#vomiting tw

[userfrieren]

[liketolaugh-writes]

"I was terrified at first, but those guys were so dumb," Danny complained, pressing his hands over his eyes in pure exasperation. Jack and Maddie exchanged a bemused look. "The only one that caught me was Dad, and that was on purpose."

"Wh- I knew I didn't press that button!" Jack yelled, and then almost immediately went cold, remembering exactly what he'd been so excited for. That had been early in Phantom's appearance, their plans hadn't gotten quite so graphic, but he was still going to- they would have- He felt sick. "Jiminy Christmas, Danny, why would you do that?"

Danny ducked his head. Kid looked embarrassed by all the wrong things, seriously. "You didn't have the tech to keep me then," he muttered, sinking down as he apparently realized, three years late, exactly what kind of danger he'd danced with. His voice got even quieter. "And... you were having a really bad day."

Jack swallowed, his saliva thickening with the threat of vomit. "'Xcuse me, I'm going to..." He didn't have an excuse. He shoved himself away from the table and stumbled to his feet, and felt Danny's worried eyes on his back as he hurried toward the kitchen. He didn't throw up, but he braced himself on the kitchen sink and sobbed, as quietly as he could. But he'd never been good at that. He mentally pleaded for Maddie to stay with Danny anyway, make sure he didn't feel bad about this. Didn't feel bad about trying to cheer Jack up by- by-

Jack leaned down and choked.

=====

Someone asked me what other horrifying realizations Jack and Maddie had left to come to in 'The Life and Death of Danny Phantom.'

...Yeah.

[sasakisniko]

"You have to experience Hell before you can see what's really here."

@deadboyween Day 10: Hell

[littleholmes]

Poor Kin and Yuta—that’s gotta be an incredibly intense punch when two of the strongest students, who Gojo said were positioned to potentially match up and outclass him one day, are saying that a punch from Gojo hurt so bad they got sick

[guess568]

Finally vomited properly

Went and had a nice breakfast with my mates and then chugged some Pepsi, coke and fizzy water. That didn’t make me puke so fingers had to be used to bring it all up. It tasted very sweet as I had just chugged a large Diet Coke from McDonald’s. There’s some vegetables in there from my lunch and some bacon in there as well and bits of vegetable samosa. It felt so good to go from being nauseous and overfull to feeling all the chunks and liquid rushing up my throat. I even managed to vomit on my phone at one point. I managed to get a video of me throwing up so let me know if you guys want to see it. Also let me know what I should eat before I bring it all back up next time.

[anti-hero-au]

Page 54

{Previous} {Next}

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 14: “Feed me poison, fill me til I drown”

Read it on Ao3

- Time & the Chain

- Summary: Time grows ill by no ordinary sickness

CW for poisoning and all the horrifying symptoms that come with it (including vomiting and severe shortness of breath) and kidnapping

———————————-

The inn has become outrageously loud.

Time isn’t certain when it went from the usual hubbub of gathered humanity to an overwhelming cacophony of noise. All he knows is that he needs to get away from it. Now. Before he gives in to the urge to curl up on the floor in fetal position.

Strange. He can’t recall the last time he yearned to do that.

It has been years, to be certain. Years since a small child hid in a Castle Town alleyway because it had all, very suddenly, grown to be too much.

Time drags in a breath that doesn’t fully fill his lungs and pushes himself to his feet. If he steels himself, perhaps, he can look purposeful rather than panicked.

“What’s up, old man?”

Legend is staring at him from where he sits on a bench, wedged between Wild and Hyrule. He raises an eyebrow.

“You heading to bed already?”

Time tries to smile. It comes out feeling more like a grimace.

When had it grown so cold in here?

It feels as though the winds of Snowhead have swept in through the swinging double doors. He shivers slightly and the small movement makes the pounding in his head a hundred times worse.

“I’m actually headed outside,” he says, his own voice sounding strangely far away. “I just need a bit of air.”

They’re all watching him now, varying levels of concern on their faces.

“Are you alright?” Sky asks.

Time nods. “Don’t worry about me. It’s just a bit stifling in here is all. I’ll be back in soon.”

Most of them still look worried, but he can hardly afford to stand here, assuring them of his good health. The room is closing in now and blurring slightly at the edges. If he doesn’t get out soon…

With a desperate sort of abruptness, Time turns on his heel and heads for the door.

The main streets of Castle Town are still busy. The inn is relatively out of the way, though, situated snuggly in the back of the town. Few people come down here and Time is glad of it. With a sigh of relief he leans back against the wall.

…only for his legs to give way seconds later.

The ground tips beneath his feet, his stomach lurches, and suddenly he finds himself on his hands and knees. He stares down at the cold cobblestone, trying vainly to comprehend what has just happened. He had been fine a half an hour ago — he had been fine mere seconds ago, save of course, for the sudden onset of a migraine and the dizziness and cold and the way the room had surged and shrieked like a monster let loose…but those had been…

Time’s eye widens slightly. A series of shives rage through him, sudden and unbidden and terrible. They make his teeth chatter so hard he has to grit them together to keep from biting his tongue.

Something is wrong, he realizes, somewhat dazedly. Very wrong. He has suffered enough illnesses, enough injuries to know this one is not normal.

But his head has begun to feel heavy, his thoughts as sluggish and thick as the fog of the Lost Woods. And though he grasps for it, the answer he seeks hovers just out of reach.

Then, it flees entirely, replaced instead by sheer panic.

He can’t breathe.

He tries, fighting to draw precious air through airways that suddenly feel too tight. But he only manages a half-breath that leaves him feeling dizzy. Desperately, he inhales once more.

But his lungs don’t expand to welcome the air he craves. Instead, the pounding in his head intensifies. And in the next moment, his stomach rebels violently. He pitches forward and vomits.

There’s blood in it, he notes, blearily. That’s more than a little worrying.

Or it would be if he could think past the immediate conglomeration of dizziness and pain and a hazy sort of directionless fear.

A shudder rages through him. His body decides it no longer has the strength to hold itself up. He collapses sideways and his surroundings tip with him, streetlights smearing golden light across a navy sky, buildings elongating unnaturally.

For a terrible moment, he is certain that he’s falling. And maybe he’ll keep falling, down, down, down into endless darkness and he’ll be trapped again, imprisoned in a world that won’t remember him, a world destined to be destroyed.

But then his shoulder connects painfully with something hard and he realizes he is lying on the cobblestones.

Still fighting to breathe. And now to swallow. It feels as though his entire throat is closing itself off. Soon he won’t have any air at all.

This has all escalated rather quickly, he thinks with an absurd, giddy sort of mirth. And to think all he had wanted was fresh air. Unfortunately, for him there is none to be had.

Another round of shivers come, tearing his aching body apart, stealing what little breath he still has. It drives away the odd hilarity, brings back the panic of before.

He needs to get up. He needs to find help. But even speaking seems an insurmountable challenge.

Time squeezes his eye shut. His fingernails are sharp against his palm, but the pain grounds him, keeps him awake. And somehow, he knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that he has to stay awake.

Nausea roils in him again. He gags, tasting blood and the remnants of dinner. Dimly, he wonders how long ago it was when he sat with the other heroes, listening to them laugh and tell stories over bowls of warm stew. It feels like an eternity has passed since then. But he doubts that that is true.

Either way, the thought of food makes his stomach protest. There is nothing left in it now to expel. Yet his body tries anyway, violently. Clearly, it wants whatever is inside of him, out.

Poison.

The realization finally breaks through. But it’s too late to entertain the fresh wave of panic. He is fading now, the taste of blood pungent on his tongue, stones cold against his skin. Even if he had the strength to do more than lie here and attempt to breathe, it wouldn't do him any good. He doesn’t know how to deal with poison. He’s never had to learn.

Footsteps sound now. He registers them, distantly, through a fog he can’t find his way out of. Then, voices reach him, muffled by the whirring in his ears.

“Is he dead?”

“No, he’s still breathing. I can hear his wheezing from here. Pathetic.”

“Besides, we never wanted him completely dead, remember? Just very, very close. Now, come on. You know what to do.”

Hands grasp his arms and roughly haul him up. Ropes snake around his wrists and pull tight. A cloth finds its way into his mouth. And all the while his every instinct screams at him to run, to struggle, to fight. But his limbs are leaden, unable to even keep him upright. He slumps heavily in his captor’s grasp.

“He won’t last much longer without the antidote.”

“Well, we don’t have much longer before the others worry and come to check on him. We go now. He’ll last until we get where we need to be.”

They begin to drag him. His feet are uncooperative, unable to even catch on the stones as they move forward. Darkness dances tantalizingly before him. He tries and fails to take another breath.

“It’s better this way,” he hears them say faintly, in the moments before he plunges into oblivion, “to keep him in this state. The Hero of Termina…he isn’t one you should underestimate.”

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

The Job (Part 2)

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 2. Exhaustion, 8. Panic Attack, 18. Vomiting, 21. Shock, Alt 6. Crying to Sleep Fandom: Peaky Blinders, Tommy Shelby, f!reader, prostitute!reader Summary: After being forced to witness the bloodbath at the stables, you are left shaken to the core. So when Tommy comes to visit you a few days later, you demand answers leading to a revolution you never expected. Word Count: 4266 TW: Steamy Situations/Soft Smut, Non-Sexual Nudity, Shock, Trauma, Vomiting, Tears, Mentions of Prostitution, Smoking, Language Notes: A HUGE thanks to @loverhymeswith who not only sent me the ask that inspired this fic and helped me perfect this part, but also for getting me into Peaky Blinders in the first place! Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

Masterlist (coming soon)

Part 1, Part 2

As you hurried from the stable and the nightmare within, you saw Arthur, John, and a handful of others you recognized as Peaky Blinders pulling up out front. No one looked at you directly as they climbed out of their cars—Arthur the only one to even acknowledge you with a small nod—before silently heading into the stables and drawing their pistols. You increased your pace but you were still within earshot when the cacophony of gunfire sounded behind you. Even though it was too late, you pressed your hands over your ears as you fled down the street, tears blurring your vision as you went. 

Yet no matter how quickly you ran nor how much distance you put between yourself and the bloody massacre you had just escaped from, you felt as if you were still there. Trembling behind the hay bales as the world exploded in blood around you. It was the stuff of nightmares you had heard about in whispers behind closed doors, but the reality of experiencing it first-hand was far more horrifying than you could ever have imagined.

After what seemed like an eternity, you finally stumbled up the front steps of your lodging. Your hands were trembling so badly that it took you three tries to finally get the key in the lock to open the door and, once inside, you rushed quickly to your room. 

Despite it being the middle of summer, you were shivering uncontrollably and there was a chill deep in your bones. After much trouble, you got a fire started in your fireplace and you huddled next to it as closely as you could stand. And yet, the chill persisted. 

Looking down, you saw that small flecks of blood had landed on your new dress and you immediately ripped it off and threw it into the fire. Even if it could have been cleaned, the events of the night had stained the dress in ways that could never be washed off. You would never be able to forget what you witnessed no matter how hard you tried—you didn’t need a reminder of it hanging in your wardrobe as well. 

Standing before the fireplace in only your undergarments, you watched as the once beautiful gown blackened and burned, slowly falling apart as it turned to ash. You wished there was a way to rid yourself of your memories as easily as you had the dress. The sounds of the screams, the metallic bite of blood in the air, the way Tommy’s blue eyes peered at you from a face stained red. All building up to the thunderous booms of gunfire as you fled the stable.

And it was all your fault. 

You had led those men to their deaths. Even if Tommy hadn’t explicitly told you what was to happen once you lured them to the stable, you should have realized what he planned to do. You knew his reputation for dealing with threats to his empire and yet, you had agreed to do what he wished with only the slightest of hesitations. If not for you, those men would be home with their wives or children at the moment instead of lying in a heap in an empty stable waiting for a handful of Peaky Blinders to come to dispose of their bodies.

That thought was the final straw. You dropped to your knees as you emptied the contents of your stomach across your floor. Over and over you retched, even past the point of having anything left in your stomach to expel. Every time you thought the nausea had settled, the memory of the blood-soaked stable would flash in your mind and you would gag once more.

Finally, once your body physically could not take anymore, you rolled over and curled up next to the fire. With tears streaming down your face and a weak whimpering in your burning throat, you slipped into unconsciousness only to find the horrors of the night were waiting to torment you there as well.

The next few days were some of the worst of your life. At first, you tried to push what had happened to the back of your mind and move on as you attempted to continue about your days as normal. However, that was much easier said than done. The feeling of nausea failed to leave you and all you could manage to hold down was broth or a little bread. 

After the initial horror of the experience settled a little in your mind, you realized it wasn’t even the fact that all those men died that was really bothering you. Yes, the taking of any life was a tragedy but they were gang members who voluntarily chose this life. They knew the dangers involved with it and the potential consequences. And it wasn’t as if you weren’t used to witnessing violence after spending your entire life in Birmingham. It was just a way of life here.

No. What was really making you sick to your stomach was Tommy and how he had involved you in his feud. You were used to him using your body on a weekly basis—you gladly offered it up—but this? This was something completely different.  

He had made you an unwilling, unknowing accomplice to his dastardly deed. Then he had forced you to stand there and witness every last horrifying second of it. The image of his pale blue eyes boring into you from a crimson-drenched face, his outstretched finger pinning you in place from across the room, was burned into your soul. 

Why had he forced you to stay? You had done everything he had asked of you, so why did he want to punish you so? Why did he feel the need to curse you with these images that would haunt you for the rest of your life?

The dread in your chest only grew stronger with each passing day as Tommy’s scheduled visit approached. Wednesday simultaneously came too quickly and seemed to take an eternity to arrive. 

Usually just before he was set to appear, you would put on your finest dressing gown and style your hair just the way you knew he preferred. Then you would wait by the entrance with a cigarette and a glass of whiskey ready for him. However, this time when Thomas Shelby walked through your door, you were seated on the edge of your bed in a simple shift dress that laced up the front. As he entered, your shoulders folded in on themselves as you shrank slightly away from him. Hesitantly, you glanced over at him out of the corner of your eyes. 

If he noticed anything was different, Tommy did not address it. He simply strolled over to the table, took off his coat, and began unbuckling his belt as he asked, “Shall we get to it then?”

You made no move to stand or begin removing your clothes. Instead, you wrapped your arms across your chest, and with a slight quiver in your voice, you whispered, “H-how can you just walk in here as if nothing happened? As if this were just any other Wednesday and nothing has changed?"

He paused as he pursed his lips and gave a slight shrug. "Nothing has changed. I'm here for your services just as I am every week."

"Tommy, I watched you murder an entire room full of men right before my eyes. And I-I helped you do it. I mean, I know I agreed to help you but you never told me I would be leading them to you like lambs to the slaughter.”

His icy blue eyes took on an extra chill as he took a few steps towards you. With a slight bite to his words, he said, “You are neither foolish nor naive. You knew what would happen once you got to the stable.”

“I thought you would talk to them! Give them a warning, maybe send a message! Yes, I knew violence would probably be involved but I didn’t expect you to massacre every single one of them!”

A cunning, almost bordering on cruel, smile spread across his face. “Oh, but I was sending a message. Now anyone else out there who thinks they can fuck with the Peaky Blinders will see what will happen if they come for us.”

“But why did you have to involve me? What did I do to displease you to the point you would—” Tommy’s face dropped as the first tears spilled from your eyes and you took a wet, shaky breath, looking to the ceiling as you blinked rapidly and tried to maintain your composure. You had to know. This question had been haunting you almost as much as what you had witnessed. “I haven't been able to eat or sleep since that night. I feel as if I’m going mad. Every time I close my eyes all I can see is blood and I hear the howls of pain as those men died. Tommy, I have to know why you made me stay. What was the point? I tried to leave but you….Why did you make me witness that?”

For a moment, the room was still as the suffocating silence filled the room. Why wasn’t he answering your question? Maybe he didn’t have an answer. Maybe it had been a spur-of-the-moment decision in the heat of battle. Maybe to him, it meant nothing at al—

“You had to stay because I needed you to see the man I truly am.” 

Your eyes snapped to his face as you looked at him directly for the first time, your brow furrowed in astonishment. “W-what?”

Reaching into his pocket, Tommy pulled out a cigarette. However, unlike usual, he didn’t light it. He just rolled it between his fingers thoughtfully. Then he tapped the end on the table before looking back at you. “The last time I was here you spoke of the Peaky Blinders as if I was not part of them. As if I was not the one in charge of them. Just because I don’t talk about that business with you does not mean it isn’t my life. That I am not as guilty if not more of their ‘transgressions’ as you put it. And I needed to remind you of that.”

“I have never had any misconceptions of who you are or what you do. Even before the first time you came to me, I knew the name Thomas Shelby and I knew the stories. And though the man I have come to know here in this room is far different from what I expected from those stories, they were never far from my mind.”

“But knowing and seeing are two very different things, eh?” Tommy asked. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you are keeping your distance? The way you are too afraid to even look at me directly?”

“I’m not afraid of you, Tommy.”

“Is that right?” He placed his cigarette down on the table and began slowly strolling over to the bed. “Then if it isn’t fear, what is it? Disgust? Loathing? What is it that you see when you look at me now?” He stopped as he reached the foot of the bed. 

Shaking your head, you said, “Tommy, please—”

He stepped closer until he was less than an arm's length in front of you. You dropped your eyes to the floor as he towered over you. 

“Look at me.” When you continued to avoid his gaze, he firmly grabbed your chin between his fingers and forced your head up so you had no choice but to look into his startling blue eyes. “Look at me! And tell me what you see.” You opened your mouth to speak, but he added, “The truth.”

Trembling, you gazed into his eyes and whispered, “I… I see a man capable of unspeakable horrors. One who has washed in the blood of other men, and will readily do so again.”

Tommy stared back at you without the slightest reaction to your words. Then he nodded softly and released your chin. You slid closer to the head of the bed and wrapped your arms around yourself as he turned. Silently, he walked across the room, grabbed his coat, and began to put it on. 

However, you weren’t ready for him to leave. Maybe it was his explanation and reasoning as to his actions or maybe it was the idea that if you let him walk out that door you may never see him again, but something deep inside you had shifted as you answered his question. What you had said was your honest answer, but the truth was so much more complicated than that. And you couldn’t let him leave without hearing the rest of your response.

Taking a deep breath, you stood off the bed, walked over to him, and placed your hand on his forearm. He paused, one brow raised as he waited for you to explain your action.

Wetting your lips, you softly said, “But I also see a man who only does these things for the sake of his family and their interests.” Tommy’s face remained emotionless, but you felt some of the tension ease out of him under your touch so you continued. 

“I don’t think I can ever support your actions that night and it still makes me sick that you made me a part of it and then forced me to watch. You should have at least warned me or let me leave because I didn’t need the lesson you tried to teach me. I hate what you did, but I understand why it was necessary. And as much as I’m loath to admit it…. There is a sort of honor in it. Those men posed a threat to the lives of every member of the Peaky Blinders as well as their loved ones. And you shed their blood so the blood of your people wouldn’t be.” 

Your hand slowly trailed up his arm and across his chest until it rested just over his heart. Feeling it drumming steadily against your palm, you softly added, “The Peaky Blinders are lucky to have someone like you watching out for them.”

As usual, Tommy maintained his mask of indifference, but not even he could control his heart. You felt it jump underneath your hand as the drumming began to pick up its tempo. He blinked, long and slow, before gazing at you once more and it seemed as if some of the ice in his eyes had melted ever so slightly. 

He placed his palm over top of where your hand still lay on his chest. “I hope you know that you are one of the people under my protection. I swore I would never let any harm befall you, even that by my own hand.” His other hand reached up to cup your face, his thumb gently tracing the dark bags that had formed this past week under your eyes. “And yet it seems that is exactly what I did. I thought by making you see me for who I really am I would be protecting you. But I was so blinded by that thought I did not see the hurt I would cause instead. I am truly sorry.”

You were utterly speechless. As long as you had known him, you had never once heard Tommy admit fault or apologize for any of his actions. He only ever brushed off these incidents and changed the subject, but for him to tell you he was sorry? He must honestly regret his poor decision.

“I-I forgive you,” you whispered, your eyes fluttering as his thumb continued to caress your face. “Just don’t ever put me in a situation like that again. Please.”

“I promise.” His hand slid down your cheek slightly until his fingers brushed against your lips. “Shall we seal it with a kiss?”

Faintly, you nodded, your head spinning with anticipation for what was to come. Tommy bent over until his lips lightly grazed yours, the feeling no more than a whisper. For a moment, your heart dropped in disappointment and you figured you had misread the situation. However, when Tommy’s hand wrapped around the back of your neck and he pulled you into him, the kiss became something else entirely. 

You sometimes kissed Tommy during your weekly appointments but even then, at the peak of pleasure, it never felt like this. Now, there was a heat, an urgency, a need behind his lips that made your knees grow weak. It was something you had never experienced with any man, let alone Tommy.  But the fact that it was him kissing you like this made everything more intense and overwhelming in the best way. You never wanted it to stop.

As you began kissing him back with the same intensity, Tommy’s hands came to rest on your hips and he guided you over to the table. Dropping into one of the chairs, he pulled you onto his lap, your legs spread on either side of his waist. You could feel him already hardening in his slacks and you wrapped your legs around his hips to draw yourself in even closer. 

He buried his face in your hair, his long eyelashes fluttering against the edge of your face for a moment until he turned his head. Slowly, his lips slipped across your jaw, breathing ghostlike kisses in their wake as his mouth traveled along the curve of your throat. When he reached your shoulder, he bit down lightly. This drew a soft gasp of pleasure from your lips and you felt him buck against you in response. 

Yet before his mouth could dip any lower, you tilted his chin so you could see his face. 

His usually pale blue eyes had darkened with lust and the hunger you saw there made you ache deep within your core. This was a different side to Tommy, a side that you had never seen before. While your time together was always pleasurable, you were providing him a service and that was always apparent in his actions. But now…it felt about you just as much as about him. It felt like something deeper than just his regular weekly appointment. Yet before you lost yourself completely to him, before you let yourself believe it could be more, you had to know for sure.

Holding your breath, you murmured, “What is this, Tommy? Business or pleasure?”

Brushing his fingers across your cheek, he responds in a low, husky whisper. “For me, it stopped being business long ago.”

A brilliant smile spread across your face as you surged forward to recapture his lips. Kissing you back with the same fervor, he stood, his strong arms supporting you so you remained wrapped around his waist, and carried you over to your bed. Without breaking your kiss, he laid you down and settled above you. 

Your eyes drifted shut and you could feel his nimble fingers begin fiddling with the laces across the front of your dress, even as his tongue slid past your lips. You arched your back to allow him easier access to the ties as the aching between your legs intensified. But after a moment, he froze and then suddenly pulled back. At first, you were worried you did something wrong, but as you opened your eyes, you saw all of his concentration had shifted to the laces still perfectly fastened in place.

As he continued his futile attempt to untie your dress, he cursed softly and muttered, “Damn you woman for wearing this infernal thing."

Leaning forward, you smiled into his neck before teasing, your lips brushing across his skin, “Come now, Tommy. One might think you’d never undressed a woman before.”

He paused, his head tilting until he locked eyes with you. Then, without breaking eye contact, he curled his fingers into the fabric of your bodice and gave a firm pull, causing the dress to rip open down to your waist. You let out a gasp of surprise but Tommy swallowed the sound as his mouth found yours once again.

With your legs still encircling his waist, you pulled him in closer until his hips were flush with yours and you could feel him straining for release against your clothed core. Slowly, you began rolling your hips to rub against him and you were rewarded with a deep rumble deep within his chest. 

“Not so fast, you little minx,” Tommy growled, nipping at your lip. “There’s no rush tonight. You wanted to know what this was between us? Well, I’m going to show you. Over and over and over, until you never again doubt that this is all about pleasure.” A soft shudder of pleasure shivered down your spine at his words and he smiled. “Now, let me watch you take off what’s left of that dress then our night can begin.”

You had serviced Thomas Shelby more times than you could count. But that night became the first time you and Tommy made love….over and over and over and over, just like he promised. 

Remarkably, you slept like a babe that night—the first real sleep you had had since the night in the stable. Even though you hadn’t opened your eyes yet, you could tell you had slept through the rest of the evening and well into the next morning by the warmth of the sun trickling in through your window onto the bed. The sunbeams felt heavenly on your bare skin and you hummed contently as you basked in the glow. 

Stretching to help wake up your sluggish limbs, you opened your eyes and found yourself staring directly into a pair of familiar glacial eyes. 

“Tommy!” You were instantly wide awake as you scrambled out of bed, dragging the bedsheet along with you to wrap around your naked body. “Wha-what are you still doing here? I mean, you don’t stay afterward. You never stay afterward.” You felt your face grow hot as you realized now that you had stolen the sheet, he was lying bare in your bed, fully on display. It took all of your willpower to keep your eyes locked on his face and not let them drift down the muscular planes of his body or linger on the hardness between his legs.

Completely unfazed by your reaction or his naked state, Tommy propped himself up on one elbow. “You said you hadn’t been sleeping this past week yet you looked so peaceful last night I didn’t want to disturb you.”

You blinked several times in quick succession as you tried to process that information. “So you stayed….for me?”

He shot you a coy grin. “Yes, I stayed for you. Though my motives may not have been as selfless as you make it seem.” His expression softened and he opened up his arms inviting you back to bed. “The truth is, I too found myself more at peace with you by my side than I have in a long time.”

You relaxed slightly, the motion causing the sheet to slip down until your breasts were almost completely uncovered. Tommy’s eyes shifted down to them and you had to bite your lip to keep from smiling. Apparently, for once you had more self-control than the great Thomas Shelby. But that feeling of superiority didn’t last long as your nerves once again gripped you as you faced the situation at hand.

“So, if that’s true….What do we do now?” you hesitantly asked as you worried the sheet between your fingers, afraid his answer might have changed now in the bright light of day. “Do we resume our business as usual or has this become something else? Something more?”

“That’s up to you, isn’t it?” Tommy reached over to the small side table where his pack of cigarettes and lighter were waiting and pulled one out. Once it was lit, he took a long drag, held it, and slowly let the smoke stream from his lips. “I told you last night that this has not been business to me for a long time. I’ve respected what you do but if I had my way, you’d be mine and mine alone.”

This time, you didn’t even attempt to mask the smile spreading across your face. In fact, you embraced it until it was shining almost as brightly as the dancing across the room. “And what would you do with me, Thomas Shelby? If I was yours and yours alone?” you teased, leaning forward to show off even more of your exposed breast.

“I’d give you the fucking world.”

All of your playfulness evaporated with your sharp intake of breath. You scanned Tommy’s face for any indication he was joking or teasing you back, but there was none. As you locked eyes with him, all you saw was sincerity. It was truly how he felt. 

Trying to project the same level of honesty back at him, you whispered, “I don’t need the world, Tommy. As long as I have you…that’s all I’ll ever need.”

“Well, you are in luck, love,” he said as he stubbed out his cigarette on the edge of the table. His eyes swiveled back to yours and he added matter-of-factly, “Because you’ve got me.”

You nodded, tears slightly blurring your vision. “And you’ve got me too. For forever. Starting right now.”

You dropped the sheet to the floor, pausing for just a moment to let Tommy take you in. Then you climbed back on the bed and into his waiting arms. 

I am toying with an idea for a Part 3 so let me know if you would be interested!

Tag list: @loverhymeswith, @heart-0n-fire, @that-sarcastic-writer, @eternallyvenus, @writercole, @deppresseddyslexic, @confetti-cakemix, @flamingdisputes, @callsign-phoenix, @slightly-psycho-multifan, @skydisneylover

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

The Job (Part 2)

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 2. Exhaustion, 8. Panic Attack, 18. Vomiting, 21. Shock, Alt 6. Crying to Sleep Fandom: Peaky Blinders, Tommy Shelby, f!reader, prostitute!reader Summary: After being forced to witness the bloodbath at the stables, you are left shaken to the core. So when Tommy comes to visit you a few days later, you demand answers leading to a revolution you never expected. Word Count: 4266 TW: Steamy Situations/Soft Smut, Non-sexual Nudity, Shock, Trauma, Vomiting, Tears, Mentions of Prostitution, Smoking, Language Notes: A HUGE thanks to @loverhymeswith who not only sent me the ask that inspired this fic and helped me perfect this part, but also for getting me into Peaky Blinders in the first place! Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

Masterlist (coming soon)

Part 1, Part 2

As you hurried from the stable and the nightmare within, you saw Arthur, John, and a handful of others you recognized as Peaky Blinders pulling up out front. No one looked at you directly as they climbed out of their cars—Arthur the only one to even acknowledge you with a small nod—before silently heading into the stables and drawing their pistols. You increased your pace but you were still within earshot when the cacophony of gunfire sounded behind you. Even though it was too late, you pressed your hands over your ears as you fled down the street, tears blurring your vision as you went. 

Yet no matter how quickly you ran nor how much distance you put between yourself and the bloody massacre you had just escaped from, you felt as if you were still there. Trembling behind the hay bales as the world exploded in blood around you. It was the stuff of nightmares you had heard about in whispers behind closed doors, but the reality of experiencing it first-hand was far more horrifying than you could ever have imagined.

After what seemed like an eternity, you finally stumbled up the front steps of your lodging. Your hands were trembling so badly that it took you three tries to finally get the key in the lock to open the door and, once inside, you rushed quickly to your room. 

Despite it being the middle of summer, you were shivering uncontrollably and there was a chill deep in your bones. After much trouble, you got a fire started in your fireplace and you huddled next to it as closely as you could stand. And yet, the chill persisted. 

Looking down, you saw that small flecks of blood had landed on your new dress and you immediately ripped it off and threw it into the fire. Even if it could have been cleaned, the events of the night had stained the dress in ways that could never be washed off. You would never be able to forget what you witnessed no matter how hard you tried—you didn’t need a reminder of it hanging in your wardrobe as well. 

Standing before the fireplace in only your undergarments, you watched as the once beautiful gown blackened and burned, slowly falling apart as it turned to ash. You wished there was a way to rid yourself of your memories as easily as you had the dress. The sounds of the screams, the metallic bite of blood in the air, the way Tommy’s blue eyes peered at you from a face stained red. All building up to the thunderous booms of gunfire as you fled the stable.

And it was all your fault. 

You had led those men to their deaths. Even if Tommy hadn’t explicitly told you what was to happen once you lured them to the stable, you should have realized what he planned to do. You knew his reputation for dealing with threats to his empire and yet, you had agreed to do what he wished with only the slightest of hesitations. If not for you, those men would be home with their wives or children at the moment instead of lying in a heap in an empty stable waiting for a handful of Peaky Blinders to come to dispose of their bodies.

That thought was the final straw. You dropped to your knees as you emptied the contents of your stomach across your floor. Over and over you retched, even past the point of having anything left in your stomach to expel. Every time you thought the nausea had settled, the memory of the blood-soaked stable would flash in your mind and you would gag once more.

Finally, once your body physically could not take anymore, you rolled over and curled up next to the fire. With tears streaming down your face and a weak whimpering in your burning throat, you slipped into unconsciousness only to find the horrors of the night were waiting to torment you there as well.

The next few days were some of the worst of your life. At first, you tried to push what had happened to the back of your mind and move on as you attempted to continue about your days as normal. However, that was much easier said than done. The feeling of nausea failed to leave you and all you could manage to hold down was broth or a little bread. 

After the initial horror of the experience settled a little in your mind, you realized it wasn’t even the fact that all those men died that was really bothering you. Yes, the taking of any life was a tragedy but they were gang members who voluntarily chose this life. They knew the dangers involved with it and the potential consequences. And it wasn’t as if you weren’t used to witnessing violence after spending your entire life in Birmingham. It was just a way of life here.

No. What was really making you sick to your stomach was Tommy and how he had involved you in his feud. You were used to him using your body on a weekly basis—you gladly offered it up—but this? This was something completely different.  

He had made you an unwilling, unknowing accomplice to his dastardly deed. Then he had forced you to stand there and witness every last horrifying second of it. The image of his pale blue eyes boring into you from a crimson-drenched face, his outstretched finger pinning you in place from across the room, was burned into your soul. 

Why had he forced you to stay? You had done everything he had asked of you, so why did he want to punish you so? Why did he feel the need to curse you with these images that would haunt you for the rest of your life?

The dread in your chest only grew stronger with each passing day as Tommy’s scheduled visit approached. Wednesday simultaneously came too quickly and seemed to take an eternity to arrive. 

Usually just before he was set to appear, you would put on your finest dressing gown and style your hair just the way you knew he preferred. Then you would wait by the entrance with a cigarette and a glass of whiskey ready for him. However, this time when Thomas Shelby walked through your door, you were seated on the edge of your bed in a simple shift dress that laced up the front. As he entered, your shoulders folded in on themselves as you shrank slightly away from him. Hesitantly, you glanced over at him out of the corner of your eyes. 

If he noticed anything was different, Tommy did not address it. He simply strolled over to the table, took off his coat, and began unbuckling his belt as he asked, “Shall we get to it then?”

You made no move to stand or begin removing your clothes. Instead, you wrapped your arms across your chest, and with a slight quiver in your voice, you whispered, “H-how can you just walk in here as if nothing happened? As if this were just any other Wednesday and nothing has changed?"

He paused as he pursed his lips and gave a slight shrug. "Nothing has changed. I'm here for your services just as I am every week."

"Tommy, I watched you murder an entire room full of men right before my eyes. And I-I helped you do it. I mean, I know I agreed to help you but you never told me I would be leading them to you like lambs to the slaughter.”

His icy blue eyes took on an extra chill as he took a few steps towards you. With a slight bite to his words, he said, “You are neither foolish nor naive. You knew what would happen once you got to the stable.”

“I thought you would talk to them! Give them a warning, maybe send a message! Yes, I knew violence would probably be involved but I didn’t expect you to massacre every single one of them!”

A cunning, almost bordering on cruel, smile spread across his face. “Oh, but I was sending a message. Now anyone else out there who thinks they can fuck with the Peaky Blinders will see what will happen if they come for us.”

“But why did you have to involve me? What did I do to displease you to the point you would—” Tommy’s face dropped as the first tears spilled from your eyes and you took a wet, shaky breath, looking to the ceiling as you blinked rapidly and tried to maintain your composure. You had to know. This question had been haunting you almost as much as what you had witnessed. “I haven't been able to eat or sleep since that night. I feel as if I’m going mad. Every time I close my eyes all I can see is blood and I hear the howls of pain as those men died. Tommy, I have to know why you made me stay. What was the point? I tried to leave but you….Why did you make me witness that?”

For a moment, the room was still as the suffocating silence filled the room. Why wasn’t he answering your question? Maybe he didn’t have an answer. Maybe it had been a spur-of-the-moment decision in the heat of battle. Maybe to him, it meant nothing at al—

“You had to stay because I needed you to see the man I truly am.” 

Your eyes snapped to his face as you looked at him directly for the first time, your brow furrowed in astonishment. “W-what?”

Reaching into his pocket, Tommy pulled out a cigarette. However, unlike usual, he didn’t light it. He just rolled it between his fingers thoughtfully. Then he tapped the end on the table before looking back at you. “The last time I was here you spoke of the Peaky Blinders as if I was not part of them. As if I was not the one in charge of them. Just because I don’t talk about that business with you does not mean it isn’t my life. That I am not as guilty if not more of their ‘transgressions’ as you put it. And I needed to remind you of that.���

“I have never had any misconceptions of who you are or what you do. Even before the first time you came to me, I knew the name Thomas Shelby and I knew the stories. And though the man I have come to know here in this room is far different from what I expected from those stories, they were never far from my mind.”

“But knowing and seeing are two very different things, eh?” Tommy asked. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you are keeping your distance? The way you are too afraid to even look at me directly?”

“I’m not afraid of you, Tommy.”

“Is that right?” He placed his cigarette down on the table and began slowly strolling over to the bed. “Then if it isn’t fear, what is it? Disgust? Loathing? What is it that you see when you look at me now?” He stopped as he reached the foot of the bed. 

Shaking your head, you said, “Tommy, please—”

He stepped closer until he was less than an arm's length in front of you. You dropped your eyes to the floor as he towered over you. 

“Look at me.” When you continued to avoid his gaze, he firmly grabbed your chin between his fingers and forced your head up so you had no choice but to look into his startling blue eyes. “Look at me! And tell me what you see.” You opened your mouth to speak, but he added, “The truth.”

Trembling, you gazed into his eyes and whispered, “I… I see a man capable of unspeakable horrors. One who has washed in the blood of other men, and will readily do so again.”

Tommy stared back at you without the slightest reaction to your words. Then he nodded softly and released your chin. You slid closer to the head of the bed and wrapped your arms around yourself as he turned. Silently, he walked across the room, grabbed his coat, and began to put it on. 

However, you weren’t ready for him to leave. Maybe it was his explanation and reasoning as to his actions or maybe it was the idea that if you let him walk out that door you may never see him again, but something deep inside you had shifted as you answered his question. What you had said was your honest answer, but the truth was so much more complicated than that. And you couldn’t let him leave without hearing the rest of your response.

Taking a deep breath, you stood off the bed, walked over to him, and placed your hand on his forearm. He paused, one brow raised as he waited for you to explain your action.

Wetting your lips, you softly said, “But I also see a man who only does these things for the sake of his family and their interests.” Tommy’s face remained emotionless, but you felt some of the tension ease out of him under your touch so you continued. 

“I don’t think I can ever support your actions that night and it still makes me sick that you made me a part of it and then forced me to watch. You should have at least warned me or let me leave because I didn’t need the lesson you tried to teach me. I hate what you did, but I understand why it was necessary. And as much as I’m loath to admit it…. There is a sort of honor in it. Those men posed a threat to the lives of every member of the Peaky Blinders as well as their loved ones. And you shed their blood so the blood of your people wouldn’t be.” 

Your hand slowly trailed up his arm and across his chest until it rested just over his heart. Feeling it drumming steadily against your palm, you softly added, “The Peaky Blinders are lucky to have someone like you watching out for them.”

As usual, Tommy maintained his mask of indifference, but not even he could control his heart. You felt it jump underneath your hand as the drumming began to pick up its tempo. He blinked, long and slow, before gazing at you once more and it seemed as if some of the ice in his eyes had melted ever so slightly. 

He placed his palm over top of where your hand still lay on his chest. “I hope you know that you are one of the people under my protection. I swore I would never let any harm befall you, even that by my own hand.” His other hand reached up to cup your face, his thumb gently tracing the dark bags that had formed this past week under your eyes. “And yet it seems that is exactly what I did. I thought by making you see me for who I really am I would be protecting you. But I was so blinded by that thought I did not see the hurt I would cause instead. I am truly sorry.”

You were utterly speechless. As long as you had known him, you had never once heard Tommy admit fault or apologize for any of his actions. He only ever brushed off these incidents and changed the subject, but for him to tell you he was sorry? He must honestly regret his poor decision.

“I-I forgive you,” you whispered, your eyes fluttering as his thumb continued to caress your face. “Just don’t ever put me in a situation like that again. Please.”

“I promise.” His hand slid down your cheek slightly until his fingers brushed against your lips. “Shall we seal it with a kiss?”

Faintly, you nodded, your head spinning with anticipation for what was to come. Tommy bent over until his lips lightly grazed yours, the feeling no more than a whisper. For a moment, your heart dropped in disappointment and you figured you had misread the situation. However, when Tommy’s hand wrapped around the back of your neck and he pulled you into him, the kiss became something else entirely. 

You sometimes kissed Tommy during your weekly appointments but even then, at the peak of pleasure, it never felt like this. Now, there was a heat, an urgency, a need behind his lips that made your knees grow weak. It was something you had never experienced with any man, let alone Tommy.  But the fact that it was him kissing you like this made everything more intense and overwhelming in the best way. You never wanted it to stop.

As you began kissing him back with the same intensity, Tommy’s hands came to rest on your hips and he guided you over to the table. Dropping into one of the chairs, he pulled you onto his lap, your legs spread on either side of his waist. You could feel him already hardening in his slacks and you wrapped your legs around his hips to draw yourself in even closer. 

He buried his face in your hair, his long eyelashes fluttering against the edge of your face for a moment until he turned his head. Slowly, his lips slipped across your jaw, breathing ghostlike kisses in their wake as his mouth traveled along the curve of your throat. When he reached your shoulder, he bit down lightly. This drew a soft gasp of pleasure from your lips and you felt him buck against you in response. 

Yet before his mouth could dip any lower, you tilted his chin so you could see his face. 

His usually pale blue eyes had darkened with lust and the hunger you saw there made you ache deep within your core. This was a different side to Tommy, a side that you had never seen before. While your time together was always pleasurable, you were providing him a service and that was always apparent in his actions. But now…it felt about you just as much as about him. It felt like something deeper than just his regular weekly appointment. Yet before you lost yourself completely to him, before you let yourself believe it could be more, you had to know for sure.

Holding your breath, you murmured, “What is this, Tommy? Business or pleasure?”

Brushing his fingers across your cheek, he responds in a low, husky whisper. “For me, it stopped being business long ago.”

A brilliant smile spread across your face as you surged forward to recapture his lips. Kissing you back with the same fervor, he stood, his strong arms supporting you so you remained wrapped around his waist, and carried you over to your bed. Without breaking your kiss, he laid you down and settled above you. 

Your eyes drifted shut and you could feel his nimble fingers begin fiddling with the laces across the front of your dress, even as his tongue slid past your lips. You arched your back to allow him easier access to the ties as the aching between your legs intensified. But after a moment, he froze and then suddenly pulled back. At first, you were worried you did something wrong, but as you opened your eyes, you saw all of his concentration had shifted to the laces still perfectly fastened in place.

As he continued his futile attempt to untie your dress, he cursed softly and muttered, “Damn you woman for wearing this infernal thing."

Leaning forward, you smiled into his neck before teasing, your lips brushing across his skin, “Come now, Tommy. One might think you’d never undressed a woman before.”

He paused, his head tilting until he locked eyes with you. Then, without breaking eye contact, he curled his fingers into the fabric of your bodice and gave a firm pull, causing the dress to rip open down to your waist. You let out a gasp of surprise but Tommy swallowed the sound as his mouth found yours once again.

With your legs still encircling his waist, you pulled him in closer until his hips were flush with yours and you could feel him straining for release against your clothed core. Slowly, you began rolling your hips to rub against him and you were rewarded with a deep rumble deep within his chest. 

“Not so fast, you little minx,” Tommy growled, nipping at your lip. “There’s no rush tonight. You wanted to know what this was between us? Well, I’m going to show you. Over and over and over, until you never again doubt that this is all about pleasure.” A soft shudder of pleasure shivered down your spine at his words and he smiled. “Now, let me watch you take off what’s left of that dress then our night can begin.”

You had serviced Thomas Shelby more times than you could count. But that night became the first time you and Tommy made love….over and over and over and over, just like he promised. 

Remarkably, you slept like a babe that night—the first real sleep you had had since the night in the stable. Even though you hadn’t opened your eyes yet, you could tell you had slept through the rest of the evening and well into the next morning by the warmth of the sun trickling in through your window onto the bed. The sunbeams felt heavenly on your bare skin and you hummed contently as you basked in the glow. 

Stretching to help wake up your sluggish limbs, you opened your eyes and found yourself staring directly into a pair of familiar glacial eyes. 

“Tommy!” You were instantly wide awake as you scrambled out of bed, dragging the bedsheet along with you to wrap around your naked body. “Wha-what are you still doing here? I mean, you don’t stay afterward. You never stay afterward.” You felt your face grow hot as you realized now that you had stolen the sheet, he was lying bare in your bed, fully on display. It took all of your willpower to keep your eyes locked on his face and not let them drift down the muscular planes of his body or linger on the hardness between his legs.

Completely unfazed by your reaction or his naked state, Tommy propped himself up on one elbow. “You said you hadn’t been sleeping this past week yet you looked so peaceful last night I didn’t want to disturb you.”

You blinked several times in quick succession as you tried to process that information. “So you stayed….for me?”

He shot you a coy grin. “Yes, I stayed for you. Though my motives may not have been as selfless as you make it seem.” His expression softened and he opened up his arms inviting you back to bed. “The truth is, I too found myself more at peace with you by my side than I have in a long time.”

You relaxed slightly, the motion causing the sheet to slip down until your breasts were almost completely uncovered. Tommy’s eyes shifted down to them and you had to bite your lip to keep from smiling. Apparently, for once you had more self-control than the great Thomas Shelby. But that feeling of superiority didn’t last long as your nerves once again gripped you as you faced the situation at hand.

“So, if that’s true….What do we do now?” you hesitantly asked as you worried the sheet between your fingers, afraid his answer might have changed now in the bright light of day. “Do we resume our business as usual or has this become something else? Something more?”

“That’s up to you, isn’t it?” Tommy reached over to the small side table where his pack of cigarettes and lighter were waiting and pulled one out. Once it was lit, he took a long drag, held it, and slowly let the smoke stream from his lips. “I told you last night that this has not been business to me for a long time. I’ve respected what you do but if I had my way, you’d be mine and mine alone.”

This time, you didn’t even attempt to mask the smile spreading across your face. In fact, you embraced it until it was shining almost as brightly as the dancing across the room. “And what would you do with me, Thomas Shelby? If I was yours and yours alone?” you teased, leaning forward to show off even more of your exposed breast.

“I’d give you the fucking world.”

All of your playfulness evaporated with your sharp intake of breath. You scanned Tommy’s face for any indication he was joking or teasing you back, but there was none. As you locked eyes with him, all you saw was sincerity. It was truly how he felt. 

Trying to project the same level of honesty back at him, you whispered, “I don’t need the world, Tommy. As long as I have you…that’s all I’ll ever need.”

“Well, you are in luck, love,” he said as he stubbed out his cigarette on the edge of the table. His eyes swiveled back to yours and he added matter-of-factly, “Because you’ve got me.”

You nodded, tears slightly blurring your vision. “And you’ve got me too. For forever. Starting right now.”

You dropped the sheet to the floor, pausing for just a moment to let Tommy take you in. Then you climbed back on the bed and into his waiting arms. 

I am toying with an idea for a Part 3 so let me know if you would be interested!

Tag List: @lucien-calore, @zebralover

[scientested]

It's like some kind of fucked up animal trapped in a robot's body to me

[scout90-again]

Since people are posting their favorite tadc clips, here's mine

[battle-subway-ghost]

You receive a dream.

It does not belong to you.

Project: Morelia Viridis

:]

// Response to this.

Heed the tags of the original post, (read the tags,) + vomiting and panic attacks.

It burns.

It burns. It burns, it burns it burns everything burns-

F̴r̴o̴s̴t̴ Flames scorch his lungs, the smoke and soot rendering them useless as he attempts to gasp for air. His breaths come in short gasps- violent coughs punctuating each one afterwards.

The cushions are squeezed onto for dear life as he flails around- ash and smoke blocking out his vision. Something's loud- screaming. Something's screaming.

Screams fill the surrounding area- louder and louder as the seconds tick by. He thrashes around, trying to reach out, grasp at someone- something- himself, his throat- anything to make the burning stop-

A frozen claw wraps around his arm, the frigid, icy claws of Death itself, about to tear him away from his own f̴r̴o̴z̴e̴n̴ charred body...

...

No.

It was metal.

Paris stills, hacking once again before taking a deep breath. The first one he had managed. He blinks a few times, hot tears clouding his vision further...

Gilgamesh stood above him, chattering anxiously as he gently lowered Paris' arm. Paris stared up at the Bisharp, his senses starting to clear. The screaming had stopped, his own mouth closing. Was he- had he been screaming?

The nausea hits him like a wave. He lurches forward, a burning sensation rising up his throat-

...

He realizes why he couldn't see earlier.

Paris groans as the pain in his head finally registers, recoiling almost instinctively. His temples throb as he lays back down, slightly propping himself up against the armrest.

Paris feels something warm press up against his chest. Bringing a hand down, he can feel a familiar softness. A welcome comfort, especially after what he had just witnessed- dreamt..?

He takes deep, stuttering breaths. His lungs still burn, but he can properly breathe again despite it. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to ignore or dull the incessant throbbing of his skull. It's like he had hit something- hard, at that. He knows there's pain medication somewhere in the house, but he doesn't trust himself enough to stand up and get it.

...Plus, there was no reason to move. He absentmindedly stroked the soft fur, slowly distracting himself from everything going on around him.

...

When had he fallen asleep in the first place? It was dark- too dark. It must've been late at night, already...

He can't even begin to imagine how late he is to work. But he's still in too much pain- he couldn't go even if he wanted to.

...

"...why do I even bother..?"

[snoddie]

The month of June day 26

This is how I've felt lately please end me.

🤢🤢🤢

[quitealotofsodapop]

[sharing some of Macaque's symptoms due to the energy transfer]

This is probably related to being de-energized from the transfer, but I can't help but imagine both dealing with things like morning sickness or SWK now unable eat anything peach-related because the baby doesn't like the fruit X'D

Yup! Turns out that "sharing" the energy as often as Wukong does, sympathetically gives him a lot of Mac's symptoms. He might as well be "background pregnant" while MK is still in the oven. I got the idea from the JTTW where SWK and Macaque shared the pain of the Headache Circlet.

The idea of Wukong experiencing an extreme repulsion towards fresh fruit is hilarious. Whats even more so? Macaque doesnt have that problem. Wukong's symptoms are his own.

Wukong: "Oh boy peaches!" *nom!*

Wukong: "...why I need to throw up rn?"

Macaque, happily eating a peach sorbet: "Cus you're weak."

Another symptom that Wukong has that Mac doesn't; is that he can *see* the transfer of energy between their bodies whenever he uses Gold Vision. And he can sorta see the little guy forming in it - which means he accidentally spoils some details.

Wukong, Gold Vision on: "Whoa! The soul is a boy!"

Macaque, who was just chilling and watching Monkey Cop: "...what?"

Wukong will ham up the symptoms to get others to do stuff for him ie; do the dishes, give him food, let him sleep in etc. He is also def the one who wears the goofy maternity clothes with slogans like "Baby on Board" or "Eating for Three" (technically accurate) on them.

If Macaque ever accidentally "ate" Wukong too much, SWK would get faint and both will get very ill.

[arctic-hands]

Ugh I need to take an important med with food or I'll throw up but I'm pretty sure if I eat anything I'll throw up

[b1zmuth]

The Mishaps of SITE:DD | Obey Me! x Reader

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

[File 2] \\ 5K words

SC \\ Monsters, gore, the SCP foundation, you date everyone ig… slight angst but with a happy ending, fluff, sci-fi, experimenting, mentioned suicide, everyone is a little off their rocker, you are NOT innocent!! I'll add more tags later..

TL;DR - Think the SCP Foundation, but you are the researcher who unfortunately gets assigned to Seven Keter classified objects. 

EXTREME TW's : graphic depictions of vomiting and death smelling objects + small suicide mentioning // be extremely wary of this when reading! thanks!

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

Open FILE.[FOLDER_2]? > Please select one option. (Yes/Yes) . . . FILE.[FOLDER_2] Opening.. Please wait.

Oh, brother.

Now you were seriously in for it.

Just imagine; you decided to take a risky gamble on some paperwork that you didn't read thoroughly- ended up signing some… papers, that ended up with you viciously hurling the contents of your lunch right back up your windpipe and into the toilet.

Seriously! You were so screwed- unbelievably at that.

Due to your risky signage of those papers, you accidentally signed off on volunteering with a partner for ‘’SCP EXPERIMENTATIONS’’, which translated to ‘’Oh yeah btw we don't have enough on-fielders to sacrifice so heres a volunteering sheet with 4x the pay if you sign up and you have zero guarantee of not being assigned to a keter class so if you sign off on this your kinda fucked ngl lmao’’

And there goes another chunk of your overpriced egg and cheese sandwich.

‘’You are expendable.’’

‘’Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! I should have never took- that f-FUCKING risk, of course, Jesus Christ himself damns me to an early d-death by being slaughtered by a SCP. just fantastic! I should start writing a will- yes, yes! Write a will… but to who? I don't have any family… oh fuck me! Everything seems to get worse by the second in this hellhole!’’ You practically whisper-shouted at yourself, causing anyone who happened to pass by the private bathroom to start questioning your mental sanity- your hot tears and snot dripping down your face and dropping into the toilet, causing your somewhat visible reflection to ripple in the murky water- the ringing in your ears seeming to increase in volume with every shaky breath you managed to suck in.

“If only you didn’t take that risk. You know, this is all your fault.’’

You looked at your messy reflection, watching your own reflection slowly ripple into an undistinguishable mess of swirls and blobs of food- the pungent smell filling your nostrils and causing you to gag and quickly back up away from the toilet, a cold sweat rushing all over your body. ‘’Maybe you're right. It is my fault.’’ you let the tears fall once more, not even attempting to wipe your face for some type of decency if someone were to walk in.

‘’This is my penance for what I’ve done.’’ ‘’This is your penance for what you’ve done.’’

. . . Everything is getting brighter- so bright. Is this real life? . .

The door to the bathroom opens and quickly shuts- a mess of a purple and peachy-colored blob rushes in and kneels in front of you- waving a tanned…something, that you couldn’t even make out somewhere near your face- the ringing in your ears masking the already muffled voice of the purple blob- ‘’MC? God, it reeks in here- are you okay?’’

What did that walking grape say to you? This damn ringing almost wouldn't even allow the reverberated sounds of your heavy breathing to make it to your ears- you can forget about it if anyone said anything outside of your ear-’’MC! Shit- we might have to get a medic- SOLOMOOON! COME QUICK!’’

While the purple-colored grape desperately used any method to get you responsive, your mouth opened and closed repeatedly, as if you were trying to speak, but nothing audible would come out, much to your frustration, the blob still didn't catch your goldfish movements even with the way you were tugging and pulling borderline anything to catch its attention- the light was getting brighter, and your vision was starting to turn red..you guessed you wouldn’t have long before…whatever this was put you out of your misery- so in a last-ditch effort, you put all your energy into screaming your final words.

‘’TELL THIRTEEN THAT I ENTRUST EVERYTHING TO HER!’’ . . . Wow. Well, at least your figurines wouldn’t end up in a Goodwill somewhere in Timbuktu.

And that was the last thing you said, or well, what YOU remember saying before you promptly blacked out and fully embraced your incoming divine judgment and thirty-minute express Uber to the deepest pits of Hell.

The only setback to this heavenly gift was that you woke up in one of the facility med bays, the blinding white light fooling you into thinking that one of the angels in heaven accidentally ordered the wrong Uber and sent you to the wrong place, until you rubbed your eyes and noticed that you were, in fact, not in heaven- but in the one place you had been begging Jesus to take the wheel and lead you directly out of this shithole.

You groaned at the sight, nearly tearing up at the notion that you had just passed out, and didn’t suddenly keel over and die in Thirteen’s bathroom. Fuck!

Mentally cursing at the higher being that stopped you from leaving your misery, you swung yourself out of bed and made a straight B-line for the nearest exit- ‘’Uh, excuse me?! Your supposed to be in bed and resting!’’ you heard a shrill and child-like voice speak from behind you, making you turn around in surprise to reveal a blonde-haired boy with blue eyes dressed in a regular doctoral outfit- and wait just a second, now that you look at him… that's a not a boy but a whole ass KID?? My god and you thought this place was bad enough- this was just downright wrong, alongside the numerous violations of public safety and multiple HIPPA violations, having child labor added to the tall order of lawsuits would NOT look so pretty on paper- maybe it really was time to start looking for a casket..

‘’Cmon! Back to bed!’’ The blonde ordered, watching you sluggishly walk back to your bed and settle in before you turned your head and stared at him for a solid 30 seconds before he finally got uncomfortable and spoke up again- ‘’Dah! Quit staring at me! If you're really that bothered by my appearance, I'm actually thousands of years older than you!’’ he looked at you with an annoyed look and pulled up a chair next to your bed.

‘’Okay, so what I'm hearing here is that you look like a whole child, and act like one too- but supposedly you are thousands of years old…yeahhh, I don't buy it.’’ You shook your head at the kid, watching how he looked at you with utter disbelief and shock, his body lurching forward- ‘’I- You do work here, or did the impact from your head hitting the bottom of Miss Thirteen’s bathroom floor scramble your brain THAT bad?’’ the boy smirked at you before he triumphantly sat back in his seat- totally oblivious to the seething person in front of him.

You weren't going to argue with this kid anymore- the blinding whites of this room were going to drive you insane if you didn't make a hasty dash to the nearest exit within the next MINUTE.

‘’Anyways, let's go back to square one- my name is Luke, I'm an angel that was recruited by the foundation to heal injured workers!’’ He flashed you a bright smile before he got a small pack of sweets out of his pocket and handed them to you- ‘’These are medicated sweets, they’ll help ease any pain your blackout may cause later on, I highly recommend that you take one now that your fully awake.’’ you nodded your head and thanked him for the sweets, popping a wing-shaped cookie into your mouth- feeling the sugary taste of the cookie practically melt inside of your mouth, surprisingly, with no hint of medication in it- ‘’..so, Luke, how long have I been out?’’

‘’About a day, Simeon was looking after you for most of it.’’ Luke responded, tilting his head to the side as he shot a nervous smile at your terrified face- ‘’I’ll bring you a cold towel..’’ . . . . . ‘’And then I assume you blacked out…again, which led up to now- when you're finally awake… Should I buy you some nausea medicine?’’ A worried Thirteen asked you, starting to rise out of the chair Luke was previously sitting in before you passed out for the second time- ‘’Y’know, being an On-Fielder isn't as bad as your making it out to be- just look at me and Solomon for example, yes, he is a complete and utter dumbass…BUT! He wouldn’t hurt me even if i tore him limb from limb.’’ She said, giving you a gentle smile as she held your hand in hers- to which you just shook your head at the gesture.

You gave her a small giggle- ‘’The way you looked like you fought a fully grown bear two weeks ago would say otherwise- and you say he wouldn’t hurt you.’’

‘’You're not getting the point here, MC! Im saying that there's no guaranteed chance that you’ll end up with a shitty anomaly-’’ you cut off Thirteen, ‘’But there's a possibility, right? As if! I've lived the past six years, somewhat, unscathed! I’d rather not be turned into a smear on the wall by some random beedogcat hybrid thing!’’ you lurched forward and told Thirteen, who just responded with a loud sigh- ‘’You practically stressing yourself half to death worrying about getting an anomaly that could quite literally just be Safe or Elucid!’’ She shook her head and gestured towards Luke, who was floating towards the both of you with a certain look on his face.

‘’MC- Simeon just dropped off this package for you, he says HR wants a confirmation soon..’’ he looked worried as he handed the yellow package to you, running off towards the office of the med-bay to, presumably, fetch you some more medicine for your upcoming blackout.

You now held the package in your hands, gingerly running the tips of your fingers alongside the edges of it, before you shot a desperate look at Thirteen- ‘’Im gonna be so pissed if you did allat yapping in my ear just for me to be assigned a Keter class.’’ you said before you opened the package and read the contents.

SCP EXPERIMENTATION | RESULTS . . . Thank you for volunteering for [SCP EXPERIMENTATION], MC, [REDACTED]

We value your humble contribution towards a new dawn with the substitution of a looming threat to humanity as a whole, and the contribution towards further research into the nature and behaviors of SCPs.

After careful consideration and sorting of MC, [REDACTED]’s personal file, your results have culminated to bring out your full potential as an [EXPERIENCED] On-Field Researcher, and your SCP’s full potential as an addition.

Your SCP’s details are listed below.

Item #: SCP-6667 Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-6667 is highly dangerous and any movement and/or action needs to be exercised with extreme caution due to its ██████████████, ███████-███████, ███ ████ ██….…

We sincerely hope that you and your newfound SCP further our push for research and safety with SCPs, and with your considerable predicted efforts, your pay will follow suit. Please be ready to meet your newfound subject(s) at a.m. 0300 hours from the moment you receive your package. - Matt, from HR.

* NOTE: The SCP Foundation is not liable for any on-site accidents or injuries via Non-SCP Anomalies. personnel loved ones are required to claim liabilities through a Personal Insurance Firm. (PIF)

It felt like your mouth was stuck agape as you stared at the paper in horror- constantly reading over the same word like it was a religion to you; Keter, Keter, Keter Keter, Keter, Keter, Keter, Keter, Keter. A fucking Keter.

A Keter class. The damn near kill-on-sight class which few researchers ever, and you meant- a few EVER survived. You would have already been pushing your luck if you made it out on the first DAY in one piece- let alone surviving another encounter with that class.

YOU. had been assigned to a Keter.

Starting to hyperventilate you desperately tried to clamor out of your bed- only to find yourself restrained to the bed with brown leather belts. And even as you screamed for Thirteen to help you out, she only stared at you with a blank expression on her face before the corners of her lips slowly curled into a toothless smile- ‘’You are expendable.’’ ..what?

Her body starts to curl on itself- her eyes now becoming soulless and morphing into pits of the void, her smile still being toothless and making you feel uneasy whenever you looked into it- ‘’You are a disgusting human being.’’ you heard her talk to you…but her mouth never seemed to move? You were suddenly startled by her neck stretching inhumanely long, long enough to the point where her nose started brushing up against your own, her mouth that was too close for comfort permeating the gut-wrenching stench and displeasure of death, that same smell that you swore you had gotten used to.

“If only you didn’t take that risk. You know, this is all your fault.’’ Her mouth stretched open, the stench getting worse and worse until you started dry heaving due to it- your eyes betraying your mind and the rest of your body as it gazed into the inhumanly stretched mouth of the former friend you called ‘’Thirteen’’, and you screamed as you finally saw what laid inside of its throat- a pale hand, which adorned yellow painted nails, emerged from the back of its throat desperately trying to claw its way towards you- ‘’No. No. no-NO! This isn't real- THIS ISNT FUCKING REAL!’’ you screamed now trying any possible way to get out of your restraints, thrashing back and forth to wiggle your way out, sweat now adorning your body like a heavy winter coat, your hair stuck to your face while your eyes stayed glued on the thing that you once called your friend- your breathing getting harder and harder as you took in more of the putrid smell of death-

And then it all stopped.

Thirteen was gone. The smell was gone. That voice was gone.

You lay in a white room filled with a multitude of different shaped and colored flowers, a gentle breeze flowing through the room blew in your favorite scent, and your ragged breathing slowed down with every deep breath you took.

It felt calming. Like you could finally breathe fresh air for the first time.

Your shrunk pupils darted across every inch of the room, scanning it for any hint of danger before you realized that you could feel something on top of your eyelids since whatever it was slightly twitched every time you blinked- you slowly raised your hands towards your eyes, softly landing them on something..warm? It felt like a hand, but who’s hand? Are you dreaming?

‘’Come find me, MC. Save Me.’’ You felt drowsy listening to the voice, but it wasn’t like the voice from earlier- it felt more calm, less sinister…who really was this talking to you? It had to be thirteen..or that guy Luke was talking about….it..couldn’t..be any- anyone….else?

Your thoughts dragged out as you felt your muscles twitch and shake, your mind slowly shutting down- before you woke up in a cold sweat.

You now found yourself back in the Med-Bay, still sitting in this damned bed, but now you were accompanied by a gorgeous dark-skinned male with beautiful brown fringed hair which was parted on the sides of his head due to his…head wings? Is he deaf? Nevermind… He sat in the same chair that Thirteen did, his head was tilted downwards toward a clipboard which had something that you couldn’t discern written on it.

He seemed to notice your presence as he looked up from his clipboard, setting it aside on the nearby nightstand as he brushed himself off- ‘’Welcome back, MC! I assume that Luke has told you about me, no?’’ you nodded your head. ‘’That's great, do you happen to feel any discomfort or dizziness? Any worrying feelings?’’ you shook your head no- ‘’I'm happy to hear you feel fine, especially after what just happened- here, I'm giving you some fludrocortisone acetate to help with your fainting.’’ He said in a cheerful tone, smiling at you again after handing you a glass of water.

You were parched. Your mouth damn near felt like a desert with how dry it felt, so this glass of water was a blessing in disguise for you, thank god for Simeon- ‘’Don't fret too much about your meeting, you have an hour to properly rest and get yourself into a better headspace- I’ll be right here at your side if you need someone to talk to as well.’’ he said, getting up from the chair to walk over towards the nearby bookshelf. well, at least you had an hour to recollect your thoughts and mentally prepare yourself for what could be very well the last moments of your life, ‘’what a pain it's going to be loading my tomato soup-looking ass into a coffin.’’ you slightly snickered at your joke before you rolled over and your mind wandered off elsewhere, your eyes subconsciously drifting over towards the now sitting Simeon, who was quietly reading a book beside your bed.

‘’Simeon.’’ He looks over towards you, his eyebrows raised- ‘’Would it be rude to ask if you and Luke are…y’know, non-human?’’ you asked, expecting him to go ballistic on you for asking such a question- I mean, it did happen to you once before when asking an angel that Thirteen was watching over- guy got SUPER pissed that you didn’t just use common sense and look at the winds that were hidden on his back (which were covered by his long hair), god, that guy was a fucking dick now that you think back on it.

Simeon only smiled as the wings on either side of his head flapped happily- ‘’It's not rude to ask a question that has a clear answer, Luke has wings as I do but he is just too young for his wings to be fully visible!’’ you smiled back at him, happy that he wasn’t being as much of a dick like the last angel you asked this question to- ‘’How come you dont have a halo then?’’ ‘’It's too much of a problem to have floating on the back of my head, I tried to make it work but alas it ended up getting stuck trying to get through a door..’’ he shook his head whilst lowly chuckling to himself, ‘’Anyways, I'd love to keep on talking with you but I think we’re out of time here- but please don't start worrying! I specifically put in a medical request for Thirteen to accompany you during your time with your SCP…or well, Thirteen practically begged me to do something to aid with your panic attacks.’’

Your heart dropped hearing him say anything that hinted towards your looming death, but you just sucked it up since you would be with Thirteen- someone who could write out your will and put all of your figurines to good use. Simeon waved you off and shouted something along the lines of ‘’letting Luke know that you are bidding farewell!’’ with you shouting a happy ‘’See you later!’’ back at him.

The walk of shame towards the meeting room was absurd.

Totally absurd because there were people literally prancing around the main floor with whole-ass deers, frolicking around with bees, and JUMPING for joy at their newfound SCPs. The fuck?! Are you just the mayor of Frown Town or are these people actually on some type of hardcore drug? Because there is no possible way that the foundation didn't give all of these people Safe class SCPs- if they were going to do this then how come you didn't get something that wouldn’t kill me on sight?

‘’Your results have culminated to bring out your full potential as an [EXPERIENCED] On-Field Researcher’’ Right. They looked through your file to personally assign you a specific SCP.

Well, despite this unnerving fact, you pushed forward, determined to at least get a glimpse of your personal grim reaper, this fact pushed you forward with some pep in your step until you pushed open the doors to the meeting room- Matt. goddamn Matt.

Of COURSE they decided to let Matt be the tour guide for this whole shitshow- the one person you wanted to stay away from you at all times was HERE and going to be walking around with you for a solid five minutes to your new laboratory- Jesus fuck! Was the foundation that determined to get you to kill yourself?? ‘’MC! Oh, it is so, so, great to see my new favorite employee looking so delighted about their new job promotion! Come! Let's turn this frown upside down!’’ Matt said with a disgustingly cheery tone, his annoying ass smile seemed to get brighter as your frown drooped even more as he grabbed your hand and guided you towards your gravestone- I'm sure you will looooooove your new SCP! He is very docile and kind-hearted, his only setback is that he sleeps a ton, so getting research out of him will SURELY be a hassle!’’ he let go of your hand and twirled a bit before grabbing your hand, again, and further leading you to the airlocked door of your new laboratory.

Okay, now you were convinced that everyone was on this newfound hardcore drug and that you were the only sane fucker in the facility- because what fucking Keter class is DOCILE and KIND-HEARTED? Either Matt is a complete and utter dumbass who is totally oblivious to the most important aspect of his job or he genuinely didn’t know about the class you were assigned to.

Matt opened the door for you, ushering you inside as he explained the password system to your lab, giving you the code on a sticky note, and walking over to a panel that had several buttons on it as he flicked on a button which turned on the lights in the ‘’research station’’ as he calls it before he beckoned you over to him- ‘’And now for the grand reveal..! I, Matt, will be giving MC the honor of revealing their SCP!’’ he squealed, looking at you with a ‘’Hurry up and push that button’’ look as you just sighed and flicked on the switch next to the one he already turned on- with the lights slowly turning on to reveal a… Cow? No, human-cow cosplaying human curled up in the corner? What??

‘’Okay Matt, I'm going to be straight with you- what in the actual fuck is this? This isn't an SCP, it's some random guy cosplaying a cow that you plucked out of an anime convention!’’ You looked at Matt with a dumbfounded look as you looked back at the sleeping cow-cosplaying man before looking back at Matt- ‘’Oh yes it is, MC, that is in fact not a human but an SCP, he’s just assuming a human-like form to fool the task force into thinking he is docile. Not saying that he is violent, he just seems to not like his sleeping to be disturbed.’’ did Matt think you were that stupid? ‘’Matt, what the actual fuck are you talking about? ‘’Oh YeAh, He’S DoCiLe!’’ THAT MOTHERFUCKER IS ASSUMING A FORM TO FOOL PEOPLE INTO COMING INTO HIS ENCLOSURE! No, and I mean NO docile ANYTHING assumes a form to lure people into its habitat! How the hell can you actually look me in my face and tell me that it's DOCILE?!’’ you angrily pointed towards the still sleeping cowman

Matt's tone darkened, ‘’Let's not forget our positions here, or do you really want a black mark that badly? Either way, you have a job to do- valuable research to provide to the Foundation, i highly suggest you start moving to assess the SCP’s danger level- now, please. He told you, handing you a briefing file that you didn’t even know he had with him- your eyes quickly scanning over the material of said file, landing on one specific word before you looked up and stared into the soul of poor Matt.

It's like the fucker wanted you eliminated and wiped off of the face of the earth at his earliest convenience! This was downright ridiculous- get into the enclosure WITH a demon Keter class? Are you serious? fuuuuuck that.

You pinched the bridge of your nose in annoyance, ‘’Oh godfuckingdammit! Give me a break! A COW! A COW!! A DEMON COW AT THAT! You’ve got to be joking- seriously! If I walk in that THING’s enclosure I'm going to be not pushing 26 but fuckin’ DAISIES! Matt, I don't think you understand the problem here, You're putting me in the same room as a KETER- do you want me dead that bad?’’

Matt shook his head- ‘’Get in the enclosure, the black mark doesn't argue back nor does the rest of HR, after all, they will side with me, once again.’’

‘’Fuck you, Matt.’’ You said whilst angrily punching in the code to the enclosure- cautiously walking into the brightly lit room as you had a one-man staredown with the cow before you softly tapped your foot, attempting to wake it without immediately being torn limb from limb- and somehow you succeeded- having a grumbling, somewhat pissed, cow look at you like you just kicked a puppy and napalmed an orphanage, and kicked someone's grandma down a flight of stairs- god how much you missed the Med-Bay now…

Now that you could get a clear view of your short-time good ol’ buddy and pal- you could see his outfit clearly; somewhat blue hair with white streaks on the tips, a tired look adorning his face, and a blue jacket with a hood that he paired with an olive colored pair of pants, with damn near knee high brown boots- what in the actual fuck was this guy wearing? Damn, where did they FIND this man?

‘’What do you want?’’

What in the fuck- who said that? You thought to yourself, glancing back to an empty lab with no Matt in sight- oh that fucker REALLY wanted you dead. ‘’Fucking Matt…’’

Was it that voice that was nagging you about being a bad person and this that and the third earlier? Maybe it was… him?

‘’Was that you who just said that?’’ you stared at the cow who was lying down on the ground, watching it for any movement in its mouth before you heard the voice again- ‘’Yes, now answer my question already.’’- were you actually going schizophrenic or something? Because you were just staring at his mouth and didn't move one bit when you heard the voice- ‘’The fuck? Are you talking telepathically?’’ you asked the cow, only to get a now angry response- ‘’Are you deaf? Or just willfully being ignorant? Do you have zero sense of danger?’’

That's right, that cow was asking you to answer its question- ‘’I want the same thing as you do, for me to get the fuck outta here. I don't know if you saw that guy back there but he FORCED me to be in here with you.’’ You gestured to the empty room across from the both of you before you noticed something small and pink on the glass window- and you couldn’t get to it due to the walking threat lying down in front of you, especially the fact that any sudden movement could aggravate this guy and send you 6ft under, pushing daisies.

‘’So you're stuck here too, that guy wrote on that paper something about how he locked the doors for bonding time’’ The cow gestured towards the pink paper that was on the window, and then looked back at you.

Without missing a beat, he suddenly appeared in front of you and wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing it with some considerable force since your face slightly twitched at the sudden cutoff of oxygen, and the cow did NOT seem to like that result as he let up with the squeezing- ‘’You really don't have any sense of danger, huh?’’ at this point, you didn’t even try to fight his grip, you just shrugged and accepted your fate- ‘’I do have a sense of danger- I just knew what type of bullshit I would be going into, but y’know, I'm forced to work with you. No point in having a sense of danger if you're just going to die by the end of the business day.’’

He sighed and fully let go of you, walking back to his previous spot in the corner and curling up into a ball, hiding his face from the bright lights of the room- ‘’How boring, it's no fun killing you if you're already wanting to die, that's like im granting your shitty wish. I'm a demon, not a genie.

‘’If you're a demon then go do us both a solid and kill that fucker, Matt!’’ you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes at the thought of his eventual return- ‘’What exactly did this Matt guy do to you for his name to be accompanying some form of death every five fucking seconds in your head?! You need to take anger management classes or something.’’

This fucking sassy fuck- ‘’It's because Matt sat there and LOCKED me in a room with YOU, no offense by the way, all for the purpose of killing me- like what type of psychopath sits there and leaves the glory of watching your greatest enemy be killed in real-time to go frolic around in an imaginary field or whatever he does in his free time! It's borderline stupid!’’

‘’Not only that, the guy keeps on babbling on about how you're so docile and kind-hearted!’’ You finished your rant about Matt, laying down against the cold, hard tiles and staring up into the ceiling- ‘’what a dumbass.’’ ‘’Tell me about it- the guys been doing nothing but riding my ass for the past six years and the moment he got a promotion he starts going on a whole tangent about how he’s so important and that he’ll put a mark on me if I step out of line- fucking power-tripping!’’

‘’And he got this promotion because why?’’

‘’Because he [DATA EXPURGED BY ADMIN_M], [REDACTED].’’

The cow seemed to pause at your words before he uncurled himself and stared at you, much to your dismay- ‘’He… did what to [REDACTED]?’’

‘’Yeah, he did, the only and probably only SCP I will ever trust again. And he [DATA EXPURGED BY ADMIN_M], and I hate his fucking guts for it- I sometimes wonder about her family she used to tell me stories about… I really wanted to meet some of her older brothers if our plan worked.’’

‘’Tell me about these stories [REDACTED] told you, now.’’ ‘’It's not like I have anything better to do.’’ . . . . . . . . . ‘’She really was the light of the foundation, making the suicide rate in this damned place drop to an all-time low! Hell, even the SCPs themselves enjoyed her presence, and that's impressive to get that senile old man down the hallway to shut the fuck up with his happy-go-lucky attitude.’’

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