Zayne gets here.” Sylus replied, letting Mephisto rest on his arm for a moment before letting him hop down and onto his wrought iron perch.

Rafayel’s head lifted and his expression was incredulous, “Zayne? Him too?”

Sylus rolled his eyes, “Yes, him too. It involves him too.”

“Yeah, well a lot of things involve him that he doesn’t know about.” Rafayel mumbled, “I thought that’s what the meeting was about. You know he’s known her for years?”

“Rafayel, it’s not his fault.” Xavier defends sharply, “He couldn’t have known, and you can’t be angry with him for it.”

“I can be angry at whoever I want, thank you very much.” Rafayel griped while pointing an accusatory finger, “I can also be upset at the circumstances and not at the individual. I’m complex like that.”

Sylus crossed his arms, “This wouldn’t have happened if we’d gone with my plan and told him everything, but that ship has sailed. We’re here, and we need to adapt”

Rafayel leaned his arm over the back of the settee and sighed, “Do we really need to hash everything out like this? We don’t get a day or two to just adjust?”

“You and I both know you’ve known for longer than a day.” Sylus said with a quirk of his brow. “You want to fly fast and loose and get caught? Be my guest.”

Xavier’s face descended into a scowl, “Is that a concern? Being found?”

“Always.” Sylus insisted, “The reason we lost last time was we got too comfortable. There will always be enemies, and you both know how much one in particular can take everything away again. Take it before we even have it.”

“Astra doesn’t exist in this universe.” Xavier said harshly, “We would have found them by now.”

“Really? Just like she doesn’t exist in this universe?” Rafayel countered, “You were so certain. We wasted years flopping around thinking it could never happen, but look! She exists! Not only that, but she’s here! It’s all happening again.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being optimistic,” Sylus added at seeing Xavier’s deadly expression, “But it won’t protect us. It won’t protect her.”

Xavier exhaled and it rumbled like a growl, “So, you plan to tell Zayne everything?”

“We should have from the start.“ Sylus couldn’t help the edge to his voice.

The three fell into a tense silence. The air thick with churning discourse of their unsettled minds. It was easy to want to relax, and sink into the relief of seeing you again. It might not look the same as it did before, but it was close. So close.

But the grander the tower, the longer the shadow cast. And their delicately built home teetered sky high. Shadows lurking around every corner. Each one had their demons, from the past and the present.

Sylus wasn’t willing to let it fall apart. He’d hold the bricks together with his bare hands and lace the mortar with his blood if it meant keeping it all together. A dragon guarding his hoard, though only people remained. The gold and jewels of the past forgotten with time.

A soft knock on the door and then it opened, Zayne entering with his coat over his arm. “Why are we meeting here? Is the living room not available?”

”We didn’t want to bother the housekeeper.” Rafayel explained, relaxing slightly.

The doctor tossed his coat over the back of a chair and examined the tension between the two fair haired of the group. His own eyes narrowed, but he didn’t mention it. It wasn’t unusual for Sylus and Xavier to be at odds.

“Now that you’re here,” Sylus segued, motioning for Mephisto to come over. The raven fluttered across the room, sitting on the long lacquered cabinet that held a thin, glass screen. A little shifting of his artificial red eye and the screen lit up. A series of images and some videos covering it.

Rafayel sat up, and Xavier approached.

Sylus crossed his arms tightly and let the others examine the evidence he’d collected— as little as it may be. “Someone is following our housekeeper.”

Xavier whirled, “How? When?”

“When was this taken?” Rafayel asked tightly as he rose to his feet and pointed to the still image of you near the canal, the hooded figure barely twenty feet away.

“How do you know this?” Zayne asked, stepping closer to Sylus and examining the screen with cold scrutiny.

“It was Sunday. I saw her and followed her myself, but someone was already there. Less than six foot. Fair skin. That’s all I could see of him.” Sylus motioned again to Mephisto, and security footage of the man in question showed up on the screen, “He was good enough to know where the cameras would be. No facial recognition because of his mask. Kept his eyes down to avoid it. Kept a distance on her to avoid her suspicion.”

“Did she know she was being followed?” Xavier asked, glaring at the image of the stalker.

“Oh, of course.” Sylus said with a chuckle, “I have no doubt she would have been fine if she’d been armed, but she wasn’t. And he was.”

“What did he want?” Zayne asked, rubbing at his jaw in thought.

“Tch, it could have been anything.” Rafayel hissed, his voice sharper than a blade, “Though I don’t recognize his clothing or anything about him, so it’s likely not gang related. They’d wear some kind of mark.”

Sylus nodded in agreement, “I’ve checked the footage and had Mephisto analyze it. There wasn’t a vehicle with the man. He comes up from the subway just as she leaves the house, and then when I show up, he crosses the street and disappears down an alley.”

“You mean you haven’t found him?” Xavier grumbled. “Have you reported it?”

Sylus laughed at that, “Reported it? To whom? To the police? Or the Hunters? No, my prince, I did not report it. And I haven’t found him either. I’d have him here if I did.”

Zayne hummed in thought, clearly displeased, “I see why we didn’t meet in the living room now. So, what do we do?”

Rafayel approached and stood in front of the screen with his arms crossed, “Send me a copy of his face. I’ll ask around.”

Sylus nodded, and Zayne looked confused.

“Who will you ask?” Zayne glanced between the other men for a moment, “Is there something more I’m not understanding? We should report this to the authorities at once.”

“She didn’t want to.” Sylus said defensively, “I asked her and she said no. You’re welcome to try, if you like.”

Zayne clicked his tongue and his face looked grim, “There’s a few suspects that I could think of, but I thought they were gone.”

Xavier perked up, “What suspects?”

The doctor looked apprehensive for a moment, silently debating before speaking again, “I knew her when we were young. She has a heart condition— Protocore Syndrome, but beyond that she has something called an Aether Core inside her chest cavity. It made her desirable to an organization called Ever. It could be them, or someone else who might be aware of the core.”

Rafayel huffed, his displeasure for Zayne’s shared history with you rearing its ugly head again. Sylus couldn’t help the inkling of jealousy at it as well. It was years they wouldn’t get back. No one got to grow up with you in their last life, and what a treat that would have been.

“You wouldn’t happen to have pictures of the two of you when you were young would you?” Sylus found himself asking, sliding up to Zayne’s side.

“Sylus, be serious.” Zayne barked, “This is serious.”

“And I am so serious.” Sylus replied, “I can run facial recognition on her younger face. If she was involved with Ever, I’ll find it.”

“And me?” Rafayel said, hiding his eagerness, “Send me one too.”

Zayne huffed, “Should I print out wallet copies for you three? You’re being ridiculous.”

Xavier hummed and pinched at his chin in thought, “I don’t carry a wallet.”

Sylus chuckled and shook his head. Turning back to the screen, he sighed, “Whoever is behind it made a mistake. They clearly are surveilling her by how quickly they showed up when she left, which means she can’t leave without one of us with her— for the time being. And I’ve got their scent. The next time they show up, we’ll be prepared.”

Zayne pulled out his phone and began to tap at it with his thumb, “Here,” He said after a moment, “A picture from when we were younger. I’ll send it to you three.”

“You had it in your phone?” Rafayel teased, coming over to look over his shoulder.

“My parents sent me a copy when I told them I’d reunited with her recently.” Zayne defended as his ears turned red.

The photo was of two children in front of a street carnival. A Ferris wheel and lines of food stalls and games behind them. They stood in front of a wood cutout of some animal mascot, the two tiny in comparison.

Zayne smiled at the camera politely, probably the way his parents had shown him too. And he kept his chin up with a tight posture. His clothes were formal but his shoes were muddy, and his right hand was clasped tightly with yours.

You were striking a pose. Free arm up in the air with and a brilliant smile on your face. Exuberant and joyful as you leaned into Zayne’s side. Your hair was shorter and you had colorful clips near your ears. Your feet were muddy too, as well as the bottom hem of your summer dress.

Their phones all chirped with the received photo and Sylus quickly saved it.

Xavier aggressively tapped at the screen, scrolling through and mumbling under his breath, “I need to get a wallet.”

“Just make it your wallpaper, weirdo,” Rafayel laughed as he grabbed Xavier’s phone and fixed it for him, “Here ya’ go, old man. See?”

“I am not old.” Xavier argued as he snatched back his phone, “This is primitive technology to me. It’s hard to work sometimes.”

“If I can do it, you can do it.” Rafayel said with a laugh, “I believe in you, old man.”

“Guys,” Sylus barked, “I need to speak with Zayne, you mind?”

They continued to bicker as they left. Rafayel adding, “You should probably change it back before she sees. She’ll think you’re a stalker.”

“Wait, how do I change it back? Rafayel. Rafayel!”

The door closed behind them, leaving Sylus and Zayne alone.

“Was there something else?” Zayne asked, but was answered with a hand to his chest, pushing him back, back, back, until the backs of his legs hit the seat of chair and he fell into it. Zayne grunted as Sylus pushed him into the black leather seat, and with a firm hand on his jaw moved to place his knee between the doctor’s.

“How did your appointment go?” Sylus rumbled, watching with fascination as Zayne’s cheekbones and ears blushed raspberry red. “Doctor?”

Zayne was too stunned to speak for a moment. The position of Sylus curled above him making his brain stumble for words. Sylus’ knee slid forward, pressing into the apex of Zayne’s thighs, just enough pressure to make him hiss.

Through slightly gritted teeth, Zayne hissed, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Sylus felt like he’d been challenged. A taunt made by some adversary that provoked the fire in his belly. Zayne wanted to play dumb? He’d make sure he was too dumb to speak.

“I don’t think I’ve thanked you properly,” Sylus cooed as he grabbed Zayne’s chin and forced his face upward, letting their faces get close enough to feel the temperature difference between them. Sylus ran hot, skin burning and fervid. While Zayne was always cool, simmering low like dry ice. “, for bringing our housekeeper to us.”

Sylus couldn’t help himself, and nipped his teeth at Zayne’s jaw. He could smell you on the doctor. The scent of sweat and spit and candy-sweet desire. Like toffee and spun sugar, it clung like an expensive cologne to the dark-haired man. To his neck. To his clothes. To his lips.

Zayne panted under the attention, “You like her?”

Sylus rumbled with laughter, sounding more like a growl, “That’s a dumb question. Think, Zayne.”

Sylus nudged his knee a little harder and then backed off, and Zayne’s eyes grew a little hazy. The doctor’s hips slowly followed the rhythm, until he didn’t realize Sylus had stopped moving and the movement was all his own.

“Tell me,” Sylus hissed, dragging his teeth up towards Zayne’s ear, “Will you share?”

Zayne stuttered, his hips grinding softly against Sylus’ knee with timid thrusts. “W-What?”

Sylus moved his hand braced on the arm of the chair to grab the back of Zayne’s hair, forcing him to focus, “Tell me what happened. What happened at your appointment?”

Zayne groaned at his hair being pulled his hips moved of their own accord to press a little harder. Sylus smiled against Zayne’s cheek, waiting patiently for enough cognizance to return to the doctor for him to answer.

“S-She was well.” Zayne stuttered out, swallowing hard, “Vitals good. Scans showed no progression—“

Sylus yanked Zayne’s hair back harshly and moved his knee away, “You know that’s not what I mean.”

”Did you watch us? Did you hack into my phone again?” Zayne seethed, glaring at Sylus for a moment with a salacious heat.

“No, I didn’t have to.” Sylus answered, easing his harshness with a soft press of his lips to the corner of Zayne’s mouth, “Now, tell me. Please.”

Sylus moved his knee back and loosened his hold on Zayne’s hair.

“She told me Xavier kissed her.” Zayne confessed airily as Sylus began to pepper him with kisses to reward him for speaking. “He kissed her on th-the jaw, and on the—ngh—neck.”

“And?” Sylus dragged his hand down Zayne’s side, caressing his chest and his abdomen before sliding lower to where the doctor was hard and aching. His hips twitched when Sylus’ fingers found the hem of his shirt, pulling it out of the tuck of his pants to slide across the silver of skin exposed.

“I kissed her.” Zayne croaked, “I…I asked her and she let me. G-god, Sylus, she tasted like sugar.”

Sylus groaned as Zayne moved his hands from they’d be frozen at his sides to grab at Sylus’s waist and drag down. Fueled by the memory of you and the searing heat of the flesh in front of him.

“M-more…” Sylus breathed.

“She was so responsive.” Zayne was slowly turning the tide, slowly sapping control from the mercurial man above him. “She whined for me. Ah— Sylus, move.”

Sylus moved, and Zayne moved to stand, grabbing at the other man and kissing him properly. Sylus responded with teeth and tongue, animal and hungry.

“Wh-what else?” Sylus hummed into Zayne’s lips as they moved across the room over to the bed.

“I couldn’t stop.” Zayne panted, hands slightly shaking as he moved to the buttons of Sylus’ shirt, “I had her in my office. The door unlocked and I couldn’t stop.

Sylus snarled and tore at his own shirt, moving quickly to Zayne’s and pushing the other man down onto the bed. Switching them back to the way they’d been before, “I saw the mark you left on her. That’s not fair.”

The breath was punched out of Zayne as Sylus slid his hand down into Zayne’s pants, grabbing ahold him and squeezing. Sliding up and down in the restricted room, but still sending Zayne’s mind into syrupy mush.

“ F-Fuck, I had to. I had to.” Zayne panted, delirious, “I pushed her—ahh, please— h-her onto my desk. I would have— G-god I wouldn’t have stopped. And I-I don’t think she would have stopped me.”

Sylus leaned down to nip at Zayne’s neck, debating leaving a matching mark but deciding against it, “Is that all?”

“ Yes. Fuck, yes, that’s all.” Zayne was downright whining now, pushing down his pants so Sylus could grip him fully. Hand tight around his weeping cock and pumping him agonizingly slowly.

“Such a good doctor,” Sylus praised, and he felt Zayne twitch in his hands, “So good for me, and for our girl.”

A bit of clarity came to Zayne’s hazy eyes, “She isn’t—“

“Oh? Is she not ours?” Sylus moved his hand up to draw painstakingly circles around the head of Zayne’s cock, the poor man choking on the overstimulation, “Tell me Zayne. Tell me who you belong to.”

Zayne was a bit more familiar with this talk, and quickly sank back into a rhythm as Sylus continued to stroke him, “Yours. Yours.”

“That’s right.” Sylus hummed, drunk on Zayne’s obedience. He knew Zayne would return the favor in a moment, but this was his thank you to the doctor. A completely selfish show of gratitude for Zayne bringing you back to them. “And who am I?”

Zayne was growling through his teeth, teetering at the edge of orgasm, “M-M—ah— Mine.”

Sylus lowered himself closer, letting his voice vibrate in Zayne’s ear, “And who is she?”

Zayne growls, gripping at Sylus’ shirt and continuing to pant like a dog. This feels like some sort of Pavlovian torture, or at the very least manipulative, but in his pleasure-drunk haze Zayne doesn’t care. All those years are carefully constructed walls made of etiquette and reason come crumbling down. Imagining you in this scenario. Soft hands holding his cock instead of Sylus’ large calloused one— or better yet, the both of you— makes something feral and dangerous in his gut tighten.

So he answers Sylus’ obvious taunt with what he wants to her. With what they both want to her. “Ours.” He snarls as he comes, “She’s ours.”

--------------

Days passed and turned into a week, schedules became busy and you found yourself alone more often than not. You didn’t leave the house at all, and it didn’t interest you to do so.

The snow might be melting from the blizzard but it was still too cold for comfort.

The boys had started texting you more, letting you know about their whereabouts and when they’d be home. You’re not sure when it happened, but it was nice. You no longer had to ponder if and when you’d see them anymore.

It was interesting to see their texting patterns too.

Patrol is running long. Please don’t want to eat. From Xavier.

Xavier signed every message like between messages you might have lost his number somehow.

Gtg to a dumb meeting. 😩 Dnt miss me too much. ✨🐠

Rafayel used a weird combination of text lingo and regular speech. And emojis. So many emojis.

I’ve been called in to consult on a pediatric case. Please let the others know I will be delayed. Did you need me to pick anything up on my way home?

Zayne wrote formally. With punctuation and grammar and usually with some form of question at the end. Always with an inquiry about anything you might need or want.

I can hear you stomping around up there, kitten. 🐱

Sylus used voice messages pretty often and his texts always felt vaguely like threats.

You would enjoy the new level of your relationships if your phone would behave. For the past week it’s been acting up, screen turning off at random times. Apps crashing, closing or randomly opening. You’d sit it down and come back to some random photo open, or video playing.

It was getting frustrating as even typing out messages was getting glitchy.

You were struggling to type a response to Zayne one late afternoon when you walked into the living room. The burnt golden light filling the space and casting long shadows across the floor.

You almost didn’t notice him at first, but a blink and you saw Xavier passed out in the couch. He had his head propped up on the arm at an odd angle and his arm thrown over his eyes.

He’d be comfortable if he just shifted down a bit, and despite the warm afternoon sun beaming in, he could use a blanket.

You tuck your buggy phone back into your pocket and retrieve a throw blanket. You set it down next to Xavier first, and reach out to gently place your hand on the back of his neck and the other on his shoulder.

He stirred, which you expected and you quickly whispered. “It’s okay. It’s just me, just slide down a little and you’ll be more comfortable.”

Xavier groaned softly and followed your ministrations, laying flatter and more comfortable across the long couch. You went to pick up the blanket but a hand on your arm stopped you,

With ease, Xavier pulled you down on top of him. You’re able to catch yourself slightly with a hand on the back of the couch. At the very least, you don’t collapse your entire body weight on him. But your brief resistance is met with firm arms snaking around your waist and rolling. You're effortlessly squished in between the couch and Xavier’s warm body– who clings to you like an oversized teddy bear.

You’re holding your breath. Xavier’s eyes are still closed and his breathing is slow and even, though he inhales deeply and sighs content when he presses the sides of your faces together in a nuzzle.

“Xavier,” You whisper, hoping to wake him enough to slide away. “Xavier, wake up.”

“No,” He whispers to you as his face contorts, “You go to sleep.”

“I can’t just take a nap, Xavier.” You argue breathlessly.

Xavier hums sleepily and pulls his face away to brush your noses together, “Yes, you can. Please?”

He asks so sweetly, and his hold is surprisingly comfortable for how impromptu it was. So you sigh, and you watch his lips quirk in a victorious grin the moment you do.

You shift slightly to rest a bit more comfortably and he moves so you can use his arm as a pillow. Settling in, your body is two steps ahead of your mind it seems, as you can already feel yourself relaxing into sleep.

“There’s a blanket on the floor,” You mumble as you move to rest your palm against the soft fabric of his hoodie, just over his heart.

Xavier rolls over just enough to grab the blanket from the floor and with hooded eyes he adjusts it to cover both of you. Once satisfied, he sinks back into you. Pushing you back up against the back of the couch and into the plush of it. Practically laying on top of you. The pressure of it is a bit overwhelming at first, but after a moment he’s like a weighted blanket.

You feel his breathing even out, and his chin droops a bit as he immediately falls back asleep. You’re not quite as quick to fall, but you’re not far behind. Taking the few moments of lucidity left to admire the blond of his lashes, and the pink of his lips.

----------------

“What do you mean, no?” You blurt out in disbelief. You were already wearing your coat and had your phone in your hand, ready to call a taxi when you’d run into Sylus.

“I mean no.” Sylus repeats, “Did Xavier snore too loud in your ear, sweetie? Should I repeat it again?”

You huff and cross your arms, “No, I heard you the first time. I’m just wondering who the hell you are to tell me I can’t leave? I need to get my bike and some more clothes from storage. I’m tired of living out of a suitcase.”

Sylus raised a brow, looking far too canine and amused for your liking, “You said you were going out. I said no, not that you couldn’t go, but simply to wait for me. Were you going to call a ride? Why? Don’t be shy when using us, sweetheart. Just ask. I’ll take you.”

Your heart does a little flutter at his words, spoken so nonchalantly that you’re sure it must be a taunt, but he’s already moving. Grabbing keys and a jacket from the hook and adjusting the collar.

“I–uh…” You mumble out, “I left my bike in a parking garage over at the central mall. I couldn’t afford to store it, and then my storage unit is over by my old place.”

“What kind of bike is it?” Sylus asks as he adjusts his gloves, “Are we talking little wicker basket and a bell? Or a motorbike?”

You frown, “It's a motorbike.”

“Good,” Sylus says with a nod. “We’ll take my bike then, we can race on the way home.”

He leaves no room for argument as he walks over to you, placing a hand at your back to lead you over to the elevator and down to the garage below.

It hadn’t been your plan today to go on some impromptu joyride with Sylus, but changing plans seemed to be becoming the norm. Nothing you thought would happen was happening, and lots of surprises added on.

When you climb on the back of Sylus’ bike, he does the same as he did before. Shifting you up and close as possible to his back. You’re less flustered by it this time, and scoot your hips forward and wrap your arms around his torso, squeezing him tight enough he nearly wheezes.

You show him the location of your bike first, and he takes off with the same breakneck, ticket-worthy speed.

The air is icy but fills your lungs like a cold wake-up call. Swerving around corners and weaving through traffic like you’d done before, and this time you really let yourself enjoy it. Leaning into his movements and following his lead.

You arrive at the parking garage and you’re ecstatic to see your bike unscathed. You jump for joy and spend a few moments apologizing to the poor neglected machinery. Sylus watches you with amusement from just a few feet away, and once you're helmeted and ready, you show him the address of the storage unit.

His bike is aggressively loud, and clearly some custom model. It’s definitely heavier than yours with an engine to outrank your own in an open course.

But this isn’t an open course, and pure power alone won’t win him this race.

Anticipation rises in you like the swelling of a tide. The fuel for a fire being stoke and stoked higher with more and more fuel as you slowly go down the floors of the parking garage and out onto the street.

The two of you pause for a moment before pulling out onto the busy road, and you shoot Sylus a look– shaded by the visor of your helmet but you see him sit up a bit straighter. Fool! The moment of distraction is what you take advantage of, as you kick the bike into moving and take off. You shoot down the road with more speed than you should, but it sends a thrill through your blood. Heart pounding with both the thrill of the ride and the chase.

You see Sylus behind you, gaining up as he darts around cars.

It’s a dance. Like the death-drop eagles do, with their claws clutched together and careening into a spiral, only letting go at the very last minute. Sylus follows you, coming up beside you and you playfully let him pass. Playing chicken with one another on who would go first.

By the time you make it to the storage unit, you’re breathless. And a winner. You beat him to the parking lot by less than twenty seconds, but a win is a win, and you remove your helmet with a victorious grin.

Sylus pulls up beside you, standing and removing his helmet to smile down at you. “You’re grinning like you won something, kitten.”

“I did, didn’t I?” You snark back, “I beat you here.”

“Only the first leg of the race,” Sylus counters, adjusting his jacket and stepping into your space. “If you beat me home, only then can you consider yourself a winner.”

You scoff out a laugh, “Oh yeah? And if I win? What’s the prize? Maybe you should clean the house for a week.”

“If that’s what you want.” Sylus answers too easily. “And if I win? What do I get?”

“I already cook your meals and clean up after you, what more do you want?” Your mind supplies a dozen or so embarrassing and ludicrous things a man like Sylus might suggest.

“Hm,” Sylus hums and pretends to look up in thought, “I’ll decide when I win, I think.”

You sigh and shake your head, “Fine by me. I have no intention of losing.”

“Of course not, sweetie.”

The two of you enter the store facility. A vast indoor complex with varying sized units. You’d had it from before this whole mess, keeping sentimental items and keepsakes mostly, but now it was nearly filled to the brim with furniture and haphazardly filled boxes.

“My clothes should be in some blue tubs.” You explain as you unlock the padlock with the six digit code, Sylus kneels down before you can and hauls the rolling door upward. “If you can find them, I’d appreciate it.”

Sylus just nods and begins to peer inside the unit. You slide through the narrow space between stacks, too small for his broad shoulders to fit.

“This is hardly organized.” Sylus remarks from outside the unit. “I expected better from our housekeeper.”

“I had to fill it in a hurry,” You argue as you move aside a box of barely wrapped glasses and plates. “Landlord gave me three days to get out.”

“Did he?” Sylus muses, “Where did you live before? Around here?”

You kneel down to examine a blue tub, opening it to see tanktops and cut-off shorts Summer wardrobe. No good. “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to do something bad if I tell you?”

“Likely because I will.” Sylus says chuckling, “No one will die, if that makes it better.”

“It really doesn’t.” You call from the very back. You find another blue bin and peer inside to find long pants and jeans. Winner.

You haul it up and over the stacks sliding it precariously over the chaos, “Can you reach this?”

Sylus’ long arm reaches in and pulls the tub out. “Is this is?”

“There should be one more.” You turn and notice one of the cardboard boxes with writing on the side. Photographs from Gran.

You freeze for a moment before moving over to it, deciding to hurt yourself for fun and look inside. The tape peels fairly easily off of it, and you open it. The stacks of old photos frams that Gran had given you when you’d first gotten an apartment are still there, dusty and outdated. You’d always intended to scan them, and put the photos into digital photos frames, but you never got around to it.

You pick up one of the frames and startle to find it empty. Nothing but the cardboard backing staring back at you. You pull out another and its the same. Frame after frame after frame without the familiar photos. Nothing but worn wood and dusty glass.

You stand, hands clammy. What the hell? Where did they go? You were sure you hadn’t touched them. You’d beaten yourself up about not touching them enough lately to know you hadn’t. So where the hell did they go?

You turn on your heel in the little space in the back of your unit and pull out your phone, turning on the flashlight to see better.

It’s not obvious. Not at first. The boxes had been thrown in here with no organization in mind, and so chaos looked like chaos. But something was wrong. You spy another blue bin, but settled underneath two boxes labeled Caleb Keepsakes, and Keepsake Toys.

Even in the chaos of throwing things in here, you’d been careful not to cover up your clothes. You’d but the blue bins on top. Now, something from your apartment like decor or kitchen items coveirng up a bin wouldn’t be that hard to believe, but this?

How on earth did your keepsakes, which had been in here for years, get on top of the blue bin?

“Hey Sylus?” You call, as you walk over and move the boxes on top of the last bin.

Something in your tone must have alerted him, as he’s peering over the boxes again, pressing his arm into the alleyway you’d slid through and answer, “What is it?”

You haul the blue bin up and he takes it, “I think someone was in here.”

You’re barely within arms reach before Sylus is grabbing you, pulling you out of the maze of boxes and back to his side. You squeak a little and nearly stumble, but Sylus is holding you, glaring at the storage unit like it’d offended him.

“How do you know?” He asks, voice tight.

“Boxes where they aren’t supposed to be, and my pictures are gone.” You say grimly. A one-time stalker is one thing, but this is a violation. Your history is in this unit. Remnants of your life that someone could piece together to know practically everything about you. The idea that someone had touched things you couldn’t even bear to think about made you feel sick.

Sylus hummed, but it edged into a growl. He pulled the cord overhead to turn the light back off, and turned to you. His hands on your waist and sliding around. You lift your arms slightly, shivering at the heat from his palms and go to interrogate him. However, when his fingers find the holster with your gun, he smiles.

“Good. Just making sure.” He drawls, and lets go. He picks up the bins “I’ll take a box, and you can take the other.”

Sylus walks out of the unit like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t mentioned that someone had broken in, and made an effort to hide it. He silently helps you strap the bins to the back of your bikes, a handicap for your upcoming race, but at least it’s equal.

“Sylus,” You say, and you can hear the worry in your tone. You hadn’t been that shaken when that man followed you, but this had rattled you.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” Sylus purrs as he brushes some hair away from your face, “I’ll take care of it.”

“You – will?” Your question is interrupted by him sliding your helmet over your head.

“Some creep peeking into your stuff is hardly a threat.” Sylus assures, “Worry more about what I might ask for when I win. Kitten.”

The taunt kicks you back into a competitive frenzy and you jump onto your bike with no intention to lose. Sylus cracks his knuckles and rolls his shoulders as he starts up his bike, the growl of it rumbling in your chest like the feral bellow of a dragon.

Your race home is marginally less aggressive with the bins attached to you, but no less intense. When Sylus is in front of you, he watches you more than the road in front of you, and makes sure to give you no room to get around him.

The bastard has lingers close the entire time. The two of you circling each other like beasts in a cage, but in the final stretch he picks up the pace. Searing through the streets like he had something to lose, and you struggle to keep up.

He’s off his bike, leaning against it with his helmet at his hip when you pull up in front of the house.. He’s grinning and showing too much canine, and you fume a bit.

“That’s not fair!” You argue as you swing your leg over and get off the bike.You yank your helmet off and sit it on the seat, “You have some suped up monster bike! Not fair!”

“Oh it’s funny you mention that,” Sylus teases with a villainous smirk, “That’s exactly what I was going to say.”

“What? What are you talking about?” You scoff, “I’m not the one who–”

“Let’s get these inside.” Sylus interrupts, and he grabs both bins. “Go put your bike away, I’ll meet you inside.”

The initial heat your loss tempers and you go back to your bike. As you drive around to the garage and put your bike in the spot you usually saw Sylus’, you contemplate what he might ask for. Or maybe he’s forgotten about that? Maybe he’s too preoccupied with your stalker to remember you owe him.

You head back up to the main living area and grab a drink. Speaking of your stalker….this is so weird.

You’ve been holed up for months since the explosion. Losing your family had made you anti-social at best, and downright misanthropic at worst. If your stalker was the classic kind, and had some kind of obsessive infatuation with you, breaking into your storage unit would make sense. They could steal your photos and other mementos to feed their delusion.

But the Hunter in you warned of more nefarious things. There was the little issue of Ever. The black market and its various gangs and organizations– many of which wanted you dead for interfering with their business in the past.

If someone wanted you dead, why go to such lengths? You pondered as you stared off into space in the kitchen. There were likely dozens of opportunities to off you. One good hitman with a half-decent silencer entering your apartment these past months could have done it. This was too complicated just to want you dead.

“I can almost hear your mind working, kitten.” Sylus purred in your ear, suddenly behind you.

You jump and stumble away, whirling on his with a glare, “Don’t scare me like that! I’m just thinking!”

“What about?” Sylus inquires as he cocks his head to the side, “About what I might demand as my prize?”

You huff, “No, actually. Thinking about who could’ve broken into my unit. It doesn’t feel right to me.”

Sylus hummed, “If it makes you feel better, I’m already working on it.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, the venom in you gaze easing.

“I’ve been trying to track down the man following you since the day it happened.” Sylus explained with a casual movement of his hand, like it was no big deal, “This development is fortunate, as now I have more to go off of. I’ve sent some associates to search the places. Find anything that might lead us to whoever thought it a good idea to follow you.”

“Associates?” You blurt, “They’re going through my things?”

Sylus chuckles at your scandalized expression, “Don’t worry, sweetie. They’re discreet. They’ll only tell me relevant things they find. Why? Are you hiding something?”

“I’m not hiding anything.” You hiss, “Forgive me if I’m not super excited about the idea of random guys basically rooting through my life.”

“Would you feel better if I did it myself?” Sylus asked, mirth in his tone but somehow you know he’s serious. If you ask him, he’d do it himself.

“No.” You answer, the image of him finding something embarrassing worse than some faceless goons.

“Good, which reminds me,” Sylus slides forward, “I think I’d like my prize now.”

You stiffen and your hands get a little clammy, “Oh, that? Ha, are we really doing that?”

“I have a funny feeling you’d demand your prize if you’d won, kitten.” Sylus hums, leaning over you from his ridiculous height. “I’ve been thinking about what I want.”

“A-and, what is that?” You’re stuttering now, feeling too much like a raw piece of meat in front of a slavering beast. His teeth are too sharp, his eyes too hungry.

“I want…” He drawls, letting his voice drift off. You’re suddenly struck by a sense of familiarity, and fully expect him to demand a kiss. Just as Xavier did.

You look up at him and debate the idea. Sylus is a scary-looking guy, but scary in the way a rottweiler is scary. Given the right mood, he could be puppy-faced and adorable. Kissing him might be nice, though your mind worried it might not be allowed.

Overthinking again, you worry that maybe you shouldn’t be so free with your affection. Everytime you kick yourself for giving in, for not being more resistant to them, but every time any of them is close it's like instinct. Like the draw of the moon and the stars to your helpless mind, and you give in. Something deep within you relishing in every little contact, and it feels like a relief. Like everytime any of them was near, it soothed some decade old wound you didn’t even realize you had.

Sylus semed to pause, watching your expression and his features softened. The serrated edge of desire in his gaze giving way to something altogether gentler.

“Your day off.” Sylus finishes.

You blink, “Huh?”

“Your next day off. I want it.” Sylus says again, “Spend it with me, whatever I want. I get you from eight am till…when do you usually stop working?”

“Uh…depends, like…seven?”

“Until seven then.” Sylus affirms with a nod. “When is it?”

“Sundays.” You’re more than a little confused, at his seemingly benign request. “So a week from today.”

“Good. I’ll remember.” Sylus reaches up to brush at your hairline, “Don’t forget, alright kitten?”

You hear the sound of Sylus’ footsteps as he walks away and you're dumbfounded. You nod to nothing and silently mark it down in your mind. Next Sunday, you guess, you belong to Sylus.

<- Previous Next ->

#love and deepspace #lads #lads x reader #lads fanfic #Sylus x Zayne #lads xavier #lads rafayel #lads sylus #lads zayne

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bleachbleachbleach · 1 month ago

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Soul Society Wind Sock Livestream

oh boy my favorite genre of headcanon

This is going to be one of those things where its sheer divinity is impossible to convey meaningfully to another human, but humor my brain and my heart for 40 seconds.

There happens to be a fountain outside the building where I work. It's kind of weird that there is, because it is off most months of the year because it is winter for most months of the year. But it exists, and I watched them put water back in the bottom of the fountain last week thinking uniornically, "Oh boy, what a treat! A rare view of the half-filled fountain!" Then, yesterday, there's a security camera that...happens to face the fountain, and my workplace decided to livestream the fountain cam on YouTube???? And now I'm obsessed with the fountain cam????

Bear in mind I walk past this fountain multiple times a day, every day. I do not need to see it on video. But I've literally had the fountain cam open in a tab this whole time, and apparently the livestream runs through the night, even when the fountain is off. I have been the only viewer in this livestream this whole time. But I learned this morning that the fountain turns on at 8am! AND THERE WERE THREE PEOPLE WATCHING THE FOUNTAIN CAM LIVESTREAM FOR THE MOMENT IT TURNED ON.

Anyway, when I learned of this security cam livestream, one of my first thoughts was "this is so weird I bet Soul Society has one."

I feel like there probably used to be one for Soukyoku Hill, the appeal of which is you can watch the gradations of sun fall and vanish from its surface or somesuch. But that one is broken now.

The Soul Society Wind Sock livestream, however, is very much still alive and ready for its 1 avg. viewer per session!!!!!!

(yeah, it's Hisagi)

#bleach headcanons #hisagi shuuhei #wind socks #no brain just bleach

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hyuny-bunny · 1 year ago

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cybersex | camgirl! x skz

prologue. chapter I

MDNI (18+): this series will depict sex work and acts of sex. this prologue has suggestive themes, nudity, and mentions of butt plugs

skz x fem!reader

a/n: I'll have chapter 1 up soon but I hope you all love this series as much as I do!

synopsis: after a month or so of becoming a camgirl! your career really takes off, you decide to get a place of your own to film content. a lovely building opens up with the perfect space for all your necessities but to your surprise, your favorite waiter boys and long time crush on the head chief of the restaurant you work also happen to live in the building. Bringing you to meet their own assortment of friends. what happens when they find out there's some holes in the stories you tell about your life style?

prologue

You always had a keen interest in the sex work. You had an nsfw twitter page for yourself but it was only really used as a means of saving material or on a bold occasion, posting some captions with said material. There was a thrill of seeing your notifications filled with compliments and praises of like-minded people who were just as horny as you. Your roommate Sana had gotten into doing camgirl work pretty early on. You had indulged your curiosity on occasion when she and her girlfriend would be streaming just down the hall from you. Popping onto the stream to see your roommate's body on display and her girlfriend sat cutely between her legs wearing nothing but a heart-shaped butt plug. Sana would encourage you to try it out at least, very aware of how much you had desired to try it out but always holding back. Financially speaking, you could only benefit from it. In comparison to what you two made in a week at your measly waitress jobs, she could make both your checks for two weeks in just one night and even double dependent on how long she streamed for.

“You’re not worried that someone will recognize you?” You asked standing in the newly furnished cam room, floor to ceiling decorated in all shades of pink imaginable.

“Not anymore, I revealed my face on stream so long ago, I haven’t given it much thought since. Besides, I could walk away at any moment I decide. I will admit there was a certain thrill with covering up in the beginning. I think there's something about hiding your identity while being in such a lewd state that elicits such an adrenaline rush. It makes the excitement of being watched and gawked at all the more fun.” Sana is now leaning on the desk where her camera and lighting equipment reside.

“I like the fun, bring me as much joy and excitement as it probably does for my followers,” There’s a slight flush that rises to the tops of her cheeks that you can still make out in the fluorescent lights, “The biggest thing for me is it gives me the confidence I need, the financial security is just a bonus.”

The windows were covered by drawn curtains that covered the entirety of the walls, allowing the room to only be lit by the neon color-changing lamps which to no surprise were set at a baby pink. The floors were covered by a fluffy throw rug, with very little wood peaking. There is a makeshift sofa bed that's covered by an assortment of pillows and silk sheets and another fluffy blanket. There sat on the floor is the giant white teddy bear, Mina, Sana’s longtime partner, gifted her just a month ago. You stayed quiet, absorbing your surroundings. You were amazed but also… jealous. Jealous of how she could find confidence and find security in what most people found so vulnerable. You let out a sigh, sitting on the almost too-silky sheets that caused you to slide right off the bed.

“Careful. You can imagine how slippery they are in the nude,” She laughed softly as she stared at you, waiting to speak again. “I see the gears turning… What’s on your mind kit-kat?” Your eyes bolt up to her.

“I’m just... A bit taken aback I guess. You could say jealous maybe. This is the frist time I’ve ever considered it as a viable option…” You let the sentence trail off not knowing what to say.

All your life, you had complexes about your body. Measured your self-worth in the way your body looked, and how it compared to other girls you had admired. The older you got, the better you were about mentally checking yourself, to realize it was okay not to be shaped like other girls. Finding it in yourself to feel secure in the body you had. Although you could keep those insecurities at bay most of the time, they would crawl out from under the bed like a hideous monster to plague your thoughts when you felt down about the lackluster love life. Bad dates, unreciprocated feelings, and talking stages that never went anywhere, that was the extent of your love life.

“You want to give it a try?” That question pulled you out of your thoughts, now you were the one with a bright flush across the tops of your cheeks. “I can help you get started, set up your account, and start promoting you on my own account to start you off with a bit of a following. That’s if… you really are serious about this.” Sana had always been so sweet to you, she had already been letting you take the spare of her 3-bedroom rental as you couldn’t afford to live on your own. She had always extended a helping hand when you needed but here was a chance to finally get you to land on your own feet for once. How could you refuse such an opportunity?

“I don’t know… I don’t think I’m cut out for something like this I mean look at you! I don’t know how anyone is supposed to get off looking at-”

“Finish that sentence and you’re never allowed to see Jiji again,” Sana interrupted, Jiji was your shared house cat who was slowly becoming more yours as time went on. “ I don't want to pressure you into anything but I just think you could actually see the benefit in this. Give it one try and if you don’t like it, I erase every trace of you.”

You sat with the thought, your brain tugging you to go for it. One chance and if it doesn’t work out no harm right?

“When can we start?”

masterlist • next chapter ->

#skz smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz hard thoughts #skz x you #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #hyunjin x reader #jeongin x reader #bang chan x reader #changbin x reader #lee know x reader #han x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #hyunybunnywrites #cybersexseries

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ostdrossel · 1 year ago

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A new visitor this morning... The Birdsy AI identified and recorded the clip. I was in a meeting and only saw it later in my Birdsy account. What a magnificent bird! Apparently it is a she, a Sharp-shinned. And she left hungry.

A word about Birdsy... I have been using their cameras since 2019, and I love the convenience of using a camera that is AI driven rather than unsing motion detection. My photo setup is motion activated, and it takes me a lot of time and computer storage to handle and edit the photos. I have used security cams to get close to wildlife before too, but I found it very time-consuming to sift through the footage to see if they captured anything fun. The cool thing with Birdsy is that the AI is trained on wildlife and captures exactly that so you do not end up with tons of “empty” videos. You also don’t have to install emulators or wonky software in order to watch your clips or livestream. With Birdsy, you get an app as well as an online account in which all your videos are saved and sorted by ID and date. And you can share your clips and livestream with others or embed it on your website, like I am doing here as well. In my opinion, nothing beats the convenience of this system as opposed to trail cams or security cams. No SD cards needed, and you are not tied to a setup like the gadgety smart feeders that seem to be all the rage now. You can build your own setup. Check it out on their website birdsy.com. I am streaming there too 😊

#birds #backyard birds #birds of prey #hawks #birds of north america #Birdsy #nature #wildlife #Ostdrossel #Friday vibes

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sun-dappledfields · 8 months ago

Note

Could I get a red fox mood board and maybe some activities to do while in a shift that would make me feel more at home ! Thank you greatly ♡♡♡♡♡

I hope you like it ! Sorry for getting carried away… again… 0.0

FOX HELPKIT!

Remember, these are just ideas meant to inspire you. Only you can dictate your identity as a fox— if you don’t feel connected to anything here, then that’s fine! No one else can tell you how to identify as a fox: only you can.

You are valid. You are strong. You are free. Paws or no paws. Fur or no fur. Bark or no bark. Pounce or no pounce. Prey drive or no prey drive. You are a fox through and through, and no one but you can change that.

Affirmations:

My fur dances like leaves in the wind!

I don’t have to hunt to be a perfect fox.

My ears stand alert— I can hear everything!

My fangs are awesome, big or small.

I am a radiant vessel of nature!

My pawsteps are practiced, poised, and perfect.

My experiences as a fox are valid.

If my hearing is bad, that’s okay! I am still a fox in so many ways.

My coat is amazing— silky or rough, short or long!

Even if I can’t run or pounce, I am still a valid fox!

My bark is loud and clear and strong.

A lack of fox-like features does not make me any less of a fox!

My tail is shiny, poofy, and rad!

It’s okay for my eyesight not to be great— not every fox can see very far.

My claws are striking and sharp.

Now here are some activities you can do to make you feel more at home!

Activities:

Curate a playlist filled with songs that remind you of the forest!

Start a journal— digital or physical— that details your experiences as a fox.

Play hunt with your stuffed animals! Ask for their permission, and if they say it’s okay, put them in different places around your safe place and practice your hunting skills.

Listen to ambient forest noises like birds songs, rain sounds, bushes rustling, etc.!

Dig outside, if you can! Bury things in the ground or just dig holes in the earth and cover them back up.

Make a burrow for yourself. Bury yourself in blankets and stuffed animals, or (safely) make a burrow outside. Whatever is accessible to you!

Bathe in the sun and appreciate its warmth.

Pounce and run around if you are able to! See how high you can jump or how fast you can run.

Snoop around and be a sleuth. Find new details in the places you see every day, or learn something new about a topic you’re interested in.

Find new hiding spots in your den! Whether that be your house, your room, the outdoors, or somewhere else— it’s always nice to have hiding spots to be comfy in!

Bark, yip, and yell! If you can’t, then listen to videos of other foxes calling out. Even if you can’t make sounds, you can appreciate the tune of others!

Admire the beauty of nature around you. Look at clouds, plants, the sun bouncing off the walls. Urban or rural, crowded or quiet: nature is everywhere, if you know where to find it.

Be observant to what is around you— see if you can notice different sounds, smells, or sights that you haven’t noticed before.

Stalk around your den or the area around it at night. It’s always important to have a secure den, but make sure to be safe when protecting your space

Collect things! Feathers, sticks, stones… anything that catches your eye.

If they’ll let you, bite or nip (playfully) at your friends or your stuffed animals.

Go on hikes and connect with nature, if possible. If not, then watch videos of others going hiking or look at nature cams!

If you have biting instincts and no way to let them out, try to find or make nature-themed chewelry!

Make art about red foxes to better connect with the fox within. Songs, drawings, sculptures, poems— anything art and every kind of art is beautiful.

Now here are some snack ideas you can try while shifting to help you feel like a hunter in the forest!

Snacks:

Chicken nuggets make a great meal! You can have them plain, or you could have them with your favorite condiments.

Salads: fruits, vegetables, or omnivorous! You could have a chicken salad, a salad with tons of veggies, or a salad with tons of berries— there are so many options!

Berries in general! Raspberries, bananas, blueberries, huckleberries… whatever kind you like!

Fish tacos make a great alternative to regular tacos if you don’t like traditional meat, and there are lots of fish that you could make them out of.

Nuts and granola bars are nice to have if you need a quick energy boost!

Eggs, eggs, eggs! Foxes eat lots of various eggs in the forest, but if you aren’t too experimental with your types of food, you can just stick to normal chicken eggs. But, you could try cooking the eggs in different ways! Scrambled, sunny side, fried, poached— just like berries, there are so many options.

Jam is great if you need some good fruit in your diet. It can be tart, tangy, or sweet!

You could also take a spin at some new kinds of meat you haven’t tried! Whether that be venison, rabbit, duck, or something else, expanding your meat pallet is a great way to lean into your foxish nature.

Here are some gear ideas for you if you want to lean into the physical side of your foxish-ness!

Gear:

Auburn, orange, or other warm-toned hair colors are a great way to connect yourself to a fox more. Just look at those reddish coats!

If you want something more alternative, you could also get fox hair, which is usually blonde hair with orange and black tips. Another variation of fox hair is a dark orange color fading into black!

Ears! There are numerous independent small businesses who specialize in animal ears, including fox ones! If you can’t afford those, however, don’t worry— making your own is just as rewarding and fun!

Wearing socks is a great way to create a look similar to a fox’s coat. You can wear dark brown or black socks of any length to make you feel more comfortable in your coat.

Leg and arm warmers— paired with the tip above, if you so choose— can also help bring your foxy appearance to a new level.

You can make or buy gloves, fingerless or not, with paw pads on them to resemble your very own paws! If you’re able to, you can also try to make some with claws!

Makeup, if accessible, is fun to do and can help you resemble a fox more. Warmer tones and giving yourself foxlike features might help you feel like yourself in the vessel you operate.

Furry coats worn when not too hot could help give you the feeling of a fuzzy pelt!

Tinkly jewelry like fun bangles or necklaces might be able to fulfill your gathering or hoarding instincts— decking yourself out in other piercings and trinkets is also fun to do, species euphoria or not!

To help remind you of the forest, you can decorate your mobility aids with naturey items! Whether that be wrapping vines around your wheelchair or cane or decorating your bags or braces with stickers, surrounding yourself with remnants of the forest can bring back those warm feelings of home.

There’s nothing like music to help you feel more connected to your species! These playlists might make you feel more at home when shifting.

(I didn’t make any of these, but props to those who did!)

And last but not least, some moodboards, all created by me! One is for gear, one relates to physicality, and the other is about red foxes themselves <3

I hope you enjoy this one— I had a total blast making it!

Fox banners belong to @kodaswrld !!

My requests are open ! :D

#sunny requests ☀️#alterhuman #nonhuman #otherhuman #otherkin #otherkith #pet regression #sfw interaction only #therian #therian activities #therian tumblr #therianthropy #foxkin #fox therian #fox theriotype #fox activities #otherkin activities #fox thoughts #fox things

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 8 days ago

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Hanley Waters: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Summary: Evaluations are here, and Hotch needs to make sure where everywhere is after Emily's death. You were able to busy yourself with the case in Tampa, but now you have to face reality and speak your mind.

Season Six Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If any warnings exceed the normal deaths/kills from the show, I will list them.

And happen it did. Not even hours later, there is another shooting. This time, it's at one of the checkpoints that the police have set up all over town. Only one officer was shot and another was nearly run down by the unsub. She was stopped and wasn't pulling forward so the officer who was shot approached her car. From what you can see on her face that's becoming clearer every time you connect with her energy, she's in full panic mode. Not panic like she'll get caught but panic for someone else. Panic like a mother would have.

The officer tried getting her out of the car when she shot him and almost ran over the other officer.

"The officer is in critical condition."

"Did anyone get a plate?"

"No, just a partial description. Teal green wagon. This woman opens fire in broad daylight at a police checkpoint."

Hotch takes out his phone and calls Penelope.

"She's desperate. This was an act of survival. Where does this road lead?" Rossi asks.

"I-275. Florida Highway Patrol has traffic cams all the way to St. Pete. She won't get far."

"Two EMTs just got shot in Oakford Park," Hotch says.

"Where is that?"

"It's the opposite direction. She went back?"

"She's on a mission."

"Hotch, I think she's a mother. She's hurting like she lost something no mother should ever have to lose. A child," you say.

"I think you're right."

You head back to the station with Hotch, Rossi, and Thiers to meet up with the rest of the team.

"Her emotional turmoil appears to be manifesting in the geographic pattern of her spree. There's a reason why she hasn't left." Spencer pulls out the map he's been working on. "Her first was the gun store in west Tampa, then the security guard in Ybor City, then the officer at the checkpoint in Riverside Heights, then finally the EMTs in Oakford Park."

"There's no logic. She circled back after getting through a roadblock. She's driven purely by emotion. She doesn't care about self-preservation or escape. It's like she has nothing to live for."

"She suffered a loss and she's blaming someone else for it," you say. "My guess is she lost a child whether that be in death or because the child was taken from her."

There is enough for a profile, so Chief Thiers gathers his men and women to hear what your team has to say.

"We're looking for a white female between the ages of thirty and forty driving a teal green station wagon. The only thing that matters is her behavior which is random. She's all over the place. She could have escaped through that roadblock, but she circled back instead. This tells us she's got a score to settle. Here. Today."

"Like what?" Chief Thiers asks.

"When emotional decisions drive an unsub, it's usually connected to an incredible loss, the idea that there's nothing to live for. We believe that this woman's been through the devastating loss of a child," Hotch says.

"She woke up this morning, loaded up with bullets, and stole a gun. That is not a typical Wednesday. Today means something to her. She's been lashing out at the hero, and we believe that's because she feels deeply betrayed by the one who let her down."

"The fact that her anger seems to be focused on first responders instead of hospital personnel or doctors indicates that her child probably didn't die of natural causes. Most likely it was some kind of accident. If so, she believes he should have been saved but wasn't," you explain. "Rage like this has been built up over time, possibly years. It's debilitating. She probably hasn't been a functioning member of society since the loss of her child."

"This rampage was her final attempt to be heard. What she started ends today."

Not to your surprise, there are reports of another shooting, and Hotch puts the news on the TV.

"Police say this dangerous suspect has left a trail of blood behind her. After wounding an officer at a roadblock, she circled back and fired at two paramedics. Luckily she missed, keeping her body count at five. A source inside the Tampa PD told us FBI profilers have been brought in to help witht he investigation."

"We need to try to communicate with this woman directly," Hotch says.

"She's not talking. She's just shooting."

"She feels ignored," you say. "The media is sensationalizing the story. She'll continue to respond violently to regain control."

"She shot a cop. The men she's targeted are my responsibility."

"You asked for our help. Let us do our job." Hotch looks at you. "I want you to talk to her."

"Me?"

"You're our best bet. She's emotional and no one knows emotions better than you."

He's right but that doesn't mean you have to like it. Still, you put on a brave face and stand in front of the press once the conference is called. Hotch stands next to you as a sort of moral support, but this one is all on you.

"My name is Y/N with the FBI. Our team has come from Quantico, Virginia because we want to talk to you. We know that you have a personal message that you need to share with the world. All we ask is that you stop hurting people because we are listening." You look up from the cards and decide just to speak from the heart. "I know you're hurting like no one should be hurting. No mother should have to go through what you're going through. I need you to know that you are not alone. I know right now it seems like the whole world is against you but we're not. You see him everywhere, don't you? You hear him calling out to you. I'm here to tell you that it's normal to feel what you're feeling but if you don't want to feel this pain anymore, please call us at 1-800-555-0140. We will help you."

"Aren't we gonna get flooded by people calling that number?" Ashley asks from the sidelines.

"I am hawkeyeing the cell towers in her comfort zone. If anyone calls from there, I will know first and fast," Penelope responds.

An hour passes, then it turns to two. You're sitting in the police station trying your best to focus on the case. It's hard when all that's on your mind is Emily.

"There have been no leads on the hotline and no sign of her vehicle," Chief Thiers sighs.

"This woman obviously has a plan. The only clear decision she made this morning was walking into that gun store. There are eight of them in her comfort zone. Why choose that one?"

"Convinence," Ashley shrugs. "Maybe it's close to where she lives."

"If we're saying this morning is when she was the most clear-headed, then it was a conscious decision to walk into that particular store."

Penelope calls and Derek patches her through on speakerphone.

"I have hundreds of teal wagons. None of the registrations match the physical description of our unsub."

"What about the gun store?"

"I searched the entire history of Larry's gun shop. Nothing of significance has ever happened there aside from this morning's massacre. On top of that, those six hundred plus registered .38 owners bought them all over the city, so we're pretty much screwed unless you can think of some other kind of connection."

"This date means something to her. Pen, we profiled that it was a major loss. Run accident reports. Look for young victims. She seems to be going after heros like paramedics."

"I'm doing that now, but this will take forever. Tampa's got almost half a million people. Everybody's got a story. How am I even supposed to..." She pauses. "Oh. My superskills just squelched my pessimism. I have a couple of accidents here that happened in the last few years on or around today's date. Please hold while I deduce. This looks promising. Okay, there was a high-speed traffic chase in West Tampa last year. A policeman was killed."

"Who were they chasing?"

"Hanley Waters."

"Maybe he's the target."

"Can't be. He's in jail. He started a whole mess because he decided to do an armed robbery at a liquor store, and then have a high-speed car chase with the cops. Oh, there's video. It's three hundred and sixty-five days ago to the dot. I'm sending this to your tablets. Observe and prepare yourself."

You grab a tablet and watch the high speed chase from an arial view. Hanley runs a red light and smashes into a car that is in the middle of the intersection going a different direction.

"Who got hit?"

"Shelly Chamberlain. She was unhurt. Her six-year-old Damion died."

"That's her," you say.

"Today is... Damion's birthday."

"Your son enters and leaves your life on the same date. That's one hell of a stressor," Rossi sighs. "It explains why she went on her spree today. All the good and bad memories are hitting her at once."

"To add salt to it all, the fallen policeman was the only one who got any attention. Damion was like a footnote."

"If Shelly is our unsub and the man who caused this is in jail, then who's her target?"

"It might be Damion's father," you say. "If I had to guess, they were a happy family before this. She got hit and lost her son, and that ruined her marriage. They get divorced and he moves on while she's still stuck in the past. She's angry at her ex-husband for doing what she can't. It's just a guess though."

"It's a good guess," Hotch says. "Garcia, what's Shelly's marital status?"

"Don Chamberlain, city firefighter. He filed for divorce three months ago."

"He could be the next target of her rage, the man who didn't bear witness to her grief."

"Morgan and Y/N, you find him. Dave and I will go to Shelly's house."

Hotch and Rossi find the box of bullets that Shelly owns, but Don must have taken the gun when he moved out. Not only that, but the mirrors in the house have all been smashed. She can't stand to look at herself. She's guilty for surviving when her son didn't. She's got tired of waking up to feeling guilt, worthlessness, and hopelessness.

Though, her son's room is immaculate. Nothing has been touched. She can't bear to walk into that room. She can't let go.

When you get to Don's house with Spencer and Derek, you see Shelly's car in the driveway but Don's car is gone. She must have left with him somewhere.

"She beats us here and moved with him in his car. Why didn't she just kill him? She didn't travel with any of her other victims," you say.

"He must play some part in the fantasy of her rage. She wants to punish him for something."

You head inside and frown at the lack of pictures around. Don really doesn't want to remember the past.

"There is not a single reminder of Damion anywhere in this house. Do you think Don moved on already?"

"Would you after a year?" you ask.

"Look at this." You and Derek look at Spencer who is playing something on the TV. It's a video of the family including Damion. There is music where there should be talking. He most likely did it to cover his wife's voice. "Don edited it together and he put music to it. This is how he grieved."

"Yeah, but she wouldn't know that. She might force him to grieve the same way she does."

"Where? Their son's grave?" With a little more digging around, you come across a box of memories, all with Damion. Movie stub tickets, pictures, toys he loved. Everything about him. "Look at this." Inside is a bunch of receipts for the same restaurant. "It looks like they celebrated their son's third, fourth, and fifth birthday at Sir Burger."

"Her day is coming to an end, and today's an anniversary. That's gotta be where she's going. Let's go."

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds series rewrite

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waltermis · 2 years ago

Text

Scaredy Cat

MASTERLIST ↠ NATASHA ROMANOFF MASTERLIST

Summary: Who knew carving a pumpkin could be so damn difficult?

Warnings: swearing, Tony’s precious kitchen is destroyed

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader (romantic), Avengers x reader (platonic)

↠↠↠

“Noooooo! Natty! That’s not right!!!!!!!!”

“I don’t know what you want from me, detka!!!”

↠↠↠

“Natalia Alianovna Romanoff!!! Put down the knife right now!”

“NO!!!! YOU’RE THE ONE WHO GAVE IT TO ME AFTER THE TINY ONE BROKE!!! NOW LET ME DO IT!!!”

↠↠↠

“What’re you guys doing?” Steve asked, as he entered the living room. Inside was the entire team of Avengers, who look like they’re looking at… Natasha and you…?

“We’re watching Natasha and Y/N carve a pumpkin.” Wanda explained, never taking her eyes off the screen.

“What? What’s so interesting about that?”

“Y/N bought a pumpkin for them to carve but Nat’s trying to carve a scary face in it and Y/N wants to make it look like a cat.” Clint answered.

“What? Are they carving one singular pumpkin?”

“Yup,” Tony said, distractedly

“Why don’t they just carve two different pumpkins?”

“Y/N/N thought it would be a nice couples thing… Popcorn?” he offered.

“Sure… why not.” Steve grabbed a handful as he sat next to Bucky and Sam.

↠↠↠

“Will you quit trying to make it look scary?!” you screeched, horrified at the face your cat was making.

“Stop trying to hold me back!!! I want a scary pumpkin!!!” Natasha yelled, raising her knife.

“Do not try to threaten me!”

“I wasn’t trying to!!” Natasha argued back.

“Then don’t raise your knife at me!”

“I wasn’t!”

“DO NOT LIE TO ME!!!!” You seethed.

“Whatever!!! Just carve the stupid pumpkin!”

“You know what, no.”

“No?”

“I have a better idea…”

↠↠↠

The team looked confused, as the security camera cut out. “What? What happened??” Sam asked, his mouth stuffed with popcorn.

“No idea…” Tony said, just as confused. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. run a diagnostic scan.”

“It appears that the security camera has been disconnected by Miss L/N.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. responded.

“Can’t you connect it again?” Thor asked, cradling his poptarts.

“It appears to have been done manually,”

“What does that mean?” Bucky asked.

“It means that Y/N either cut the wire or just ripped the whole thing out.” Tony said, “knowing Y/N, it’ll be the latter one. F.R.I.D.A.Y. can you order more cables for the security cams?”

“Already done, sir.”

Before the team could say another word, they heard a huge crash and bang coming from the kitchen. Quickly, they ran towards the sound, only to the entire kitchen covered in pumpkin guts. The top to bottom, ceiling to floor, the entire room was covered. You and Natasha fared no better, Natasha had guts in her hair while you had pumpkin seeds and guts stuck to your clothes and caked onto your skin.

“What the fuck happened in here?!” Tony let out a shrill cry as he looked at his beloved kitchen.

“Well, Nat and I couldn’t figure out how to carve our pumpkin so we just started flinging the pumpkin’s guts at each other.” you answered, wiping away some of the guts from your eyes. Natasha looked at you and smiled, before helping you wipe it all away.

“Who knew a pumpkin had so much inside of it.” Natasha commented.

“I know right?!”

“So, did you guys end up choosing between a cat or a scary face?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah, we… wait, how did you know what faces we were choosing?” you questioned, looking at them suspiciously. “Oh my god! Were you spying on us?!”

“Noooooooo…” they all declined quickly.

“Uh huh… right…” Natasha said, unconvinced.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. said you disconnected the security feed. Please tell me you didn’t rip the wires to shreds.” Tony said, still gaping at what was once his immaculate kitchen.

“Nope, just disconnected it so you guys couldn’t see what we were doing. After Nat and I clean up, I’m gonna go save a couple copies of the feed.” you said.

“Oh, yeah! Bruce, to answer your question, we did end up choosing the pumpkin’s face.” you said, picking it up and showing it off.

“So you picked the cat face?” Wanda asked.

“And the scary face.” you added, turning the pumpkin around to show Natasha’s terrifying carving. “May I present to you, Scaredy Cat.”

“That’s pretty cute.” Clint complimented.

“Thanks…” Natasha responded.

“Why Scaredy Cat?” Thor asked.

“Because it has a scary face and it’s a cat. What’s so hard to understand?” you asked.

“Yeah, exactly. What’s so hard to understand? Now if you’ll excuse me, my girlfriend and I need to shower.” Natasha said, dragging you away.

“What?! No!! Clean this up!!” Tony said, still having a meltdown about his kitchen.

“What was that, Stark? Too far away can’t hear you! Love you! Byeeeeeeeee!!” you said, as Natasha cackled, along with you.

↠↠↠

822 words

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #avengers #avengers x reader #natasha x reader #tony stark #steve rogers #clint barton #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #thor odinson #bucky barnes #bruce banner #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x y/n

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heavyhitterheaux · 2 years ago

Text

Teenage Woes Part 3

Synopsis: You and Jack finally decide on a fair punishment for the triplets, and they get a rude awakening when they are forced out of their comfort zone.

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Read Part 1 and Part 2 first

First Babies of Private Garden Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

It had been a week since Jack had gotten his privileges back and he wasted absolutely no time once you had told him. At this point, the triplets were still walking on eggshells around you and in order not to do anything to piss you off, if they had a question they wouldn't ask you unless absolutely necessary.

Jack had convinced you to take a bath and had run the water for you along with lighting a few of your favorite candles and adding your favorite bath bombs. Within five minutes, he was climbing into the tub behind you, and you were surprised that it had taken him that long.

Your head was laying on his chest and the two of you were in a comfortable silence when you broke it by poking his cheek and starting to play with his beard.

"Yes, baby?"

"I've thought long and hard about this and if we agree on this, we can move forward with a proper punishment for them."

"I had been thinking too, but you go first." Jack said while kissing the tip of your nose and you smiled.

"They're going to public school and we are no longer paying for them to go to a private school. That comes with privileges and having the right attitude and being respectful."

"At least for a semester, you agree?"

You slowly nodded your head yes.

"No one is allowed to use their cell phone or drive unless we let them. Axel and Ivy need to get part time jobs and Ivy asked me if babysitting Nova counts even though she's 12. I expected her to ask about Cash and Cam seeing that they're only 6."

"No she didn't ask that…" Jack said while stifling a laugh and looking at you in disbelief and all you did was nod.

"And I have another suggestion." Jack started to say and you nodded for him to go on.

"They give us a percentage of their paycheck every two weeks and we tell them it goes towards bills, but we actually put it in another savings account for them and they can't even touch that one until they're 30."

"Hmm, I like that idea. I can open a new account tomorrow."

"One way or another they are going to learn to respect us and I think that this will be the wake up call that they need."

"I think one of the things that sticks out and pisses me off the most is Axel smoking. Knowing that he had to be intubated multiple times when he was born and has a heart murmur. He's lucky that we even let him play soccer. And has asthma. Like is he trying to put himself in the hospital because I'm convinced that he is. I get that I experimented, well we both did, however we didn't do anything that stupid."

"And remember the time we found weed and he tried to blame it on Urban?" Jack added and all you did was shake your head.

"I swear, I don't recognize my kids anymore. At least the other three act like they have some sense."

"When should we tell them?"

"Well school starts back up next week so I can call tomorrow and get them enrolled and can you be in charge of making sure they find jobs?"

"Of course baby, and they can't work for us either. Because I know Ivy will ask."

"They are in for a rude awakening. We'll tell them tomorrow and if someone disobeys our rules, a disciplinary school is next. Never thought I would say that out loud but here we are."

"I hope we don't get to that point, but if we do, so be it."

"I just checked on all of them and Autumn snuck out again. She's not in her room and I watched the security cameras."

"Hmm, she can have her fun now but come tomorrow she's going to be in for it. I don't even have the energy to yell or argue with them anymore. It's the fact that I'm calm and I admit that's probably the scariest thing that I could be."

"Oh, trust me, I know."

All you did was eye him as he leaned down to kiss you.

"I love you."

"And I love you even when you get on my nerves."

"Was that last part really necessary?" Jack asked as he sucked his teeth, but all you did was laugh.

"Of course it was. Wouldn't be me if I didn't say it."

Jack simply rolled his eyes as he began to kiss down your neck and you knew where this was going.

"You aren't tired yet?" You asked and he immediately shook his head no.

"I've missed out on an entire month and I need to make up for lost time so spread your legs and let me work."

The next morning, you got up early and fixed breakfast for everyone for the first time in about a month and a half. Jack woke up about thirty minutes after you and came down to help you. All you could basically put him in charge of was drinks, but you were still grateful to have his company.

Meanwhile upstairs, the triplets had congregated in Axel's room and they were confused since they heard both of you downstairs and knew that something had to be up.

"She's actually cooking…" Ivy whispered, not actually believing it herself.

"Well maybe she forgives us?" Axel suggested but the girls shook their heads no.

"That's way too easy. She couldn't have and she didn’t even say anything about it either."

"Uncle Urby said she holds grudges like no other and the last thing we want to do is be in the line of fire when she gets pissed off."

"But we're her kids. She can't stay mad at us forever."

"Autumn, you've done enough shit for her to be mad at you for the rest of your life." Axel said and she immediately rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, okay. Don't say anything when you cough up a lung knowing that you smoke and have asthma." She quickly fired back as Ivy simply sighed.

Jack suddenly knocked on Axel's door and peeked his head in startling them.

"You three get your brothers and sister and come eat."

"Dad! What is mom up to?" Axel asked and all Jack did was laugh to himself.

"You three will find out soon enough, come on."

The three of them exchanged nervous looks as Jack walked away and went back downstairs.

"Welp, we're all going to die. So it was nice knowing you two." Ivy said before walking out Axel's room to get Nova while Axel went to get his brothers.

Once downstairs, everyone had fixed their plate and was eating at the table when you and Jack were simply eyeing each other making the triplets even more nervous. Ivy quickly caught on with you two exchanging looks and finally asked.

“Um, why are you two looking at each other like that?”

“Babe, you want to tell them?” Jack asked while looking at you as you were sipping on your tea.

“Well, if you insist. Ivy, Axel, Autumn, the oldest of my children who I carried for 33 weeks and had to be resuscitated twice once they cut you out of me even though Autumn claimed that it wasn't a big deal and you all still continue to disrespect me, me and your father have something to tell all of you.”

“Wait…. YOU DIED?” Axel exclaimed since you had actually never told them.

“Not once, but twice. Stay on topic, Axel. And you almost did too, but that's not what this conversation is about." Jack quickly cut in while the girls were looking at you with concern.

“But you never told us that!” Ivy exclaimed and Autumn looked to be upset.

"We need to unpack that because…. WHAT?"

“Another story for another day when the three of you are actually back in my good graces again.”

Nova, Cash, and Cam stopped eating to try and listen in on what was going on with their siblings as they nervously looked on.

“Come next week, the three of you will be going to public school since me and your father are not going to pay for you three to go to private school that has top tier educators and continue to disrespect us so that’s a thing of the past, Ivy and Axel, you two need to get jobs and all three of you will decide which bill you want to contribute to in the house since Autumn already has one. You are not allowed to have your cell phone unless we say so and you can only drive to and from work. If one of you steps a toe out of line, you don’t want to know what is going to come after that because you definitely won’t like it. I do not expect any failing grades either.”

There was only silence for a matter of seconds before you quickly heard their protests.

“PUBLIC SCHOOL?”

“WITH NORMAL PEOPLE!?”

“WE HAVE TO PAY BILLS NOW?!”

“WE HAVE TO RIDE THE BUS TOO?!”

“As long as you live in this house you will abide by our rules and respect them and we aren’t going back on this punishment so you three will have to deal with it.” Jack told them as Ivy simply had her mouth hanging wide open, but her face quickly turned to a look of anger as she looked at Autumn.

“This is all your fault! You told her that we were cut out and not pushed out and looked what happened!” Ivy said while rolling her eyes.

“How is this all my fault? I didn’t tell you to cuss out your teacher!”

“No, but you had to go and be a bitch and be disrespectful to our mother who would do anything for us and you’ve acted out ever since Nova was born because you were jealous that you weren’t the baby anymore!”

“We were only four when she was born!”

“And you still act as if you’re four years old! You almost let Nova fall down the steps ON PURPOSE when she was little and she would have seriously gotten hurt if I didn’t catch her in time! You’ve always been the one to get in trouble and now we’re in trouble right along with you! And always beg daddy to bail you out when you know that you’re in the wrong. You’re so selfish!”

“How am I selfish? I have covered for you plenty of times when you snuck out with Damien!”

“YOU LITERALLY SNUCK OUT LAST NIGHT!”

“YOU TWO, SHUT IT RIGHT NOW! And we do NOT call each other names, Ivy!” You yelled and the two of them instantly went quiet.

“Ivy, when did you sneak out?” Jack asked while looking at her and all she did was stare back at him while picking off her fingernail polish.

“Don’t lie because we have security cameras.” He continued as Autumn was smirking.

“Autumn wipe that smirk off your face. It looks like we now have to make an executive decision. Babe? They do their junior year and entire senior year in public school.”

“Now, wait a second! I was going to be dance captain this year!”

“Autumn, shut your mouth because I’m not waiting for a damn thing and it looks like they’ll have to choose someone else. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes and Ax, you’ve been mighty quiet but let me tell you if we as much catch you smoking or even smell weed on you knowing that you have asthma, you don’t want to know what’s going to happen. The last thing we ever want is you having an asthma attack and getting a call from the hospital because your inhaler didn’t work. We have gotten enough calls from the hospital concerning you to last more than four lifetimes. When you were born you literally couldn’t even breathe on your own.”

“And no boyfriends or girlfriends so NO dating. Open your mouth to talk back to either of us and we’ll ship you off to military school at this very moment. Your choice, so choose wisely. Now enjoy your breakfast while I make a few calls. Jack, the only thing that they can look on their phones for are jobs today. Once they fill out at least five applications, they have to give it back to you. Do you agree?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“We love the three of you very much, but you’ve left us no choice and have brought this on yourselves. I hope this serves as a good lesson to you and maybe just maybe if you three actually stick to being on your best behavior, you’ll slowly start to earn your privileges back.”

“Mommy?” You heard Cash ask and you quickly turned to him.

“Yes, my baby?”

“Can I have more orange juice?”

“Of course you can and Nova and Autumn come in the living room.”

“Am I in trouble?” Nova asked terrified as you poured juice for Cash and you shook your head no. She hated getting in trouble and would always cry when she was younger if she was caught doing something that she wasn’t supposed to do.

“No, just need you for a second.”

The three of you walked into the living room and you gestured for them to sit down.

“Autumn, I am tired of this imaginary competition between you and Nova and it needs to stop at this very moment.”

“I…”

“No, and do not pretend to not know what I’m talking about because Ivy is right. We prepped you as much as we could but I didn’t even know I was pregnant with her because I would have liked to have done a better job. You are now 16 years old and she is 12 and looks up to her big sisters and wants to be like you and Ivy. We love all of you EQUALLY and no one has gotten special treatment at any time. So, do a better job of being a sister to her. I don’t have mine anymore and I wish that I did so the two of you better learn to get along. When me and your dad are not here anymore, all you’re going to have is each other. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” She quietly said while looking down at her feet.

“Nova, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“The two of you can go finish eating.”

“Mom, what ever happened to your sister?” Nova quietly asked as she got up from the couch and Autumn went back into the kitchen.

“It’s not important and it’s a story for another day.”

The triplets were three weeks into the school year when all three of them came through the front door and you could tell that Ivy had been crying. Jack was the first one to notice and asked her what was wrong.

“Ivy? What’s going on?”

“I HAVE TO WORK TODAY! WHEN AM I GOING TO FIND TIME TO DO MY HOMEWORK? AND IT’S SO HARD. I HATE PUBLIC SCHOOL.”

“Me and your mother went to public school and we turned out just fine. You’ll be okay.” Jack replied while shrugging and looking at her, when she was quiet, he spoke again.

“I hope you weren’t expecting sympathy from me because if you were, you need to look elsewhere.”

“But…”

Just then you came down the steps and saw how upset she was and asked what had happened.

“What’s going on?”

“She’s fine. Ivy, go get ready for work and you’ll do your homework once you get back.”

“I AM NOT FINE! Mommy can I PLEASE go back to private school? Public school is scary and the food doesn’t taste good and they don’t have Fiji water in the cafeteria and the drama club sucks, and….”

You held up your hand to cut her off and all she did was sigh.

“Give it a chance, bubs. You’re only three weeks in and I have the utmost faith in you.” You said while pinching her cheek and all she did was sigh.

“You two aren’t changing your minds any time soon, are you?” Axel quietly asked while looking at how frustrated his sister was.

“Nope.” Both of you said at the same time and you went to lay in Jack’s lap as you grabbed his phone from him to order food since you had been busy all day and didn’t really have time to sit down.

“If I finish my homework before dinner, can I play on my phone for an hour?" Autumn quietly asked and the two of you simply turned around to look at her.

"Never mind. Can I watch Netflix then?"

"Hmm, what do you think?" Jack asked while looking down at you.

"It's Wednesday. No."

"Anddd there's your answer Autumn. You can read a book instead." Jack said as he looked towards her and all she did was nod her head accepting that as an answer before going upstairs while you scrolled through Jack’s phone.

"You know Nova asked me what happened to my sister a few weeks ago."

"Are you going to tell them?" Jack asked as you handed him his phone for him to add what he wanted to the cart.

"It's not all that important. It's not affecting their lives."

"But it's affecting yours. Not as much as before but it still is."

All you did was shrug.

"No matter how much time has passed and how much she wants to talk to me, I am never giving her the time of day or him for that matter. They knew what they were doing all along for it to come back and kick them in the ass later. She literally will never be in my good graces again. She had more kids other than me so she can focus on them. She literally did drugs while pregnant with me and I was born to addicted to a whole bunch of shit so she can go fuck herself. Anyway, did you add what you wanted? I want a milkshake too."

"I added it. It should be here in an hour."

"Okay. I just want them to understand that when we're not here anymore, all they're going to have is each other and they need to start treating each other better. Especially Autumn and Nova. Nova just kind of brushes it off, but I know it still bothers her. While Autumn can just be downright mean sometimes to her. And the thing is that she had her little jealous phase and I thought she grew out of it, but within the last few months she's doing it again."

"I think because of you telling them that, that they'll come around and be better about it. When I see those two, I get flashbacks of me and Clay and I do not want that happening again. And Autumn has got the message loud and clear now. We aren't putting up with her shit anymore."

"And it won't. In the end, I know that they'll be okay and it will just take a little while for them to get there."

"Now, are you sure we can't make another one?" Jack asked you and you looked up at him like he was crazy.

"Another WHAT?!"

"Um, never mind. I'll ask you later."

"If you are talking about me bringing another person into this world, the answer is no."

"But…"

"We have 3 boys and 3 girls. We are done. My uterus is done. My vagina is done."

"I'll ask you again next week."

All you did was look up to Jack to see him smirking and trying not to laugh and you couldn’t help but to laugh yourself.

"I cannot stand you."

All he did was lean down to kiss you and you continued to laugh as he placed kisses all over your face.

"It's just because you're a damn good mother. Just to watch the way you love and care for them is amazing and I knew from the beginning it was going to be like that, despite what was going on between us."

"Those first two years were hard. Between me wanting to separate from you, postpartum depression, thinking that we were going to have to bury one child, but we're still here."

"We are and thriving despite what may be happening around us."

"I'm so thankful you were able to realize something was wrong with me when that happened." You quietly said as you thought back on it.

"I know you like the back of my hand and inside and out… literally. I know when something is wrong with my baby. But seriously, that scared the absolute shit out of me. Second to their actual birth."

"I can't describe it, but it was a weird feeling. Like an out of body experience you could say."

"And that's why you were nervous to have Nova, scared that it was going to happen again."

"And thankfully it didn't."

"I don't know what I would have done without you and I know I tell you this all the time, but I seriously do not take for granted every single moment I get to have with you. Even if we're having a good day or not. I literally cannot put into words how much I love you."

"The good always outweighs the bad and I love you more than life."

"We can get through anything as long as we have each other."

The triplets were at the top of the steps as they overheard you and Jack talking and if they didn't just feel bad before, they felt even worse now.

They didn't say anything to each other as Ivy went downstairs to ask the both of you for her keys so that she could drive to work.

"Um, can I have my keys please?"

Since you were laying on Jack’s lap, he simply got up, but picked you up along with him with you letting out a yelp and went to get them out of the safe.

"Jackman, you can put me down now." You said as you laughed. He placed you on your feet before handing Ivy her keys.

"Go to work and then come home. No detours because we will find out." Jack told her and she simply nodded before grabbing both of you and pulling you into a hug, startling you both.

"Um, bubs, are you okay?" You quietly asked while hugging her back.

"Yes, I just love you both a whole lot. I have the best parents in the world."

"Oh. Well we love you too." Jack said while looking down at you confused and all you did was shrug.

"I'll see you both when I get back." Was all that she said before she walked out the door and all you and Jack did was look at each other.

"What just happened?" Jack quietly asked while looking at you, but you were at a loss for words.

"I'm not really sure, but I'm not mad at it."

It was now nearing the end of the semester and the triplets had been on their best behavior and following all of the rules that you and Jack had set in place for them.

The both of you knew that their report cards would be sent home today and were hoping for good results.

You were currently in your room looking over possible dresses that Julissa sent over for an upcoming event and you had told her that by the end of the day, you would decide which one you wanted.

Your door was open as Autumn poked her head in and knocked.

"Mommy?"

"I don't even remember the last time you called me that. Is something wrong?" You said while looking at her in the doorway and she quickly shook her head no.

"Then what's going on? And are you just going to stand in the doorway or come in?" You asked her and she quickly came in to sit next to you and simply stared at you.

"I got my report card." She said while handing it to you.

You took it from her and looked it over seeing that she had gotten all A's and B's.

"This is good, bubs. I'm proud of you." You said while looking back up at her and all she did was start to cry.

"Autumn? What's wrong?" You asked while putting her report card on your dresser and hugging her as she cried into your chest.

"I'm such a horrible daughter and sister. My siblings probably hate me."

"What?! No you aren't! And no one in this house hates you!"

"You and daddy have given me so many chances that I really shouldn't have gotten. And Nova does hate me! I've been nothing but mean to her since she was born!"

"Okay, Autumn, you need to breathe. Like I said no one hates you. Nova is just in her own little world, and has a very big heart. You’re her sister that she looks up to and all she wants is for the two of you to get along. I know that she'll forgive you and she wants the two of you to be close."

"And you went through so much to give birth to us and I'm sorry that I ever said that it wasn't a big deal. You died. Twice. And went through postpartum depression and you were going to separate from daddy and…."

"Pause. How did you know that last part?"

"We overheard the two of you talking." She quietly said while looking up at you.

All you did was sigh.

"Autumn Danielle, all six of you are our greatest joy and I wouldn’t change a thing because that's how we got to this point. You've been doing a lot better and all we want is for all of you to be successful, respectful, and responsible, knowing that you can lose everything in a blink of an eye. Just continue to do better, okay?"

"Okay." She said while sniffling and hugging you tighter.

"I love you and I'm sorry if I don't say it enough or don't act like it." Autumn added while playing with her bracelet that you and Jack had bought her for her birthday.

"I love you too and that is never going to change. We are always going to be here for you no matter what."

Just then Axel peeked into the room to see the two of you and made his way in also having his report card in hand.

"Mom?"

"She's occupied! Get your own!" You heard Autumn yell and all you did was laugh.

"What the? She is MY OWN. She was my mother before she was yours! I'm two minutes ahead of you!"

"And I also made it in here before you so you can leave. We were having a moment."

"Autumn, be nice! Ax, let me see the report card."

Once again, you saw all A's and B's.

"I expected nothing less, very proud of you."

"And I haven't smoked and I got your favorite muffins. They're downstairs."

"Oh, I would have known if you smoked anyway. I look at the number of puffs you have left on your inhaler. When you were using it more, you kept saying you needed another one."

"Um…"

"Bubs, I have 24 years on you. I wasn't born yesterday." You said while smirking at him.

"Autumn, move over." Ax said and she scooted over to make more room for him.

"Mom? Can we have tacos later?"

"Text your dad the ingredients that I need."

About two hours later, Jack walked in to see three of his oldest children surrounding you on the bed with all of you knocked out sleeping and all he could do was smile.

All he did was snap a quick picture to show you later.

Hearing his footsteps, you fluttered your eyes open to see your husband smiling at you.

"What?" You asked while smiling back at him and all he did was hand you his phone to look at the picture he took.

"No matter how old they get, they're always going to need us."

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#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow angst #jack harlow fluff #first babies of pg

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yourslaveandenemyandlover · 8 months ago

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ᯓ 𝑚𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡,

Yesterday I was watching Bones, S4: E17.

In that episode there’s was a moment of Arastoo giving Angela a cathartic mixtape he made for her. Two of the six songs on that cd were ‘heartbeats, and ‘fade into you’.

That scene reassured me on the idea that Bones is a custom TV show God (/the universe) made especially for me.

I can’t justify the bond I have with Bones, I just honestly love all the characters individually, and relate to every single one of them in the characteristics that make them differ from each other.

Booth is the loyalty, responsibility, and commitment I hope to find in the world. He’s the guy you can say ‘He would never do that’ and be certain about it. He’s security: stable as earth, a father, a partner, a man on what a man should be;

Brennan is a reminder that being weird and awkward can also be about being special, unique, and valuable. That you can be socially unfit, and still treasured by those who can really see you;

Angela is the perfect personification of what a confident woman should be, a woman that never learned insecurities, that feels entitled to her space, and knows how to read people without any ego;

Cam is everything an empowered woman should be, she has posture, demands respect, and presents herself as authority, without arrogance; she perceives herself we’ll enough to be comfortable with how she’s perceived by others;

Sweets is human, emphatic, loving, soft, and kind. He’s all of that, and also a brilliant young doctor. His sharp perception of people is never a weapon against people, is always an offer of improvement he keeps in his pocket;

Hodgins is a passionate conspiracy nut. Passionate. Hodgins lives his life a hundred percent in, cause he loves his job, he worships his wife, he’s devoted to his pears. He gives himself off completely to everything he committees to, his constancy is something you can rely on.

Arastoo is beautiful as an Arabic poem, he’s religion as religion should be. He presents such and honest and uncorrupted faith that made me understand faith as love.

I once saw a tiktok that claimed bones as the greatest autistic representation on TV, and I fully stand behind that.

Bones entered my life 10 years prior to my autism diagnosis, and now looking back with the lens I was given, our relationship makes so much sense.

Brennan, Hodgins, Sweets, Zach, Vincent, they’re all unintentionally beautiful representations of what autistic people really are. I don’t believe the writers intended on that but they nailed it.

Moreover, Bones is also a great tv show for autists cause of how well they work on characters development. We’re constantly working towards understanding people, and we can understand that team:

Booth’s loyalty makes sense to me;

Brennan’s inadequacy makes sense to me;

Hodgins special interests makes sense to me;

Angela’s self-assurance makes sense to me;

Camille’s humanity makes sense to me;

Sweets kindness makes sense to me;

Arastoo’s love makes sense to me.

These characters, they taught me about people, about what people should be; They presented to my autistic ass that was always trying to understand people, people I could understand, and admire, and love.

The show strikes me as one of those things that are supposed to exist, that happens cause the only possibility is they happening. It may not have a huge social significance but it’s important, for me, maybe to a couple other people, but it’s important, it should exist,

Anyways, I just wanted to share that, the way I related to something before I had the mechanisms to understand why, and how much something silly can mean.

Hope I’m making sense,

𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠, 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑦, 𝐶𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑎 ᡣ𐭩ᝰ.ᐟ

26•09•2024

#journal #diary #letters #bones tv #autism

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was-that-a-fanfic · 2 months ago

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Love Him Till The Day That You Die!

Batter up

Chapter 12: The Voice Out There

Last< --- >Next

It was clear that the encounter had shaken him.

Usually Doey went out of his way to stay under the doctors radar when scouting. Sticking to pipes and vent systems unless necessary. He’d been very successful at it in fact and hadn’t had a run in with the man in years.

To suddenly hear that voice again, to be its sole focus -

As soon as the stapler had left her hand, careening into the security cam and exploding it into a shower of sparking plastic and glass, Susan had dropped the monitor cord and almost vaulted the desk to get to his side faster. The viciousness in her gaze from moments ago completely gone instantly and now replaced with warmth and concern.

“ -’m okay.”

That wasn’t true, he felt dizzy, light headed as three sets of very different very traumatic memories vied for dominance in his mind and he struggled to not let them drag him under.

“I’m fine, we knew he was here. Let’s just - get what we came for.”

They were more watchful for cameras after that, but other than a few screens flickering on their approach not much else happened as they made their way through the rest of the offices.

A stuck door turned out to be blocked by a mummified guards body, one of many scattered or strung up in some fruitless final stand.

They’d been a captain, going by their badge, and Doey grimly wondered if it was one they’d have known. Musing how this must have felt after all the times they’d kettled toys for not working fast enough, or being too cheerful, or just because.

“I’m really not sure how they thought this would end any other way.” Susan pointed out solemnly,

Taking a moment once her son’s back was turned to spit on the captain of the child torturers before inching her way through the claustrophobic barricade of spikes and bodies.

The thick security door into the vault was ever so slightly open, but of course jammed in such a way to make it completely impassable, even to Doey.

In the lobby the security cameras to either side of the U shaped desk were higher than they’d been in the offices and Susan took a moment to consider them with a dull sort of disdain.

“Think I can hit them first try or do you want to do the honors?”

In answer he casually reached up and yanked each down, leaving only sparking wires behind.

She golf clapped as he gave a theatrical bow at the performance, taking a moment to giggle at their overacting before they began searching for their way through.

The only way open was the East Block, bars torn from the gate and vault door hanging wide open. But that was fairly useless since it was the exact opposite direction of where they needed to be and even if there was a path through the utility areas it would take far too long.

A bit of searching through the wardens office later-

Pausing a moment to watch the vhs within and scoffing over the warden falling for Sawyer swearing he would get the man out safe. It at least cleared up a few things, the warden had most likely died horrifically shortly after the hour had started, sawyer definitely had the omni-hand, and from the ‘my body is here’ comment he wasn’t human anymore. All had been assumed already but it was nice to have further evidence.

- and they found a security keycard, a pin number handily taped to it.

Even before they returned to the lobby there was a sinking suspicion as to which door the card opened, seeing as there were four hand scanners and five security doors, the heaviest of which loomed directly ahead as she approached the reader.

“Ready for another round of Whats Behind Door Number Two?”

She slid card into reader and keyed in the pin, the center door sliding open with a metallic grind

“Revisiting emotional trauma! Just what you always wanted!”

Her expression dropped from comically up beat to completely blank as she deadpanned an emotionless

“yay.”

He starred at her for a minute as she kept a straight face, not looking away from the door but watching him from the corner of her eye, before he burst into laughter leaving her feeling accomplished.

---

“We shouldn’t have to be in here too long I think, just down and back and the utility area should get us right over to the west block.”

She had her cobbled together map out again, pointing out the most likely to still be unobstructed path through.

“We don’t have to do this.” She said suddenly, drawing them up short just shy of the threshold “You can get there just find on your own and I could meet you there, wouldn’t take too long at all.”

The concern was appreciated and he certainly wasn’t looking forward to returning to their main place of captivity but they also couldn’t imagine leaving her to do this alone.

“Or we could just go through the east block, I’m sure it wouldn’t take that much longer to-mff!”

She was snatched right off her feet into an all enveloping hug.

“Thanks mom, but it’s okay. Got out of here once, I can handle it. Promise.”

---

The high security block was dark and cold, colder than the rest of the prison. To the point she could see her breath in the air.

The pack came off. One flashlight, then another were dug from it’s depths and the pack went back on.

The lights did little to cut through the gloom as they moved away from the narrow glow that spilled in from the lobby, but it was better than nothing. She checked the corners best she could, not immediately seeing any cameras but sure they were there. The stairs they needed were near the entrance off to the side but curiosity drew them further.

The holding cells were larger here, one wall of them nothing but thick reinforced glass looking in at the usual primary color padding, panels to the side marked with things like light, smoke, shock, freeze.

The first few she passed her beam over were empty, blood and scratches outside instead of in. Others had obviously broken out of. A cougar sized Candy Cat lay dead in the corner of another, left to starve from the looks of it. When she turned Doey had moved to a particular one at the end of the hall and starred into it dolefully.

The glass had been burst outward, there were smears and splatters of blood in every direction leading out from it, and the inside was covered in dulled and dried multicolored dough that spilled out along the trail of destruction.

She gave him a moment, waiting in case he wanted to talk. Instead-

“Ah. Mother, is it?”

The voice booming from all directions made them jump as the security doors swung closed behind them with a deep thud, runner lights suddenly activating overhead in front of each enclosure illuminating them in a pale haunting glow. Including one placing Doey in the spotlight before his own cell.

“That certainly narrows things down. Assuming you’re not some sorry sop who’s so desperate for validation you’ll take in anything willing to bestow you the title. Lets see now... One’s is dead and the other’s couldn’t have been paid enough to see her little cast off again-”

Doey was frozen, stuck somewhere between fear and fury.

“- so that leaves… Well, Mrs. Susan Ayers, what an honor. I’d almost forgot you didn’t actually die during your last little visit.”

“Funny, that makes two of us.” Susan was watching every corner, bat in hand and ready for whatever he threw at them, and inching as subtly as she could toward Doey. “Playtime reported you dead ages ago, rather unimpressive obituary to be honest.”

It was satisfying to hear the tiniest hitch of annoyance in his voice.

“I will admit you do surprise me Mrs. Ayers, when you first came through here I thought you so... uninteresting I almost didn’t bother to coax one one six three onto your trail. But you’ve proven to, if nothing else, be mildly entertaining. I suppose I can spare a bit of my time and attention. But only for a moment.”

Something clicked and clunked above them in the dark and a barrier slammed down. Bisecting the room as mother and son rushed to reach each other too late.

There had to be a control panel, wires, anything to get him out! From the other side something much larger than Doey was pounding on the barrier, trying and failing to do the same.

“He’s not the one you should be concerned about Mrs. Ayers. Oh no, he knows the way out of there easily enough. No-”

Something shifted in one of the broken glassed enclosures, something chittered, something on the ceiling she hadn’t thought to look for.

“-It’s you that should be running.”

A flash of white and pink in the air, slamming into the metal floor just outside it’s holding cell. It was larger than her, hunched and slowly raising from where it had landed to reveal it’s full wingspan. It had been a long while since her comic book days but it reminded her more of Manbat than it did a cuddly children's toy.

“Do be sure to make it interesting, wont you?”

Rabie Baby shrieked and the sound was like a spike to her skull.

Susan dropped as it launched forward suddenly, sharp clawed plushie feet barely missing their mark as she dove for the stairwell, vaulting the rail and hearing the hard WHAM of the bigger body bat slamming into the stairwell behind her, bouncing off instead of bothering to make the turn while in flight.

It was a different kind of mess below. Less the chaos of carnage and violence and instead that of mismanagement.

Research equipment and storage structures shoved about haphazardly.

Well at least this area was better lit.

She took advantage of the clamor, dropping down and using the supplies as cover to maybe get a bit of space. There wasn’t a point in taking it head on, her bat wasn’t much good for bigger bodies other than defense. The reason she used it was mainly because it got the point across to the smaller toys without actually killing them. No, she needed to lose them, and fast.

Rabie Baby chittered as it landed on a tall storage cart and took the space in. Another shriek almost causing Susan to fumble and give her location away as the sound pierced through her brain.

Pipes rattled on the other side of the room violently, drawing the bat’s attention and she took the distraction to move.

---

She was almost back to the same space the lobby stood one floor above, Rabie still searching through equipment she’d already moved past.

For a long moment everything was silent, and it scares her more than the noise had.

A gust of air is all the warning Susan had to turn and raise the metal bat, jamming it into the nightmare critters mouth as it glides down onto her and throws her on her back.

Sharp fangs glistened from that empty, too wide smile as it’s clawed wings scramble for purchase. With no small amount of effort she managed to get her legs up under the thing and plant a firm kick squarely into it’s chest. There was the distinct feeling of tearing stitches but no time to worry about that now.

Bring the bat around, a strike connecting, hope it unbalanced them enough to run. But which way?

“Here!”

The familiar voice, muffled and distorted overhead, came so unexpectedly she very nearly tripped.

The pipes! He’d gotten out through the pipes! But there was no exit here for him, only navigating by sound and trying to be some help from his confines. If she wasn’t running for her life she wasn’t sure if she would laugh or cry at the revelation.

Another ear splitting shriek and this time Susan did trip, instinctively throwing her hands up to cover her ears as she tumbled through the door leaving a smear of blood in her wake.

“Head right!”

The west block had been to the left when they’d come in, going back out it would of course be to the right. She just had to avoid ending up in the North West block instead.

Now she was getting back to the utility passages, fewer places to hide but more corners to give some space. She could hear claws scrambling on concrete behind her as the thing climb across the wall.

“Crack in the wall!”

She hoped he could hear her as she scrambled through, pack catching and forcing her to twist and tug to get out but it would help her get past the North West block and closer to where she needed.

Stairs up, sharp turn, up again, catwalk across. Now they were getting into the mechanisms that ran the place, huge pistons and gears and, of course, hand shaped movers to shift the individual containment cells into place after they were lifted from trains below.

Susan panted, out of breath, bloodied leg burning, and no idea where to go next. She needed to find somewhere to go before.

SLAM

It struck her from the side, sending her flying down the catwalk and almost off, legs dangling as she clung to the metal floor. Rabie Baby approached on all fours, clicking and chittering to itself as it looked her over, slowly raising onto it’s legs.

“Don’t you -nf- dare.”

A slow, curious tilt of the head, considering her for a moment as she struggled to not slip any farther, before that static smile somehow managed to communicate a malicious glee as it brought a claw up and stamped onto her arm, her bad arm.

Susan screamed, vision whiting out from the pain that exploded through her and she could almost feel the poorly healed over fissure in her bones threaten to part and shatter. Suddenly she was falling, Rabie Baby watching her decent before almost casually spreading it’s wings to glide after her.

#wasthatafanfic #poppy playtime #doey the doughman #susan ayers #love him till the day that you die

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lemon-natalia · 11 months ago

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Nona the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 16

and there’s another new chapter image, this time some kind of building with a turret. could maybe be the mysterious tower being mentioned in the message?

i’m glad Angel is at least trying to protect the kids in the school from getting involved or hurt, even if she can’t protect them from everything going on as a whole

also i have such a bad feeling about how this whole broadcast is going to go, especially with how high tensions have been, the RB’s causing even more violence and fear. between this and Camilla not coming to pick Nona up at all, i'm also very concerned for her

is it gonna be John himself giving this broadcast i wonder. very curious as to how Nona would react to seeing him, or if she would recognise him at all

like most of these kids, my favourite animal is also Noodle

and very concerned for Nona and Hot Sauce planning to go to this broadcast, it really doesn’t seem like its gonna end well

more speculation about the mysterious Angel, who is definitely some form of important figure given she’s being dropped off and has security, that could also mean she’s in some form of custody/under watch like Pyrrha, Cam and Nona are by BoE. and if she’s so important, why is she teaching at a school?

‘Who had taught her that [...] This isn’t the Hokey Pokey’ okayy some very interesting stuff going on here. on one hand the whole thing about going all in seems very like Gideon and Gideon’s tone of voice … but the whole Hokey Pokey thing also sounds kinda like John to me, if Nona is Alecto or somehow connected to her, then that could be something John said in the past?

‘she aged fifteen years, no longer a child among that throng of people’ everything about Hot Sauce just breaks my heart honestly

okay so the Houses are trying to get the planet to sign some kind of contract. but it being reliant on every single person not violating the conditions is hardly fair or realistic, which may very well be the point

ok who on earth is this person. their really pale skin made me think Ianthe, but they have brown hair, and the eyes, blue with brown bits are very reminiscent of Lyctors??

IANTHE NABERIUS??? what the fuck is going on genuinely

‘Her Most Serene Highness, Crown Prince Kiriona Gaia, heir to the First House, the Emperor’s only daughter’ !!!!!! WHAT. what the hell. ok so theres a whole lot of revelations here. the girl with skull facepaint that Nona’s been dreaming of is Gideon. Gideon, or at least her body, is out of BoE custody and has been picked up by the Emperor’s forces. also this is such a small thing to note, but she’s wearing the same type of creepy finger bone crown that John does, which is … disturbing

Gideon just sitting there, saying absolutely nothing is not at all like her. given how HtN ended it is very ambiguous if she’s even alive or not. either this is just straight up her dead body in a Cohort uniform or something is very strange with her rn. cmon this does NOT count as Gideon returning 😭😭

awww Nona trying to help Hot Sauce breathe and be there for her like Camilla does for her, and looking out for her the way Hot Sauce does for the other kids, is so sweet

on a not so sweet note, Hot Sauce has very much noticed that Nona cut her hand but is still fine, which is not good at all. i don’t know how much she’s realised, but so far Hot Sauce has been very observant, and i feel like its only a matter of time before she figures out there’s something necromantic up with Nona

speaking of Nona’s building, why exactly is is referred to as ‘The Building’ and everyone seems to be wary of it? i’m guessing because it’s somehow controlled by/used by BoE to house people they need to keep track of?

the driver’s speech cuts off when saying ‘Aim-’ so its ambiguous if they were going to say something else or continue saying her full name … although honestly the only similar character name i can think of right now is Aiglamene? which i highly doubt. and i am also very curious as to who on earth this mysterious driver is

also Nona has mentioned about her ‘tantrums’ and being on the verge of one a couple of times now in a way that feels very ominous

and oh shit Pyrrha is missing? it could have something to do with whatever sketchy stuff she was doing at the burnings? or possibly the broadcast, its not good that she’s disappeared as soon as House forces show up

#this one is so long it was a hell of a chapter #tlt #the locked tomb #the locked tomb liveblog #nona the ninth #lemon natalia reads the locked tomb

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givehimthemedicine · 2 years ago

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NINA and the magic of VHS ✨📼

I think I just figured out a big part of how NINA works. here's how Brenner is "altering" past events.

something just hit me about this footage that's been staring me in the face this whole time.

before I come to my Big Point, let me establish a few things:

the camera codes don't match

s4 keeps giving us camera POV footage that's labeled per camera. we see codes like CAM 071, CAM 039 and CAM 114.

what's weird about that? nothing, except... here are what the tape labels in the NINA library look like:

alphanumeric codes like CAM B2, CAM A5, CAM TR2. not a single one with just the three-digit numerical codes.

k, put a pin in that.

the NINA library is so spotty

Brenner tells El, "Everything that took place in my lab was captured on video tape. Every success and every failure."

but the dates we saw in that closeup are so sparse. it takes only a dozen tapes to span a month of footage leading up to the massacre (a time period you'd think they'd save every second of):

CAM B6 08-10-79 CAM B5 08-12-79 CAM A2 08-20-79 CAM B5 08-25-79 CAM TR1 09-2-79 CAM RR2 09-4-79 CAM C6 09-6-79 CAM RR1 09-6-79 CAM C4 09-7-79 CAM B5 09-7-79 CAM TR2 09-8-79

no idea what a lot of these camera codes denote, but it's not too hard to guess RR means Rainbow Room.

I can tell you off the top of my head that there are four cameras in the Rainbow Room. and one in each corner of the training rooms, at least one apiece in test rooms, bedrooms, hallways. at least one apiece in observation chambers of test rooms - otherwise the One banishment footage wouldn't exist (is that a bit odd now that I think of it?).

and that's not including the tripod cameras with which are recorded close up footage like plinko and the cat.

so, why so few dates and camera angles?

@lilly-flowerr once kindly calculated an estimate about how many VHS tapes would be produced from 100+ cameras' worth of continuous footage for the duration of the HNL program and the result was in the ballpark of several million.

tbf, Brenner never claimed this was all the footage. so I figured, likely, this library actually just houses a pared-down selection of footage relevant to the massacre.

but the problem with that idea is... consider how when we see El get NINA'd with RR footage: she's being shown four views of the room at once. that's already impossible, based on the selection we see available in the library. there aren't even four RR camera views represented on that shelf, let alone all from the same day.

pin that too.

live feeds vs playback

I thought hey, if those camera POVs had dates and everything on them, why isn't that stuff on El's NINA videos? are they hiding that data to facilitate screwing with her?!??

which, yeah. but here's the One banishment footage that Brenner watches alone. no dates on that either:

so I went to look for other times we've seen lab playback to see if there are ever dates.

Hopper checking out the pipe in season 1; Owens reviewing Will's checkup:

that's actually a plot point on the Hopper one because he decided the lab was lying to him about which night that footage was of - if the tapes showed dates onscreen, that wouldn't have been an issue.

so then I thought, ok, if that data doesn't appear on playback, it must only display on monitors showing live feeds, and that stuff doesn't actually get recorded onto it. right?

well here are some live lab feeds: El and the cat; detained Nancy and Jonathan; scientists watching Will's checkup; Owens directing Bob to safety from demodogs. no dates anywhere.

so... if there's no data on live feeds or on playback.... where ARE those dates on the NINA cameras being displayed? there's no internal viewer on those security cameras, like looking through a camcorder viewfinder, so it's not like it's merely "the camera's view" unseen by any actual entity.

so like... who's seeing that? how are we seeing that?

pin that too. I promise we're getting close.

OSD (on screen display)

quick bit of context for those who didn't grow up with VHS.

in VHS days, your video camera (if you had it configured to do so) would put the date onto your home movies. it wasn't a separate layer you could turn on/off after the fact, like DVD subtitles. if that feature was turned on while you were filming, that date was forever fused onto the footage itself. any time you ever played that tape back, you would see that date. there's no way to get rid of it.

osd however - PLAY PAUSE FFW and all that - those labels aren't fused onto the actual footage. they appear momentarily only as you navigate the tape with your VCR. DVD players do the same thing, you're probably familiar.

you can watch the osd labels appear/disappear as Joyce investigates Will's Halloween tape, while the date stays put.

they give us the live camera view of Bob (which has just the date) vs Joyce playing it back on her VCR later (which has the date and also osd). why the timestamps are different is a whoooooole other post.

so now that we're all on the same page about how dates vs. osd works on VCRs,

I'll bring you to the only time I DID find dates on lab playback:

4x6 when Brenner pops this tape in his VCR.

"who's even seeing those ?" Brenner. yeah, that's not my stunning realization. but look what we see up in the top left corner: osd. PLAY.

so here finally is my point: if PLAY appears on the screen as a result of Brenner hitting play on his VCR....

let me direct your attention to the upper left corner of that other footage:

those camera POV shots all say 🔴REC.

those aren't recordings.

they ARE recordING.

Brenner is taping these past events, live, during NINA.

"how do you explain Little El showing up in some of the camera povs? brainwash her all you want, but she would show up big on a tape being recorded in 1986."

indeed! which is why I'm not going so far as to claim Brenner is recording The Actual Past. what I do believe is that he's recording El's memories of the past, in which she is Little El.

"and how are you gonna say Brenner is able to record El's memories right out of her head with a VCR? yes this is fiction, but VHS technology isn't. c'mon."

it's not actually that far fetched! El canonically has a very similar ability - it's been swept under the rug in comparison to the glamor of telekinesis, not used since season 1, but it's well established:

she not only can hear people remotely, but also relay what only she is hearing via radio/intercom to where others can then hear it.

Brenner was filming this test on a tripod camera, which wouldn't have been affected by the cut in power that happened when El started relaying. so he walked away from this moment with a recording of something only El was able to hear.

which is exactly how NINA works. add video technology, and there ya go. if it didn't already exist in 1983, this scene was Brenner discovering the concept.

onward:

Brenner's tapes aren't the tapes El is being shown.

watch this in 4x7: he inserts this tape, hits play, and then we cut to El in NINA, watching all the monitors flash to life with footage of herself in the infirmary for her bullying concussion.

the implication from the editing is that this particular VHS yields that particular footage for El to watch, but that's a false assumption they want us to make.

first, playing one VHS doesn't result in several screens with different footage rolling all at once. one VHS only holds one camera feed. all NINA's monitors can't be fed by one VCR.

second, "Infirmary" would most likely be abbreviated "I" or "IR". the tape he played said CAM TR2, which could stand for either Training Room or Test Room. El experiences 9/8/79 "memories" of both, so I'm not sure which this would be. regardless, it's not Infirmary.

third, as we've covered before, all the lab footage El is shown inside NINA is devoid of dates and cam codes. that's not characteristic of the tape we saw Brenner play in his VCR.

fourth, as we also covered before, not all the camera angles El's seeing are even represented on that shelf of massacre-month tapes.

so Brenner may indeed have captured everything in his lab on video tape, but the VHS library we and El are shown while he says that? pretty sure that's NOT what these tapes are.

it's implied that he's popping tapes into his VCR at the same time El's off in her memories. but if it's not for the purpose of showing them to her.... what is he doing with his?

"but nat, his finger hit play, not record."

well they're not gonna SHOW us him hitting record or we'd guess!

he's hitting play to get the tape queued up to the right spot to record on, which you gotta do with a VHS or else you could overwrite something important that's already on there.

if Brenner is recording whatever El is seeing, wouldn't that help explain:

the varying appearance of El as both big and little within the camera povs. at this moment, El is big because she's aware she's her current self (she's fully conversing with Brenner). this is definitely not really past footage, because it's not like Little El stood up on a chair and yelled into a camera in 1979. after this point though, she accepts what's going on and submits to the "memories" in which she is little, so she's seeing herself as little, so from then on she appears as Little El on the fresh tapes.

the different camera labeling within NINA and its library of tapes - they need to differentiate between old/real/fake/new camera views.

the sparsity of the VHS library - maybe only key moments need to be overwritten

this camera-yelling moment actually is a potential match for one of the tapes on the shelf. it's Sept 4, 1979, and it's in the Rainbow Room. CAM 071 09/04/79 could be the overwriting of CAM RR2 09-4-79. on the other hand, if that were true I'd expect to also see 09-4-79 training room and hallway footage to match those other povs we saw, and I don't, so idk.

the light circle game is the only NINA footage we ever get to see both live camera POV and playback of (although it's not actually the same moment, the dates and cams are different). the numeric camera code on both of these is part of my support for the numeric camera codes representing new footage.

regarding the date and cam code being different on those two bits of nearly identical footage…. what if I... plugged this into Multiplayer NINA theory real quick and said that maybe CAM 126 is fake-old footage that's been more recently rerecorded in someone else's NINA? that maybe that's what's on all of Brenner's tapes before he records El's new stuff onto them?

so here's my current thinking of how NINA works:

decide how you wish El remembered an event and compile cherrypicked real footage and/or staged footage supporting your version of events.

manipulate and gaslight El so that she doubts the veracity of her own memories.

drug her and throw her in a sensory deprivation tank where your selected footage clockwork-oranges her into "fully re-experiencing" your version of events.

presto! the most powerful person in the world now believes your version of events is true because she genuinely remembers it.

by means of El's electronic relay abilities (induced with a buttload of drugs), these false memories that only El is seeing, inside her mind, are displayed for all to see on monitor in NINA's control room.

pop a plain old tape into a plain old VCR and hit record, capturing whatever's on the monitor.

presto! now you have irrefutable original video footage of a past event that never happened.

now you can show that proof to someone else - the government, the media.... or perhaps more importantly another NINA subject, as an ingredient in your tampering with their memories.

so. I can't prove the ol' MindFucker4000 is also a time machine, not in this post, but I do still feel like there's time stuff involved as well. because I can't think of a way right now to claim that recording someone's manipulated memory of the past actually changes that past, meddles with timelines, etc.

can you? I don't have all the nuts and bolts ironed out, but I welcome your thoughts while mine gel!

#long but I promise this is worth reading #the Henward / Victor memory tampering implications.#I know it sounds crazy it IS crazy.wav #analysis #givehimthemedicine analysis #mine #this post aged me #lab stuff #nina stuff

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