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satocidal · 5 months

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𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ “Wanna Play Doctor?” — Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto

Synopsis: a simple visit to the doctor—except the Nurse is rather…provocative and the Doctor isn’t exactly the one you made the appointment with <3

— word count: 1.2k

— a/n: pulled this out of my ass after seeing nurse Kenny—almost had fem! Geto here but eh—hope y’all like; tagging @romiyaro @driaswrld (don’t ask me why)

— warnings: MDNI!!AFAB! reader x stsg; dub-con; idk unethical medicinal practice; fingering with latex gloves; spanking; threesome(?); pussy inspection; name calling (slut and Ma’am —derogatory); Nurse Geto x Reader x Doctor Gojo; orgasm denial (hinted)

“Bend over for the inspection please,” his voice was smooth, calming—everything he didn’t seem to be in the moment.

Hesitation masked you, “what?” Baffled, you stood eyes panning onto the “S. Geto” name tag that he wore.

“Bend over Ma’am, for the inspection, or would you prefer to begin with the chest first?”

A blank expression you passed, “inspection of what exactly?” You felt your eye twitch all so much, “are you even qualified for it- I- what- where’s the doctor?”

“A full body inspection Ma’am,” his smile only thinned—“that’s what you requested for, yes?”

It was true, but then- not like this, never like this.

“And as for the doctor, he’ll be joining us soon,”

He?

You were sure you made the appointment for Dr. Ieiri—not some guy who would- well, anyways, it was unethical right? No doctor, male or female, they would never allow this.

You thought.

“Bend over please,” his words repeated, and despite yourself, you let his large hands, all so strong—rough, bend you over the desk-you were sure this was not the protocol but oh and well.

It felt, sincerely, embarrassing to be sprawled across this way, his fingers almost dancing over your back and spine—pushing and pulling, massaging what felt like forever.

“You’ve got a nice form, Ma’am- you work out?” However, before a response was to fall off your lips, a sudden smack landed on your ass- a sharp gasp it elicited.

“Excuse you!?” To turn about- to rush away, your mind yearned to just pull away from the man behind you—but just the way, right after the smack your rear pushed into him all the more—just the way he casually pinned your arms behind your back—only to land another sharp slap.

It was addicting.

A small chuckle he let out, “calm down, just appreciatin’ what I see—it’s nice and firm huh? Rather fuckable, Ma’am,” his words had blood rushing to your face, warm—everything felt warm.

All the more, simultaneous squeeze and grope—Nurse Geto had you on your toes, literally.

“P-please,” a whimper you let out, “I- I can’t- lemme go,” another grin, another chuckle—“oh but you wanted this Ma’am, you requested it—and I haven’t even thoroughly begun yet.”

You weren’t sure what all he was to do, you didn’t want to find out—but fuck, you did too, at the same time.

His hand kneaded the fat of your ass, “fuck, you feel s’good—bet you’re like a slut huh?”

“No,” your words dragged, “m’not i- I don’t - I’m good I swear,” another slap, “you are, are you?”

Just then, the door swung open- so did your eyes, fear, relief and then fear again when your yes caught the figure walking in.

Sure, it was a doctor, not the one you expected is all.

A grin he adorned as well, “Hello there,” he greeted, casually sitting on the seat right across the table, across you—almost as if it was a casual Wednesday.

“Morning Doc’” the man behind you grinned as well- Dr. Gojo, you caught from his name tag.

“D-doctor I- please tell him to get off me- th-this can’t be acceptable right-” your words came to a sudden pause, his finger running by the curve of your cheek- “shh,” the same finger now pressed against your lips, “calm down Ma’am, you’re making quite the commotion.”

And just like that, a sudden quiet- help for the slap Geto landed on your ass to emphasis the silence.

Both men shared a quick smile—“there ya go, so pliant,” Geto murmured from behind you, “what seems to be the problem?” Gojo spoke the same, getting up.

“Just a little nervous, I’m not sure why though- whores like this usually just accept it-”

“I- I’m not a slut,” your words sounded defiant, both men giggled, “sure you aren’t,” Gojo grinned as his hand too, much like Geto massaged your ass.

“Wanna take away from your here?” Geto questioned, slowly moving to the front, to face you—fuck, he was handsome and maybe, just maybe like all the other whores, you’d also give in soon.

“Gonna check her inside out now,” You heard the Doctor mutter, eyes widening as your heard the snap of latex gloves over his fingers—“just precautionary Ma’am,” Geto replied from beside you.

You wanted to scream, to move—you could, it would be easy—they weren’t holding you down or such but then again, you didn’t want to.

Not even when Gojo’s fingers moved quick—lowering all the was your shame and dignity, quick in the way he lowered your panties and jeans down to your ankles.

A wolf-whistle he let out, your ears were flaming as he motioned Geto over as well, “look at that,” they murmured, you wanted to hide away—all so aware of what they were looking at.

All so aware of just how wet there slight touches that had gotten you, just how aroused you were bent over to be gazed and gawked by—just how the string of your arousal was being admired that strung from your pussy lips down to the gusset of your g-string.

“Fuck, you always wear such slutty panties Ma’am? Important question for the inspection is all,” the giggle in his voice was so evident, in Gojo’s — knowing you wouldn’t respond at the way he slowly was pumping in his finger into your gaping hole, his finger sliding in all so easy.

“Those hand prints look so cute,” the doctor groaned, hit breath fanning onto your hole as Geto moved back to caress your face once again, “told ya I was doing a good job,” Geto smiled softly, two of his fingers parting your lips.

So while Dr. Gojo teased your slit, your wet opening, Nurse Geto teased your hot mouth, making you suck on his fingers nice and slow—“girls like you always feel so good wrapping their mouths round my cock- fuck,” he hissed, as you pulled away, a string of your spit lining onto the base of the fingers.

A moan you let out too, as Gojo chose to simply press onto your pussy, pressing down on the folds and spreading wide your folds, drawing slow circles on your clit.

“Geto C’mere,” he called out quick- the Nurse grinning as he did so, “look at how she’s clenching round nothing when I do this,” you moaned aloud as he circled your clit thrice in clockwise direction and then the other way round—your hole clenching shamelessly, just as he’d predicted.

“Shit- she’s so hot,” you heard the nurse mumble from behind- “do it again,” he commended the doctor, and he did, and you clenched again too, except this time round two of his fingers that he’d shoved into your hole.

“Right?” The pair snickered behind you, Gojo smaking your ass just again as Geto pulled away, your whine falling on their ears.

“Wanna cum ma’am?” One of them asked, you weren’t sure who—a drunken “yes please,” you squeaked out- “not until the inspection is over though,” he, Gojo, you were sure giggled—“gotta know the whore truly is a whore everywhere.”

And just like that, the sound of Geto’s hand slapping your warmed up ass once again and Gojo’s latex bound fingers pumping into you, a wonderful squelching noise filled the small cramped up room.

The Doctor and the Nurse shared another smile behind you as you moaned in your ecstasy—they had to let Shoko allow them to all this another time for sure.

All of this work is original and entirely my own please refrain from copying or reposting. Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

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seobstarr · 1 month

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The failed balance between both

paringl: spiderman!Wonbin x best friend!fem reader

genre!: action, fluff, a tiney winey bit of angst,

tropes!: one sided pining, best friends to lovers, superhero reveal, the hero and the damsel

synopsis!: Before Wonbin had gotten bitten by the radioactive spider, he was on the path of becoming your, his longtime best friend, boyfriend but when he thinks too hard about the people around him and how devastating it would be if they were caught in the crossfire of his battles he swears to never expose his secret to his friends or you, that is until you run in front of a mechanical 20 foot Rhino to save him—or rather—to save spiderman.

warnings! profanity, mentions of blood, descriptive fight scene, mentions of broken body parts

songs! sunflower- post malone, swae lee, friday im in love- the cure, i wanna be yours- artic monkeys I. pink toes- childish gambino,

Park Wonbin swore that he was professional; he’d bet his life on it. But according to Sohee, he was the dumbest person the universe could’ve given superpowers to.

“This seems a little unethical…” Sohee sighed exasperatedly, evidently more than a little fed up with Wonbin and his escapades. Currently, the two best friends were sitting on top of one of the highest buildings of their university, watching out for somebody as they ate the sandwiches Wonbin's aunt had packed them.

“Are you Spiderman?” Wonbin narrowed his eyes at Sohee who rolled his own in return, taking another large bite out of the PB&J.

“Dude, you’re one of the most wanted vigilantes in Korea! You should be off helping an old lady cross the street, not looking for academic cheaters,” the blonde joked, chuckling to himself in self-satisfied amusement. Wonbin wanted to rebuke him, but he knew he couldn’t.

Wonbin had always joked around with Sohee like that, but today it rubbed him the wrong way. Jokes and jabs that usually bounced off him now stung like barbs, especially those directed at his job. Even though it wasn’t a job, it was his chosen path.

Yes, he should be out swinging through the streets of his city, but he couldn’t help but think about you; How you were doing, what you were doing, if you were safe. You were the third person who completed Wonbin’s small friend circle. The only person he was as close to as he was with Sohee.

He would admit, he probably should be helping an old lady cross the street, given he wasn’t looking for cheaters: he was waiting for you to finish class. He didn't have any more classes until tomorrow, so he had the entire rest of his day to spend and he wanted to spend it with you. Originally, he’d planned to wait by himself, but Sohee had caught him rushing out of his last class toward the School of Chemical Science building.

And that was exactly where they had ended up, on top of the Chemical Science building, waiting for your biochemistry class to be done. “You should eat something; you haven’t touched the sandwich at all,” Sohee spoke again, finishing his lunch with one last bite and eyeing the sandwich and chips Wonbin had next to him. Wonbin rolled his eyes, not daring to face Sohee’s determined gaze a second more.

“Go ahead. I got a 20, I can get something later,” he sniffed, and Sohee practically snatched the food from beside him, earning a small chuckle from Wonbin.

Once the doors opened and the students began to pile out, Wonbin almost broke his neck turning to spot you from the crowd. When his eyes finally landed on you, struggling to fit your textbooks back into your bag, his heart stopped, his cheeks flushed, and his chest tightened.

A smile crept across the corner of his lips as he stood up. “Okay, I’ll see you later!” Wonbin bowed jokingly and waved, his right heels leading off the edge of the building before he fully plummeted towards the ground.

“Wait!—“ Sohee gasped, hand reaching out towards his already falling friend. He groaned, how was he supposed to get off the roof if the door was locked and Wonbin had carried him up?

Wonbin excitedly, if not clumsily, threw his bag over his shoulders as he stumbled in front of you, a dorky big smile expressed on his face. “Aren’t you supposed to be home?” you sarcastically chuckled as you continued to walk, his footsteps matching yours as he followed.

“I’m actually here to walk you home,” you proceed to laugh more, finally fitting the book into your bag. “What a gentleman,” jokingly you tilt your head toward him. Wonbin had always felt like a big person in your life, his presence was always there in all of your memories, even if it was a small one. He was always the clumsy, dorky, funny, and unintentionally annoying Wonbin, but lately, for the past few months, he had been acting out of the ordinary, out of your ordinary.

Instead of showing up to class early or on time, he would now show up at least 20 minutes late and you’d have to write another pair of notes for him in a separate journal. He also would show up unannounced like he knew where you were at all times. To say the least, it started to get suspicious to you. “Made a new playlist,” his voice had broken you out of the thoughts that clouded your brain.

Your eyes focus on him next to you. “Shouldn’t you have been doing homework?” You smile, and his laugh floats through your body.

“Take it or leave it,” your hand grazes past his to take the earphone from him, and Wonbin swears he could feel his heart tighten from the little interaction of where your fingertips grazed over his.

As Wonbin continues to fool around, the familiar banter-filled walk envelops the both of you. Playful jokes and shared laughs punctuate the journey, making it feel like it’s been hours since you had left campus. As they stumble along, Wonbin spots a small convenience store and nudges the fir beside him with a grin. "Hey, wanna grab something, I’ll pay?" Without saying a word, you chuckle and nod, the light glinting off your eyes at the sound of something to eat, stomach grumbling.

"Sure, but only if you promise not to take forever picking out the perfect snack this time." Wonbin feigns shock, placing a hand over his heart. "I have standards okay, Y/n," his eyebrow goes into an arch as you both share a laugh and head into the store, playfully bickering about which chips and drinks to choose. The chatter flows effortlessly as you walk into the store, like an old record playing a familiar tune. Wonbin teases, holding up one of his favorite chip bags. “You know, I'm pretty sure these chips are made from top executive potato farms." You raise an eyebrow, matching his playful tone. "Oh, so you're a chip connoisseur now?"

His head nods in agreement. "There’s no way these chips can be this good, there’s just no way," his shoulders shrug back into him in disbelief sharing a laugh, you shaking your head, the atmosphere light and carefree. The convenience store's fluorescent lights cast a warm glow on your faces as you continue the lighthearted debate.

With one of the other hands carrying each side of the bag of snacks, you both continue on the pathway, drifting back into the comfortable city silence.

When you approach your house, Wonbin expects nothing less than to be welcomed in and hang out with you until nightfall.

You unlock the front door to your empty house and turn to Wonbin, ready to do what he had just thought, but he stops himself from smiling into your gaze. Quickly the goofy smile on Wonbin’s face fades down into a serious line, a sudden tension seizes him and the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up to alert him.

His hand goes back to pet them down, trying to ignore the pressing feeling, but the unsettling feeling is making him nauseous, his hands starting to sweat as he physically looks uncomfortable. “Bin?, You okay?” Worriedly you ask, sensing that something was wrong.

“Wonbin!” You shout into his ears, blocking your concern. “I’m so sorry, y/n, I forgot that my aunt needed help around the apartment tonight,” a held sigh escapes, and you nod in disappointment.

“Okay, you owe me one though, a hangout, I mean.” Suddenly, your smile gives him some sort of relief, even if it was a small dose. He nods. “Of course, I know the drill.” He’s already making his way down the front steps of your porch when his body tenses even more with the now overbearing feeling of discomfort. His eyes closed, trying to calm his annoyed nerves as his fists curl inward to form a tight ball, knuckles turning white.

The reaction his brain had become overwhelming, the thought of hundreds of people in danger replaying over in his head, as he walked down the street, away from your house and hoping to god that you were safe from the destruction he was about to overcome. His phone rings rapidly with a call from Sohee.

His nerves calm down from the recognition of his best friend's number, and he picks up the phone, beginning with a simple “What’s up dude?” before he is cut off by a panicked Sohee. “bin, where are you right now?” His tone sounded frantic, but overwhelmingly calm, like he was trying to deescalate the situation, make it seem under control. “Just left y/n's, why?” Wonbin concluded, his serious tone beckoning Wonbin to speed up the slow walk he had sported.

"You need to come to the campus, right now." The serious tone in Sohees voice was drastically different from the usual playful one he would have in his earpiece during missions. Wonbins thumb hits the red end button on his phone before aiming his wrist to the nearest street pole and swinging himself up into the air.

When Wonbin made it to the school's campus, he was met with a sight that would make a regular person's heart stop. Luckily, Wonbin is nowhere near a normal human. Through the dotted specs of his suit goggles stood a machine that could’ve reached the clouds if built a little taller.

Standing at the end of the quad area and in Wonbin’s way was one of the enemies he had made along his way to success, Rhino. A bulky almost 20-foot Machinery in the shape and build of a Rhinoceros, complete with the guy behind the machine in the dead center controlling it. Wonbin stretches, rolling his eyes at how relentless this guy was. Just because he had stopped the guy's bank robbery did not mean that he had to build a 20-foot-tall steel animal as revenge.

“Y’know..” He shouts, voice cutting through the warm hues of the afternoon, a mix of confidence and sarcasm “When I said “Get stronger before you face me” I didn’t mean add missiles to the outer of your suit,” he chuckled, the red and blue hues of his costume standing out against the shadows.

Rhino, his yellow-tinted teeth seething menacingly, growled in response. "I hate that snotty mouth of yours, Spider."

Wonbin grinned beneath his mask, allowing his agile feet to guide him closer to Rhino. "Yeah, I’ve heard that before, don’t worry," he sighed, the rhythmic thuds of his web-shooters accompanying each step.

“Okay…Let’s get this over with, yeah? I’d hate to speed things up, but I got somewhere to be, Rhino,” Wonbin mumbled a bit, his words trailing on and on as he shot one of his webs to grab the closest object near him and slung it into Rhino, making the heavy machinery falter backward. Wonbin’s eyes widened. “Maybe that wasn't the right move…” Before he could react with another snarky remark, his opponent was already charging toward him, the tip of the steel Rhino horn rapidly approaching Wonbin. His web from his left arm shot and swung him out just in time before Rhino shook into the wall Wonbin was in front of.

Wonbin prayed that Sohee was safe as he swung effortlessly through the cityscape, the rhythmic thud of Rhino's heavy steps echoing in the narrow alley. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if Sohee was off bleeding out somewhere and Wonbin wasn’t there to help him. The night air crackled with tension as the two adversaries faced each other, the glow of the city's lights casting dramatic shadows.

Rhino's massive form loomed before Wonbin, who quirked an eyebrow beneath his mask. "Missiles, Rhino? Stepping up your game," he quipped, a playful smirk on his face.

The villain grunted with anger, his horned helmet gleaming in the dim light. "Can't wait untill I put a hole through that body, maybe that'll get you to stop talking"

Wonbin chuckled, a characteristic humor lingering in the face of danger. "Good luck with that, big guy," and with one last snarky remark, the clash began, a symphony of punches, kicks, and maneuvers as Wonbin skillfully dodged Rhino's powerful attacks. He flipped and swung around, using the urban landscape to his advantage. His webs wrapped around various parts of the close-witted apartments to land blows.

"You move like a wrecking ball, Rhino! No wonder they call you that," Wonbin taunted, ducking under a powerful swing.

Rhino snarled, charging forward with renewed fury. "I'll smash you into the pavement!"

Wonbin’s spider-sense tingled as the battle intensified, warning him of Rhino's next move. He leaped up into the air, narrowly avoiding Rhino's onslaught. The sounds of impact echoed through the open city streets, followed by the misdirected shrieks of pedestrians as they paid witness to the fight.

But one scream had caught Wonbin’s attention. If he didn’t have his senses, he wouldn’t have noticed your terror-filled screams. His attention redirected itself to where you were, his panic-ridden eyes desperately scanning the crowd of sprinting people to spot you.

As his eyes dart to find you, Rhino had spotted an opening, landing one big spring full blow to Wonbins side, and from the hit, the fabric on his leg and right side of his arm is almost completely disregarded, blood sparkling down the open cut. His legs shakily tried to push himself up, but the blow was powerful enough to weaken the superhero's stamina.

“Spiderman!” The voice rendered him still, his masked eyes following the sound of your voice as you rapidly ran towards him. He had almost gasped if it wasn’t for his enemy watching for his close reaction to the stranger helping him up. The last thing he would want was for Rhino to know your connection with him

“Are you alright?!” You didn’t know why you had decided to run in the middle of the crossfire to help up the vigilante that had been swinging over your city's cold nights, but something had compelled you to recollect yourself out of your terror and help him as the hit from the mechanical rhinoceros came in contact with the hero's side.

“Oh yeah, Totally fine,” he coughs in between words as you help him up to his feet. Wonbin tried to let out a big huff of breath, but the puncture on his body didn’t let him, every time he tried to breathe the gain of pain became worse.

With a squeeze of his shoulder, he realizes who helped him up, and his panic-filled thoughts circle back to you. His head turned. “Oh my god, you shouldn’t be here. Like at all,” he squeaked.

“Shit, shit, shit—” His mumbles become incoherent as his hand holds out, web wrapping around the light post and pulling both of you into the sky. You scream, understandably, not everyone is normal about swinging for the first time; hell, Wonbin couldn’t even grasp the concept of it for the first few months of his new persona. His breath hitches at the pain surrounding his body as he utilizes his power more deeply, desperately trying to get you to safety while also desperately trying to lose Rhino.

“Oh my god, Oh my god, I’m in the air—I’m swinging through the air. Holy shit—”

“Technically I’m swinging through the air; you are flying, I guess,” he corrects amidst the tension of the situation. The air circling through your nose had made it unable to grasp the feeling of being so high. “Make a left!” you shout at him. “Not to be that kind of superhero, but I do not think I should be taking orders from a girl who risked her life to help a regenerating spider-human hybrid,” Wonbin snaps back, making another swing forward. “And I don’t think you should be flying—”

“Swinging,” Wonbin grunts. “Okay! Fine, swinging. I don't think you should be swinging through the air while you could potentially be internally bleeding.” You had made a good point, swinging through the air would only make his injury worse.

“Make a left, my friend's apartment is down on 17th Street.” He mentally nods before making a sharp left, trying to make it to 17th Street before he had weakened even more. He makes another hard left but this time pushes himself up more.

His feet land on top of the building you had ordered him to go to. “Thank god we lost him on that last turn—”

“What the hell were you thinking, Y/n?! You could’ve seriously been hurt, let alone died,” Wonbin’s voice laces itself with frustration. His first instinct was to check you for any bruises, shaking your body side to side forcibly. “Wha-What..?”

“God, I know you could be a little dense, but I didn’t think you’d be this stupid—”

“How do you know my name?” You question, ignoring his cries of worry.

“What? Don’t tell me you have whiplash from being launched in the air,” his voice fades out as he realizes what he has just done. There was a moment of silence, the cold air of the now nightfall surrounding the tense situation. “Well, I know every civilian's name,” he huffs out.

A bluff, you thought “You do?” Y/n deadpans. “Of-Of course!”

“Take your mask off,” Wonbin gulped at the command. His hand twitched in contemplation. He couldn't say no to you, even if it meant putting you in danger by telling you his secret. But if it meant keeping you safe, he wouldn’t mind telling you no.

He promised himself that nobody close to him would get hurt as long as he had these powers. When Sohee had found out, a part of him had felt disappointed in himself for letting that happen. But if you had found out, Wonbin would have to harm himself before letting you fall into the hands of endangerment.

He just couldn’t do it. “I-I can’t, at least not right now, Y/n,” his voice becomes raspy as his air shortens, the injury becoming worse with every second he sits here and rattles his brain about you.

“I’m not going to judge, nor am I going to act surprised. Just please, I need to know who you are,” you beg, the scraps and little cuts on your hands going up to feel the warmth of his mask. “I cannot put you in danger as I did—like I did my other friend,” your fingertips slide slightly under his mask to pull it up, but his covered hand stops you from doing so.

“You aren’t going to put me in harm's way; I can handle myself…”

“I can’t—”

“Wonbin, please.” It was like Wonbin’s heart had dropped, his feet felt unstable, and dizziness wandering up from the back of his head, part of him wondered if it was because of how much blood he was losing but a part of him knew it was from the name drop the way he froze up.

His larger hand softly unwraps yours as he finally lets you lift his mask and pull it off of his face, revealing the busted lip and potential black eye he had gotten from the fight. “How did you—”

“I only have two friends that care about me that much. And I know Sohee would not be the type to ruin his face battling a mechanical Rhino the size of a tennis court,” a soft smile reaches your lips as the taller stands in front of you in shock, his messy hair rubbing against his long eyelashes. “I’ve been racking my brain on why you’d been acting so strange lately. Why’d you never show up to class, or be late to the few you have attended, Why you wouldn’t go to karaoke with me and Sohee—”

“Okay, okay. I get it, a lot of questions little amount of breath,” Wonbin weakly chuckles, holding his side tightly. “But we can save those for a later date. I’m just glad that you are safe.” If he wasn’t beaten to a pulp right now, you would’ve said that this was the most handsome he had looked in the time you had known him. His hair messy, the air drying up his lips by the minute, the weak warm smile he sported while looking at you in desperation.

You step closer to him, almost too hastily, because when you softly smash your lips into his he stumbles back a bit before stabilizing himself on the rooftop's rubble. It had felt like the world had rejoiced at the sight of you two, like the air had been stripped from the gasses and the cold air from the night had become warm as both of your lips had synced together. You giggle in between pecks, an endearing sight to Wonbin’s eyes.

You never wanted that moment to end, the pure bliss of the moment filling your gut with butterflies but then your eyes spot down to his torso, where he holds it roughly with the little strength he has left.

You push him off slightly. “Oh! Let’s get you to a hospital. You could die—”

“NO! No hospital, I’m fine,” he grunts. “You are not fine—”

“I’ll be okay since I inherited spider senses, that means my body heals itself faster than the average human. I just need to rest; the longer I put pressure on it, the longer it’ll take to heal.” You nod at his explanation. You are not going to say no to his methods, considering how he’s the one with the superpowers.

His arms wrap around your waist, hugging you into him tightly. “Good thing I was your first choice when you thought about a hiding spot.” He chuckled, his apartment being 3 levels down from where you both stood.

A warm towel lays upon Wonbin’s head as he lays in his bed watching television, the remote flipping through various movies. It had been the next day, you had spent the night taking care of his wounds because

1.) You couldn’t let your newly pronounced boyfriend suffer alone with little to no treatment,

and 2.) he begged you to stay with him.

“By the way...” you trailed on from his desk chair, fidgeting with his Rubik's cube.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve been your guy in the chair,” you exclaim, huffing into a pout, and he chuckles at your personal dilemma. “I mean, I could still be your guy in the chair—”

“You will not be my guy in the chair; Sohee is that already.”

Your eyebrow cocked upward. “Oh, so Sohee knew about this before me?”

“ON ACCIDENT,” he protests. “Yeah, okay, I doubt that.”

footnotes!

notes!- hi, it's been a while lol. This was supposed to be a zb1 fic but I changed it last minute bc I miss my pookies. please let me know how you like it feedback is always appreciated!!! maybe I'll even do a part 2 with the events (Gwen death scene) of amazing Spiderman 2 who knooowss also if it says gyuvin or tricky anywhere let me know...please.

#riize #riize x reader #riize imagines #riize wonbin #wonbin #riize oneshots #angst #wonbin x reader #riize fluff #wonbin fic #riize scenarios #kpop fanfics #kpop #kpop imagines #riize wonbin x reader

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zablife · 5 months

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Ordinary People

Summary: When you meet a charming soldier in a base hospital during WWI, you become fascinated by him and quickly develop a relationship. You both agree to leave the affair in France, but what happens when fate has other plans?

Author's Note: Written for @runnning-outof-time's 4K celebration and based on a request from @kammsinn. Tysm for the amazing inspo, darl! Lyrics are from the song "Til We Meet Again."

Warnings: hint of smut, angst with a happy ending

1917

You knew it was unethical conduct that could get you fired, but somehow you set all logic aside that final evening you entered the dark-haired soldier’s hospital room. He had invited you back at sunset with a desperate plea. “I’m leaving Boulogne tomorrow, love. Stay the night with me.” His strikingly blue eyes trained on you eagerly awaiting your reply. “Please,” he added quietly, reaching for your hand. His gaze held such hope, you caved to your own desire immediately.

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze you agreed in a hushed whisper, “Yes, I’ll come back,” you said as a small smile tugged at your lips. Something about the charm of this handsome, young soldier was enough to make you disregard the risk associated with his request.

Later that evening, with heart hammering in your chest, you slipped into his room. You bit your lip to hide your excitement when you caught sight of him. He was shirtless with a bandage covering a large portion of his left shoulder, propped up in bed reading the book you’d brought him days earlier. “Y/n,” Tommy said, looking up at you with a mixture of surprise and relief. “It’s late, I wasn’t sure you’d visit," he admitted shyly, discarding his book on the bedside table.

“Told you I would,” you reminded him gently. “I had to see my favorite patient,” you teased. He broke into a warm smile, pulling you down onto his bed with his good arm. Caressing his face with your fingertips you added softly, “Did you really think I’d let you go without a proper goodbye?”

His smile faded at the mention of your imminent separation. “I don’t want to talk about that tonight,” he confided, burying his head in the crook of your neck and placing kisses to your throat.

“Then we won’t,” you promised, stroking his hair. “I can think of other things we can do,” you whispered into the shell of his ear.

Tommy didn’t miss the hint of mischief in your voice as you scooted closer to him, running a hand down his toned chest and stomach. Though he wanted you badly, his mind was restless with thoughts of his departure. He looked at you with sadness in his cool blue eyes, a chill washing over him you’d never seen before. Even when he was in pain, the man never showed weakness or cried out. He kept so much inside himself you wondered how he could possibly be human. As you took in the sight of his long, feathery lashes you were even more certain of his otherworldly nature.

His eyes traced the features of your face slowly, drinking in the sight of you as you suggested an activity he hadn’t been expecting. “Dance with me,” you asked breathlessly.

“Wasn’t anticipating that,” he joked with a huff of a laugh. Glancing around the room, he cocked an eyebrow at you as he protested, “There’s no music, love.”

“I don’t care. I want you to hold me in the lamplight,” you confided, as you brushed the hair from his forehead. “Let’s pretend we’re far away from this hospital and this war. We’ll be ordinary people on a date somewhere lovely,” you mused, willing away the growing ache of melancholy within your chest.

Noting the pleading look in your eye, he conceded with a gentle nod of his head, “Alright.”

Extending your hand, you put on your most authoritative voice. “On your feet, soldier,” you commanded playfully. The young man shuffled himself to the side of the bed and you helped him stand, the bullet wounds in his left shoulder and back still not properly healed. You allowed him a moment to find his footing, taking the opportunity to let your hair down from the oppressively tight regulation hairstyle.

Shaking your hair out with a toss of your head, you proclaimed, “That’s better. Now where were we?” you asked with a smile, before lacing your hands around his neck and beginning to hum. Tommy’s hands wandered across your midsection, finally coming to rest at the swell of your hips. He rubbed soothing circles over your uniform as he swayed with you. Closing his eyes, he savored the smell of your shampoo and the softness of your curls against his cheek as you began to sing softly.

Smile the while you kiss me sad adieu,

When the clouds roll by I'll come to you,

Then the skies will seem more blue,

Down in lovers lane my dearie

He hooked a finger under your chin to capture your attention, the remainder of the lyrics dying on your lips as you studied his earnest expression. “Tell me your name,” he begged. You made a rule early on that you wouldn’t exchange names. It was a necessary precaution as you felt yourself falling for him, but realizing the fleeting time between you.

Although you wanted to tell him that first night you sat by his bedside tending a fever, fearful he might die, you never did. You were glad of it when he woke, blinking at you with dazzling sapphire eyes and engaging you in conversation that left you riveted. There was an instant attraction which you teased forth with a nickname in place of his own, hoping that would thwart any foolhardy notions of this lasting beyond the time he was under your care.

“Soldier, you know I can’t do that,” you said, leaning your forehead against his.

“Why not? It’s not against the rules to contact you after I leave,” he persisted.

You inhaled a shaky breath as you thought of an answer he would accept without malice.

“I love you. You can’t deny that you love me too,” he urged, eyes glossy with unshed tears.

You gulped harshly at the sight of emotion from him, unsure how to proceed. Allowing your practicality to win, you hushed him as you denied his request. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you choked out, “Doesn’t matter now that you’re leaving."

“It does to me. I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted, setting his jaw sternly.

“You say that now, but when you’re back home, real life will be different. What's between us now will be like a beautiful dream, timeless and unspoiled,” you persuaded. "Don't despair, there will be others,” you said, intending to be hopeful, but falling flat in the delivery.

“Not like you,” he mumbled, a single tear cascading down his freckled cheek.

You wiped it away with your fingertips, soon replacing your hand with your lips to leave a trail of kisses from his cheek to his jawline. Allowing your head to drift lower onto his mouth, you kissed him with fervor. It was an attempt to demonstrate your feelings physically and he reciprocated immediately, tangling a large hand in your hair.

No more words were spoken between you as he pushed you onto his bed and undressed you as he’d wished to do many times before. It was under the light of a pale crescent moon and the soft glow of the oil lamp that he made love to you for the first and last time.

He savored every small sensation as he seated himself inside you, recording each moan and whimper into his brain as you arched off the bed beneath him. It was the most alive he’d been in years, feeling you writhe against him. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have this always. He quickly felt himself unraveling, impending orgasm suddenly crashing over him as he released into you without meaning to.

In the moment of passion, you clung to him, wrapping your legs around his trim waist to pull him impossibly closer. He brought his lips to yours again as you too came undone, swallowing your cries so as not to be discovered by the night nurse on duty.

The last thing he remembered was collapsing beside you and tugging you toward his chest insistently. The drumming of his heartbeat against his ribs eventually subduing and your gentle breathing lulling him into a peaceful slumber. In the morning, he would wake to an empty bed and his few possessions lovingly packed by the door in anticipation of his departure. It was only then that he forced himself to accept the fact that he would never see you again.

——————————————————————

1922

“Why are we here, Tom?” Arthur grumbled as he downed another drink.

“There are influential families at this party who can help us,” Tommy grimaced as he downed his whisky in one gulp.

Arthur nudged him as he noticed a woman staring from across the room. “Would she belong to one of those families?” he asked, wondering if his brother had ulterior motives.

Tommy’s eyes scanned the room until he found the lady Arthur had pointed out. The hair was different, but your smile remained the same after all these years. He would have felt the warmth of it from hundreds of miles away.

“You alright, brother?” Arthur asked.

“M fine,” Tommy mumbled, crossing the room to the woman he’d dreamt about since he left France.

As he approached the small group where you stood, his palms began to sweat. He wasn’t sure what he might say after all this time, but soon found his mouth opening in a formal greeting nonetheless.

You instantly beamed back at the sight of a familiar face. “Hello, soldier,” you greeted him congenially.

Tommy was taken aback at the familiar salutation you’d given him each morning back in France. Time stood still as he reached for your hand and kissed it gently. “You remembered,” he mumbled.

“I could never forget you,” you replied. It was true that you hadn’t gone a day without thinking of him in the five years since you left his bed that misty November morning. In a hushed voice you added, "There have been many times I wished to talk to you and discuss the events of the day as we used to. It was comforting to me."

Tommy looked away as he felt himself overcome with emotion, remembering how you insisted on remaining a stranger to him. “What are you playing at?” he asked, venom seeping into his voice at the thought of looking weak once more, the way he had revealed himself that last night when he begged to know your name.

You furrowed your brow in confusion at his sudden anger, stuttering in return “N-nothing. I only wanted you to know—“

But he cut you off before you could finish. “To know that I was a fool? I was to think you ever cared for me,” he asserted.

“That’s not true,” you said shaking your head fiercely and feeling your large diamond earrings collide with your neck.

Tommy’s patience was wearing thin now and he contemplated excusing himself from the party altogether until you reached for his arm. Clutching at the expensive material of his tuxedo with your fingertips, you looked into his eyes, your own brimming with tears as you confessed, “I loved you too. I’m sorry I couldn't bring myself to say it then." You shifted your weight uncomfortably as you asked, "Can we start anew?”

He softened at your touch and your admission, a feeling of vindication rushing through his blood. Placing a hand over yours he answered without thinking of his pride, “Yes, I’d like nothing more. Shall we begin with an introduction?” he asked hopefully.

You nodded as you offered the thing he'd wanted most. "Y/n Y/l/n," you replied, holding his gaze. "And you are?"

"Thomas Shelby," he said, standing a bit straighter as he introduced himself. "Now that we've gotten that out of the way, let me take you somewhere tonight. We'll start over, as you said," he eagerly began.

“It’s not that easy,” you interjected, biting your lip in concern. “I have a new life now that I can't leave at a moment's notice,” you warned him.

He dropped his hand from you instantly, head turning to look around the room as he asked, “You have someone?”

“Yes,” you hesitantly admitted, watching his jaw clench in frustration.

Placing your hand to his cheek you calmed him with a soothing tone you’d used with wounded men in France. “It’s not like that….not what you’re thinking.”

Tommy jerked away suddenly, biting down hard on his lower lip. “Who is he?” his low voice rumbled with a hint of agression.

You sighed, knowing you had to admit it now before you lost your courage. “His name is William,” you rushed out in a single breath.

“I don’t understand why you’re telling me this,” Tommy admitted.

“It’s time you knew,” you said with a gentle nod.

“Knew what?” he pressed, looking at you with a mix of confusion and concern.

“That you have a son,” you whispered, looking at him with tears spilling past your lashes. “I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t even know your name.” You hid your face in your hand, overcome with the unburdening of your soul. You’d cried yourself to sleep so many nights wishing you hadn't foolishly insisted on keeping your identities concealed. It had been a harsh few years, relying solely on the generosity of your wealthy parents, but suffering their hurtful opinions on the matter.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Tommy consoled you, cradling you into his strong arms and allowing you to cry into his lapels.

“You don’t hate me?” you sniffed, looking up at him.

“Never…I only hated being apart from you,” he confessed. “Now that I’ve found you, I’ll never let you go,” he swore, raising your chin toward him for a slow, sensual kiss that made your knees buckle.

“You mean that?” you asked with a shuddering breath.

“Of course I do. I only ask one favor first,” he said as he caressed the top of your head lightly.

“What’s that?” you asked with furrowed brow.

“Dance with me,” he said with a wide smile. “Like we did all those years ago.”

“Like ordinary people,” you added, remembering your last night swaying beneath the window of his hospital room.

“Just two ordinary people who found each other again under extraordinary circumstances,” he said, leading you onto the dance floor.

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

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#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x y/n #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby #cillian Murphy

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ikayblythe · 6 months

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live by the cross.

die by the cross.

alts and nerd shit under the cut! ⬇️

I was experimenting with iterator designs. Again. And settled on going full bug! Stylized anthro bugs and robots tend to look similar, so why not blend the two? Here, you can see Sliver of Straw's endoskeleton underneath her thin layer of synthetic flesh. This whole thing was just gonna be some more iterator specbio diagrams but I had Fun too.

The "endoskeleton" (though it's just an exoskeleton with skin thrown over it) is what holds the puppet's guts and all, the darker bits being more flexible parts like cartilage as opposed to full chitin.

In my rw headcanon iterator puppets and scavs come from the same group of purposed organisms ("arthrohomuncularia") that are heavily arthropod-based. Here I tried comprehending insect mouthparts and incorporating them into iterators. In iterator puppets the mouth is completely fused, forming the main faceplate. The puppets are born with large eyes on the side of the face that get surgically removed and replaced with the "headsets" and antennae they normally have. Meanwhile the three tiny ocelli have been repurposed into the main eyes (though the third is often removed—however LttM's puppet retains the third eye as decoration!) with the eyes being supported by orbital rings. Long story short, iterators are bug pugs and their production is just as unethical!

#digital art #artwork #art #rain world #artists on tumblr #digital illustration #original art #rainworld #rw #rain world fanart #rw iterator #sliver of straw #specbio #xenobiology #i guess #worldbuilding #maybe??

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is-the-snake-video-cute · 6 months

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I've already asked this to a trusted Herp Friend:tm: (and got Many answers from a few others as well) but i wanted to ask you too.

Myself and a friend were arguing(kinda? Debating more like tbh) the ethics of defanging a snake (non-venomous or venomous) I think it's kinda cruel and also unnecessary my friend thinks it's fine bc the snake can't feel it and according to them it has no negative affect on the snake.

So what's your opinion/belied on this situation? I want to ask you bc I'd like to hear from someone who's been handling snakes a lot longer than me.

I believe it's always, always unethical. I've worked with snakes who have had venomoid surgeries (never by any facility I've worked with, they were always rescues) and those poor snakes are heartbreaking.

Venomoid surgeries, intended to render a venomous snake non-venomous, are so cruel that any decent, ethical vet will refuse to perform them. They can take different forms, including partial or complete removal of fangs, venom ducts, and venom glands.

The big issues here are twofold.

It is impossible to ever surgically render a snake non-venomous. All those components can grow back or remain semi-functional after surgery. I can't overstate this. These surgeries are useless.

Those are integral, massive components of the snake's face and jaws. Venom glands, compressor muscles, and ducts take up a lot of real estate in a venomous snake's face.

Snakes who have had venomoid surgeries often have to live with a lot of chronic pain in their faces. They have trouble opening their mouths and eating. I've met some who will drool venom. At my lab we had to make the hard choice to euthanize one of our ambassador rattlers a few months ago - she had undergone a venomoid surgery to remove her venom ducts and the compressor muscles were starting to atrophy and cause her a lot of pain. Botched surgeries are common (largely because, again, no decent vet will perform these), and that adds a whole additional host of complications.

I feel particularly strongly about this just because I know so many snakes who are suffering as a direct result of these surgeries, but yeah. Always unethical, I consider them animal abuse.

#not a rating #venomous snakes #animal abuse #snake anatomy

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foone · 1 year

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So here's the thing about AI art, and why it seems to be connected to a bunch of unethical scumbags despite being an ethically neutral technology on its own. After the readmore, cause long. Tl;dr: capitalism

The problem is competition. More generally, the problem is capitalism.

So the kind of AI art we're seeing these days is based on something called "deep learning", a type of machine learning based on neural networks. How they work exactly isn't important, but one aspect in general is: they have to be trained.

The way it works is that if you want your AI to be able to generate X, you have to be able to train it on a lot of X. The more, the better. It gets better and better at generating something the more it has seen it. Too small a training dataset and it will do a bad job of generating it.

So you need to feed your hungry AI as much as you can. Now, say you've got two AI projects starting up:

Project A wants to do this ethically. They generate their own content to train the AI on, and they seek out datasets that allow them to be used in AI training systems. They avoid misusing any public data that doesn't explicitly give consent for the data to be used for AI training.

Meanwhile, Project B has no interest in the ethics of what they're doing, so long as it makes them money. So they don't shy away from scraping entire websites of user-submitted content and stuffing it into their AI. DeviantArt, Flickr, Tumblr? It's all the same to them. Shove it in!

Now let's fast forward a couple months of these two projects doing this. They both go to demo their project to potential investors and the public art large.

Which one do you think has a better-trained AI? the one with the smaller, ethically-obtained dataset? Or the one with the much larger dataset that they "found" somewhere after it fell off a truck?

It's gonna be the second one, every time. So they get the money, they get the attention, they get to keep growing as more and more data gets stuffed into it.

And this has a follow-on effect: we've just pre-selected AI projects for being run by amoral bastards, remember. So when someone is like "hey can we use this AI to make NFTs?" or "Hey can your AI help us detect illegal immigrants by scanning Facebook selfies?", of course they're gonna say "yeah, if you pay us enough".

So while the technology is not, in itself, immoral or unethical, the situations around how it gets used in capitalism definitely are. That external influence heavily affects how it gets used, and who "wins" in this field. And it won't be the good guys.

An important follow-up: this is focusing on the production side of AI, but obviously even if you had an AI art generator trained on entirely ethically sourced data, it could still be used unethically: it could put artists out of work, by replacing their labor with cheaper machine labor. Again, this is not a problem of the technology itself: it's a problem of capitalism. If artists weren't competing to survive, the existence of cheap AI art would not be a threat.

I just feel it's important to point this out, because I sometimes see people defending the existence of AI Art from a sort of abstract perspective. Yes, if you separate it completely from the society we live in, it's a neutral or even good technology. Unfortunately, we still live in a world ruled by capitalism, and it only makes sense to analyze AI Art from a perspective of having to continue to live in capitalism alongside it.

If you want ideologically pure AI Art, feel free to rise up, lose your chains, overthrow the bourgeoisie, and all that. But it's naive to defend it as just a neutral technology like any other when it's being wielded in capitalism; ie overwhelmingly negatively in impact.

#Capitalism #The ethics of AI art

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hood-ex · 6 months

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Wow, okay, I thought it was going to turn out that Zur was largely in control of Bruce's actions during Gotham War hence the whole Jason thing, but both Bruce and Zur confirmed Bruce's actions weren't Zur's doing.

DC cannot make him do something so incredibly unethical and then try to pass him off as this loving father who only wants what's best for Jason. I mean, sure, the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and Bruce obviously views what he did as an act of love, but if you play a card like that, you damn well better show the repercussions of it, which would be Jason cutting ties with Bruce completely and forever.

But nooo. You know what they made Jason do after all this? Offer Bruce emotional support after Selina "died." Get bent. They should've had Jason walk over to the pit looking distressed over Selina's fall, had Bruce try to put his hand on Jason's shoulder, and then had Jason smack Bruce's hand off with a, "Don't you ever touch me again you piece of shit."

Like fuck! Where's the lingering feeling of betrayal?! The lack of trust?! Don't give me this "you did a terrible thing to me, and I haven't had any time to process it, but I still care about you and love you, so I'm here for you" type of bullshit. Siiigh. I'm so tired.

#forget that post i made when batman 138 came out ASDLKAJ i thought this was gonna go in a very different direction #but uhh nope. they just decided to make bruce take away jason's agency and make it an actual choice bruce made himself #instead of y'know not character assassinating bruce entirely by passing the blame to zur #i mean idk dick babs and jason seem to think zur has infected bruce's brain and this is the result of that #so idk if they're gonna do some weird thing in the future where they do end up blaming zur for all of this #and it turns out that zur was indeed poisoning bruce all along #but uhh that's definitely not the conclusion we got at the end of this dumbass arc #Bruce Wayne #Jason Todd #Batman/Catwoman: The Gotham War: Scorched Earth

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bignosebaby · 7 months

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Good news for animals in captivity in Canada!

The Jane Goodall act was introduced to the Canadian senate originally in 2020 and again in 2022. It represents some of the strongest legislation for animal protection in the world for species and contains new legal protections for captive big cats, bears, wolves, seals, sea lions, walruses, certain primates, and dangerous reptiles, such as crocodiles and giant pythons. If it passes, the bill will:

Phase out elephant captivity in Canada. Elephants are complex and intelligent animals that require large social groups and often do poorly in captivity, so this would mean an effective end to the practice nation wide.

Ban new captivity at roadside zoos for big cats, bears, wolves, seals, sea lions, walruses, certain primates, and dangerous reptiles. No more private owners profiting off of wild animals kept in unethical conditions!

Require permits for individuals and organizations to acquire or breed big cats and other species.

Create a new designation for Jane Goodall Act ‘animal care organizations,’ including zoos, aquariums and sanctuaries. An effective form of accreditation to make it easier to support appropriate care for captive animals.

It would also support action against wildlife trafficking and improving the conditions of animals currently in captivity. Read more about the act here.

As of June 8, 2023 the bill has passed its first vote in the Senate.

#zoos #jane goodall #cdnpoli #animal welfare #animals #good news #canadian politics

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mellowwillowy · 8 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐦 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲

sc: The Lunacy of Duke Venomania's Manga

The late Empress did not change her stoic face, her eyes merely glanced at his stiff body. This was the sign of the end of his tyranny and the beginning of her son's tyranny.

For 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 I , II , III

Warnings: Unknown and Unaware Incestcual Relationship, Attempted Murder on Reader, Mental, Physical, and Power Abuse. This is dedicated to the fic's clarity. Only read this after you finish the fics(If you are ready to cry that is).

This family is cursed, its bloodline is nothing but filled with filth and sin, all flowing in fheir body as well. This is the confession written by the late Empress to that child, the embodiment of karmic debt.

That child was born out of a heinous act of the late Emperor, the crown prince's wife was assaulted by him. She cried to me, begging for a miracle to happen, to take the baby in her womb away. She tried aborting it but was faced will countless failures as was evidently shown by her enlarged stomach.

Truth be told, I was grateful for the fact that it was her who bore it and not me. Is it a sin for me to think like this? I am merely praising God for his benevolence to me. Had it been me in her position, what would be left out of me?

The baby was born under the sky that was blanketed by stars as though all deities were laughing at its state. Not only was it an embodiment of guilt and shame, its condition was pitiful.

Am I in the wrong for praising God that my sons were born healthy and normal without any anomalies? Perhaps God started to doubt me and punish me...

The mother of that child was unhinged. It wasn't a rare sight for me to see her crying along with the baby. It wasn't rare to see its father glaring at the baby with hatred and grudge.

As time passed, the baby grew up into a toddler. One day, it crawled to me with these large eyes blanketed with the stars I saw that day on the day of their birth. It smiled at me warmly. It made me feel ashamed of how I was grateful for my fate. It made me feel guilty. With trembling hands, I embraced it. The child laughed at me and its hands flapped to my side.

Have they even been embraced by their parents?

That didn't matter. What matters is that I saw her try to murder her own child years later. I saw it. I saw it. I saw it. The pillow was placed on top of her child's face, and the child stayed still. Dead?

... if the child died... and if her crime was discovered... she would be banished... and the crown prince would be devastated and decided to descend from the throne...

That way my husband would be the next Emperor with my son, Erickson, standing next in line!

God, please forgive me for I have sinned all this time.

Forgive me for being greedy.

-- 01

In the end, I remembered how the child looked at me. It was looking at me as though I was their mother...

I yelled for the guards and they immediately separated the mother from the child. Had I not been fast with my voice and thought, I would have never been able to see the stars in their eyes.

She cursed me for doing so. My brother-in-law was not happy with me but who was I but if not the mother of this nation? Even if I wasn't the mother of this nation, I was still the mother this child wished they could have. Had I been consumed with greed completely, I would have never been able to live without guilt placed on my shoulders. The bruises and cuts on the child were merciless, inhumane.

It took 3 years for me to be able to take them into my care. It took 3 years for my brother-in-law to back away from the position. It took 3 years for me to finally be able to embrace that child again.

I introduced them to my sons, Erickson was the first to talk to them although his question was rather unethical.

"Mother! Are they a girl or a boy?"

Nonetheless, they were not hurt by that question. It made me think, that if I couldn't take them in as my child, then they would become my lady-in-waiting. Starting then, I started dressing them up in dresses, growing their hair, and teaching them the etiquette of a lady. They were smart enough to understand everything in a short time, allowing me to let them study what Erickson and Noel had been studying.

The three grew up together, they were going along with each other whims. Noel who had always been quiet once eventually opened up to them while Erickson would always try to monopolize their attention.

Erickson, there's something wrong with him ever since he was little. He didn't have the mind of children around his age, he matured too early. Noel, on the other hand, was a bit slow in his studies as he showed more passion for martial arts.

-- 02

Erickson was crowned shortly after he reached his teenage years, I am glad Noel did not show any sign of envy toward his brother. The Emperor did not oppose the idea of Noel being a knight as well.

Then, a prophet came to visit us, Her figure was hooded by a cloak but it appeared that she was a little girl of 12-year-old.

'One of your sons shall be of a priest,' she said, 'and that man would be the downfall of this nation.'

That man. Who exactly was this 'that man?' Brother-in-law was out of this nation, his whereabouts unknown.

-- ripped

Noel came to me, he insisted on his plan of marrying that child. God, what am I capable of? To tell them this bitter truth? I should have noticed how blushes crept through my son's ears whenever he was around that child. What should I do? He threatened me. He threatened me with his own life and that child's life.

'I don't have the heart to kill my family but I am well capable enough to bring who I love to my grave.'

Even if I told him the truth, he would not falter, I can see that. Because he is my son. Right? This is for his own happiness, right? What am I doing wrong God? If I ever told him that one truth, what would he do? I doubt he would just let things be. I truly doubt that's the case. Because he is capable of bringing someone he loves to his grave if he couldn't have them in this life. I don't want the two of them to die, God, am I doing this right?

Please forgive your Mother for doing this, Noel, Erickson. Mother couldn't decide what's best for everyone. Mother wants Noel to live. Mother did not realize that Noel was feeling lonely this whole time.

And I did not know Erickson was too.

'Mother, I'll be courting them as the next Empress.'

Erickson had always been the child that took what Noel had. Everything Noel had will be monopolized into, including his honor as a knight and his fiancee.

I opposed it of course, not only was it because of the filth in their blood, but they were Noel's fiancee and were incapable of bearing children.

'Mother, I don't care about my descendants. Noel could just continue it for me.'

He had no interest in looking for concubines, he was serious about them. Why? Didn't Erickson want them only because they are Noel's bethroed?

I couldn't do anything. I can't do anything. The person you two love is your Royal Uncle; how am I supposed to reveal that truth without having one of them spilling bloodshed?

I don't know. Perhaps this is my punishment. Perhaps I have always been sinful all along, feigning ignorance and self-justification, this is my punishment.

In the end, I remain selfish. I will bring this truth to the grave with me, this way everyone will be spared this unnecessary bloodshed. Noel was sent away while Erickson wedded that child.

Yes, this way, no unnecessary bloodshed would happen even though Noel had to lose his footing, literally.

-- ripped

...saw him here. There was blood all over him, with an eerie smile, he held my hands in place and said,

'Mother, I am the child of God. I am his son, and I will bring down any form of injustice.'

I trembled at his words, this form of injustice he was talking about was Erickson. In the end, he didn't kill me. My whole room was searched for something and I was locked away in the Twin Tower.

What would happen if I told them the truth now? Would it even matter?

I understand now, what I should do.

I will lock this truth into the Pandora's box so that the child won't have to feel disgusted and bathed in guilt.

I will follow him even after my death. I will follow them all.

I'm writing these all as a form of confession to the Church. May God forgive me, for I have sinned even until my last breat-

--Blood splatters

#yandere male #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere works #yandere writing #reader insert #x reader #oc #x gn reader #Erickson the Chosen #Noel the Unbent

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lionizingheathen · 1 year

Note

jealous fwb sirius but what about jealous fwb james???

Warnings: Smut, multiple orgasms, spanking, choking, pet names, degredation, biting, hickies, unprotected sex, breeding kink

"You are such a sight for sore eyes, do you know that? Seriously, you make the whole room brighten whenever you walk into it, it's like a gift." Sirius sighed, resting his head on your shoulder. You smiled, resting yours against his as you felt him curl into you a bit on the couch. Something was bothering him, that was clear.

"Thanks, Black." You ran your fingers through his hair, thinking before you spoke next. "I don't feel like that's exactly true, I feel like I'd need to be some kind of god to lighten the mood recently, but I take that as a compliment." You murmured, trying to look away from James's probing gaze. His grip on his cup was firm and he looked jealous... which was hilarious.

"Can I get you a drink?" Sirius asked. No. You didn't want to be drunk, you wanted to have your wits about you, even if you were the only one. During times like this, you found it best to know what was going on.

"I'm not drinking tonight, just don't feel like it." You explained, and Sirius nodded, frowning slightly.

"Hm. I can respect that." He pushed off of you and patted your leg, giving you a large smile. "Well, then I'll be right back, don't go to far now, sunshine." He said, and you nodded. You'd probably be sitting here all night, until you had to help the girls clean up the flat.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Sirius was gone, and a moment later you felt someone else standing beside you, and turned to see James sitting on the arm of the couch, not looking at you as he spoke.

"Were you just flirting with Sirius?" You wrinkled your nose at James, shaking your head. Flirting with Sirius would be like flirting with your own brother, it was completely unethical, and you weren't interested.

"What? Gross, fuck no. He was just telling me that he feels that I lighten the mood of the room." You explained, and James looked at you, thinly veiled frustration in his eyes.

"So he was flirting with you." No. That also wasn't right.

"I have absolutely no way of knowing that, I'm not in his brain, Jamie." But riling him up could end with a fun night. "And even if he were, would it really matter?" You asked with a coy smile, and James's expression faultered for a moment. He clearly hadn't been expecting a challenge.

"Huh?" He asked, and you chuckled, patting his hand. This was also a good time to remind him of his place.

"We're friends, James. That's why we're doing what we're doing, we're friends. Meaning I can flirt with whoever I want to, so why are you acting like you're my boyfriend. We're just fucking. No feelings, remember?" You asked, and he nodded, blinking at you. Sometimes he seemed to forget... Motherfucker was hardwired for love.

"I just... You look nice tonight, and I guess it sort of made my brain fuck up." He explained, and you snorted. That was a strangely eloquent way of saying 'I'm really fucking horny', but you'd take it.

"Yeah, I'll say. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt this time, but if you come at me as though I'm cheating on you again, I will cut this off so quickly that you'll forget if there were ever truly strings." You explained, and James chewed on his lip, looking almost guilty. That hadn't been your intention, but you did need him to stop acting like he was your boyfriend, you didn't want a boyfriend.

"Right... I'm gonna go find Remus." James said, and you nodded. That was probably a really good idea.

"Good. Go." Sirius was back a moment later, pressing a glass of water into your hand with a confused look.

"What was that about?" He asked, glancing at James's retreating frame. You shrugged, not sure of what to say you. You weren't going to tell him the truth, because you and James had both decided it would be best if no one knew.

"Nothing, he just... I drank the rest of his tea this morning when I was over at his place for something, he was reminding me that I need to buy more because it was the nice stuff that his mother always gets him at Christmas." You lied, and Sirius nodded, his smile laced with nostalgia.

"Oh, that is good shit. I've had it, totally addicting." He sighed. Good, at least that was a believable lie.

"Right." You grabbed his hand. "Do you wanna go somewhere more quiet? Maybe talk?" You asked, and Sirius shrugged, still staring like a puppy at Remus. Merlin, you needed to get him to talk to you, he was better than this.

"Sure, I wouldn't be opposed to that." He said, and you stood up, pulling him along by his arm. Hard to make sure that he had his head on straight when he was around a million people.

"Cool." Once you were in your room, Sirius was silent, looking at everything like he didn't know how to carry on a conversation.

"So... the war, huh?" He asked, shifting around on his feet. He hadn't been in your room since you'd moved in with the girls, he was probably feeling uncomfortable. You chuckled and patted the bed beside you.

"Sirius, we've been friends for a long time, you can't talk to me like you're talking to a random order member." You reminded him, and he sighed, his expression breaking as he sat down on the bed.

"Fine." He laid down, resting his head on your lap as he spoke. "I feel like Remus doesn't feel the same way about me that I feel about him." He said, and you couldn't help the laugh that came out of you, it was practically involuntary.

"Are you joking? That boy is fucking crazy about you, Black. Pretty sure I've never seen anyone that smitten in my life." You murmured, running your fingers through his hair as he looked up at you, forlorn.

"Then why hasn't he asked me to be his boyfriend yet? I'd say yes." Sirius sighed, and you gave him a look. Why were the pretty ones always so dramatic?

"Well... have you asked him?" You asked, and Sirius looked at you like you were insane. Alright, that was a way to respond to a valid question.

"What? No. I initated the first kiss, therefore the ball is entirely in his court." He explained, and you rolled your eyes. Stupid fucking courting rules, who the hell cared anymore?

"Okay, but you're also in a place where you could take things to the next level, why not do that?" You asked, and Sirius was quiet for a moment, drumming his fingers on his stomach before he spoke.

"I'm scared of rejection, this is hardly news." He gave you a weak sort of smile. "Abandonment issues, I am their poster child." Yeah. His childhood had done a number on him, so that wasn't a lie.

"That's... not untrue. But Remus won't leave you, Black. He loves you, you know it." You reminded him, and again, Sirius was quiet, like he didn't know what to say.

"... Maybe I can talk to him tonight." He reasoned, and you nodded. That sounded good, talking to him tonight sounded good. There could come a time very soon that they would never have the chance to talk again if either of them died.

"You should. Show you've got some balls, Sirius." You encouraged, giving him a half smile. He reached up and smacked your arm, glaring at you. Okay, he could be like that but nothing you had said was inherently offensive, so you weren't really going to care.

"Oi!"

"I'm being encouraging." You said, and Sirius shook his head, giving you a dazzling smile.

"You're being a wanker." He clarified, and you rolled your eyes, pushing his head off your lap.

"Go. Before you lose your nerve, prettyboy." You said, and he grinned, standing up before he shook out his hair and checked himself in your mirror. He looked good, Sirius was hardwired to look beautiful, there was never any reason to check.

"Right..." He paused at the door. "You pulled me in here, is there someting you wanted to talk about?" He asked, and you shook your head. Partly, this was to give James the distance to stop being weird, and it was partly becasue you couldn't read Sirius's mind and you needed to know what was bothering him.

"Oh, no. I just needed to get some space between me and all that noise. Thanks." You said, standing up off the bed as you crossed your arms across your chest. he didn't believe, you that was clear.

"Of course. I'm always here, Y/N." He promised, and you nodded. You knew that.

"I know." As Sirius turned to leave, he ran right into James, who was waiting in the doorway.

"Oh, hey James." Sirius said, and James gave him a bright, but empty smile. Alright...

"Hey." he called, and then quickly closed and locked the door behind him, walking over to you, backing you against the desk as he gripped your arms, saying nothing. Fucking weird.

"What, Jamie?" You asked, and he gripped your arm tigheter, pulling you closer.

"Were you fucking Sirius?" James asked, and you grimaced at the thought of that, shaking your head. Fucking ew.

"No! What the hell is this obsession? I was helping him figure out how he's gonna ask Remus out." You sighed, and James seemed to deflate, his grip on your arm releasing.

"... Right."

"What's wrong? What's going on?" You asked, and James sighed, taking his glasses off as he rubbed at his eyes. Something was bothering him, that was more than clear but he needed to act like a fucking adult about it.

"I need to fuck you." James muttered, giving you a darkened look. You raised your eyebrow, smirking as you leaned against your bedroom wall. Everyone you two knew, all of your friends were mere feet away, and all James could think about was fucking you... that was one hell of an ego boost.

"Right now?" You asked, and he nodded, walking closer to you, pressing you into the wall with a thigh between your legs, his lips hovering inches from yours.

"Yeah. Right now. I need it, and I locked the door on my way in." The kiss that followed was messy, all teeth and tongue as you groped all over your body. You tugged at his hair, groaning into his mouth as you tried to match his energy. He pulled away after a moment and smirked, pulling you from the wall to your desk, turning you away from him. "Bend over." He instructed, and you bit back a smile, doing exactly as he asked.

"Yes sir."

"Mmm... fuck. Was this for me?" James asked, his fingers brushing over your bare cunt, making you jump. It was, but he didn't need that boost right now, he was already flying high enough all on his own.

"It was for whoever I was fucking tonight... Statistically, that would be you." You reminded him, but he didn't seem to care much for the math side of it today.

"God, you're so wet..." Your breath hitched at the tone of his voice, making you shiver.

"You're kinda hot when you're a dick, Potter." You said, and this made him laugh as he bit down your spine, sucking in a dark mark at the base of it. Fuck.

"And you're kinda hot when you're a slut, so I guess that works out." He said, and you let out a shocked laugh. You didn't expect him to say that. He kicked your legs further apart, gripping onto your hips.

"What are you-." He thrust into you quickly, making your head drop on the desk as your knees gave in, He lifted you back up, slamming your hips against him as he set a brutal pace. "Ohmygod." You gasped, and James moaned behind you, digging his nails into your hips.

"Fuck, it's been too long..." He sucked a mark into your shoulder. "All my marks have faded, gotta give you new ones, hm? Let people know I'm here." he mumbled, and you gritted your teeth, trying to distract from the pleasure he was giving you enough to speak.

"You don't own me-." He spanked your ass hard.

"Yeah, but I rent you... not letting people get in on my time with this fucking perfect cunt." He grunted, pulling hard at your hair. You moaned, resting your head against the wood of the desk as you dug your nails on the grains of wood.

"Fuck, Jamie... Harder." You cried, and James chuckled, spanking your ass, making you jump.

"I need to put a fucking muzzle on you... even if you don't mean it, you've got every man in the room at your fucking feet, wanting to take the place I'm in right now." He bit down hard on your shoulder, making you cry out. "But it's my fucking place, and they won't have it." He growled, and you rolled yoeur eyes. Jesus Christ.

"I can fuck whoever I want-." He picked you up off the desk, shoving you onto the bed before he thrust into you once again, letting out near-feral grunts in your ear.

"Shut up, just shut up, fucking hell! It's like you want me to be pissed off." This had to be what heaven felt like - being fucked to death by James Potter. "Gonna make you limp out of here. Gonna make it fucking clear what we were doing in here." He grunted, and his pace increased impossibly, making you let out a high whine.

"Oh my god... Fuck, Jamie!" You groaned, and James clapped a hand over mouth for a moment, pressing his chest flush with your back.

"Everyone's gonna hear you... they're gonna know what a fucking cock drunk whore you can be when you wanna be, is that what you want? Want people to know how easily you give that cunt up? Fucking slut." He muttered in yoru ear, and you nodded. You didn't mind who heard you, at least they knew that you were being fucked well.

"Yes, yes, yes!" You felt like you were melting. "Oh my god, this is so fucking good..." You groaned, and he seemed to agree, if the hand that had fallen to your throat was telling you anything.

"I'm gonna fucking ruin you, you know. Gonna make sure this cunt is wrecked for any other poor soul who thinks they can make you scream like I do." He grunted, tightening his hand as he leaned forward again.

"Please, please Jamie. God, make me feel it!" You cried, digging your nails into the sheets in front of you as he fucked into you harder, letting out heavy pants. God he sounded so fucking hot.

"Good girl..." That did it.

"Jamie... I'm... I'm so close..." You cried, your breath ragged in your chest. He let out a humorless chuckle.

"Already? God, you're such a fucking whore... always so needy for my cock, but you can never take it for very long, can you? Probably because you're always thinking about jumping to someone else's, huh? Dreaming about letting everyone else run you through..." He grunted, and you pouted, shaking your head. Though you really wouldn't be opposed...

"No-."

"Just cum, babe. Don't fucking talk back." He snapped, and that did it, it sent you right over the edge. You let out a high moan, and James shoved your face into the mattress, pulling your hips up to fuck into you harder.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He wasn't letting up, not even after you collapsed onto the bed, he just pulled your head up by your hair and kept going, getting you close to the edge again as you whimpered. "James, please, I'm so sensitive-." He slapped your ass hard, making you help before he pulled you up, wrapping his hand around your throat as he pressed himself against you, speaking into your ear.

"And you'll take my cock until I cum inside you, so shut up." He snapped, before pushing you back and resuming his earlier pace. You felt like you were on cloud fucking nine, this was the James you'd been trying to get since the start.

"Fuck, I love this side of you." You sighed, and he slowed his pace a bit, and you could tell he was probably blushing from the way that he drummed his fingers on your hips.

"Really?" Bashfulness could wait.

"Really. Now use me, Potter. Make me sorry for flirting with someone else right in front of you." He paused inside of you, making you turn your head back to him in annoyance. Now was not the time to stop.

"Were you?" No, but currently the truth didn't matter, you just wanted him to fuck you senseless, and he'd been doing a pretty good job of that up until right now.

"Does it matter? I want your cock to fucking ruin me, are we clear?" You asked, and James's smirk turned dangerous before he shoved your face back against the mattress, reaching around to roughly squeeze one of your breasts.

"Oh, I'll ruin you, baby." He murmured, and his pace was unforgiving. You grinned as you chewed on yoru lip, loving the pleasant burn that being stuck at his whim gave you.

"Harder! Harder!" You begged, and James leaned down, biting onto your shoulder.

"Shut up." He hissed, and your lip trembled. You were so close. So close again.

"Jamie! Jamie, please!" You cried, feeling like your head was spinning as you arched your ass back and into him, hearing him chuckle as he groped across your body, his speed increasing. You felt one of his hands between your thighs, rubbing roughly at your clit and you gasped, trying to squirm away. Too much.. Fuck, it was all too much

"Good girl, take it all... take it all... you're such a fucking slut just take my fucking cock, make me feel good." He grunted, pinching your clit once, making you jump as you felt yourself nearing the edge again.

"So good... So good." You chanted, feeling your breath get pushed out of you at the end of each sentence.

"God, you're so fucking noisy." He sighed, and you trembled over the edge again, feeling every single bit of his stimulation as he continued to rub quickly at your clit, pushing you clear into another one.

"Cumming again! Fuck, Jamie.... Oh god!" You cried, feeling yourself shake into the bed as you bit onto the blanket, the heat enveloping you as you felt him continue his pace, punishing and fast... Fuck, it felt like you were on fire, but you didn't ever want him to stop.

"Good girl..." He was faultering. Finally. "God, I'm so close." He moaned, and you nodded. Yes. You wanted him to cum inside you, to make sure that when you limped back out to that party, there was a sign that he'd been there... even if only you two knew.

"Cum inside me! Please, Jamie!" You begged, and James grunted, thrusting hard inside of you, quickly and with far less rhythm. He was getting close, thank god... you loved the feeling of him cumming inside of you, of him using you. A moment later you were flipped back onto your back, your legs tossed over his shoulders. He looked so handsome like this, his hair in his face and his eyes wild... He should really let more people see it.

"Planned on it..." He sighed, pushing his hair out of his face as he let his head loll back. You sat up a bit, whimpering at the change of position so you could run your fingers over his stomach, his chest. He pushed you down again, bending over you. You didn't even know your legs could bend like this, fuck.

"James, please give me your cum. Please, please please! Please, Jamie I'll do anything." You cried, digging your nails into his back and scratching down as he continued his movements. He let out a low groan in your ear and shivered for a moment, clearly relishing in the slight sting.

"Oh, god."

"Fuck yes." You groaned, knowing he was moments away from cumming. He pushed your legs off his shoulders and fell onto his forearms, gripping close to you as he fucked into you harder, making you feel a pleasant sort of numb from the overstimulation.

"Take it, take my fucking cum! God, you're so good for it." Above you, he froze, thrusting deep inside of you before he trembled, the vein in his neck popping out as he let out a low moan, his cum filling you a moment later, and then he collapsed. "Fuck..." He grunted into your neck, and you sighed, wrapping your legs around his waist as you toyed with the back of his hair.

"That was so fucking good, Potter. Gotta get you pissed off more often, I don't think I've ever cum that hard in my life, I don't know if I can even move right now." You sighed, and James was sitting up and off you a moment later, looking at you with furrowed brows. Right. The worry, the worry always followed the fun with him.

"Are you alright? Did I hurt you?" James asked, tracing his finger down your face, the concern clear. You shook your head, of course he didn't hurt you, he never hurt you. "I got carried away, let me clean you up and get you some water." He went to pull his pants on, but you cleared your throat. You didn't want him to leave.

"Jamie, hey... hey, I'm fine." You held your arms open, giving him a large smile. "Just c'mere, lay with me." You said, and he took a deep breath, nodding before walking over to you.

"Okay..." He was silent for a moment before he spoke. "I don't actually think you're a slut." James murmured, and you grinned. That was clear, that was a large part of this arrangement.

"I know, James."

"And you can fuck whoever you want." He said, and you chuckled, pulling him closer to you.

"Believe me, I know. Just quiet down, and then we'll get cleaned up." You said, and he glanced at the door, raising an eyebrow at the raging party just outside the door.

"What about the party?" He asked, and you shrugged.

"The girls can cover it. I really don't wanna move right now." You sighed, laying on your back as you stared up at your ceiling. He let out a loud sigh, sliding an arm under your head.

"Thank god, because I don't either." He sighed, and you leaned into him, tracing your fingers over his soft skin, his firm muscle...

"Lily looked cute tonight." You murmured, and James let out a wistful sigh. God, he was so in love with him it was almost embarassing.

"Yeah she did." He said, and you chewed your lip, looking over at him. Adding Lily into this... that could be fun, that could be a fun change of pace.

"We could... invite her sometime, you know." You murmured, kissing up the side of his neck as you traced your fingers over the skin of his abdomen, hearing him let out little pants.

"Lily? Does she like girls too?" He asked, his voice a tad higher than it had been a moment ago. You chuckled, lifting your head up to make eye contact with him.

"Uh... considering I've fucked her a few times, I would confidently say yes. She does." You responded, and James nodded, his eyes lighting up when he thought of it.

"Okay. Okay, then yeah we should, I just wanted to make sure it'd be fun for both of us." James explained, and you nodded. Of course it would be fun, honestly it would be fun to just see them together... considering how quickly James would become a whimpering mess.

"It would be so fun. I'll float the idea tomorrow and let you know." You sighed, and James gave you a large smile, pulling you into his side. It would be fucking amazing, you already knew it... Lily was the perfect contrast to James... plus, they seemed to work together quite well... You should tell James that, he'd love to hear it.

"Brilliant."

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nicoline1998enilocin · 5 months

Text

Bad girl

Pairing Professor!Robert Downey Jr. x Student!Fem!Reader

Word count ~ 800 words

Summary Your grades have been slipping, and your professor is happy to help you raise them back up. However, this comes with a price you're more than willing to pay because you've had a crush on him since you first set foot in his classroom.

Warning(s) RPF, large age gap ~ Robert is in his mid to late 50s, and Reader is in her mid to late 20s, use of pet names (Kitten, Princess).

Smut | Porn with minimal plot ~ unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), Daddy kink, hair pulling, dirty talk, oral ~ M receiving, deepthroating, cum swallowing, aftercare.

Rating E (Explicit)

A/n This fic is dedicated to my dear friend @ccbsrmsf1, because this blog and my fics wouldn't have been here without everything you do for me! This is proofread by @buckys-wintersoldier, for which I am forever grateful, I love you both with all my heart 🩵

Events Masterlist | O5. ''Hands behind your back'' | @anyfandomfluffbingo

Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF credit: @ccbsrmsf1

Main Masterlist | Robert Downey Jr. Masterlist | Read on AO3

You're bent over your professor's desk, completely bare for him, and his tie is shoved into your mouth to keep your noises down. What you two are doing is highly unethical, but the fact that you're fucking your professor is worth every last second.

''Look at you, such a dirty fucking slut for me,'' Robert groans out between thrusts, his giant, veiny cock driving into you with a relentless pace, making you see stars and the tears running down your face.

Some whines and moans are trying to escape past your lips, but the silky material makes it practically impossible and only makes Robert harder. Knowing he has you under his total control, his head reels with a power he's never felt before.

Since your grades started slipping, he decided to tutor you in his subject, but it took only a short time for the two of you to create a relationship that was more than just student/teacher.

''You're going to cum again for me, huh? Will you be my good girl and cum on Daddy's cock?'' he asks as he wraps your hair around his long, thick fingers and yanks it back so your back is flush with his chest. His pace does not falter even once.

You try to nod in answer to his question, but his grip on your hair is so tight you can barely move, and Robert lets out a mischievous chuckle.

''What's wrong, Kitten, are you too fucking dumb to answer a simple question? Have I truly fucked you dumb this time?'' he asks, tugging again for good measure before he quickly releases, and you collapse onto the desk, unable to hold yourself up.

Not that you mind, because you love this rough treatment. It always makes you crave more, and he's more than willing to give it to you.

Your fingers grip the edge of the desk when Robert sets an iron grip around your hips, surely bruising, but you don't care. All you can think right now is how badly you want to cum, and Robert can feel the grip you have on his cock.

''Cum for me, Kitten, cum all over this fat cock you love so much,'' he says, one of his hands leaving your hip to rub his calloused fingertips over your clit, making your legs tremble and cum with a muffled shout.

The tears are still streaming down your face from pleasure, and you're fucked out already, but Robert's not done with you just yet. He's riding out your high slowly, and once you've come down from it, he pulls you carefully back up.

''On your knees and hands behind your back,'' he orders, and even though you're still trembling, you wouldn't dare to go against his wishes, so you do as he says.

Your pussy is completely sore, and you might not be able to walk properly for a while, but that will be something to worry about later; right now, all you care about is Robert and his pleasure.

As soon as you're on your knees, hands folded behind your back, he pulls out the tie in your mouth and quickly replaces it with his cock, and you start sucking him off in earnest.

His right hand has pulled your hair in a loose ponytail this time, while his left one is wrapped loosely around your neck, feeling how he fucks you deep into your throat.

The groans leaving his mouth are unmistakable, and when you look up at him with watery eyes, mascara running down your face, and your mouth wrapped around his cock, he finds himself cumming down your throat, forcing you to take all of it.

With one last loud groan, he pulls out as he's almost reaching oversensitivity. He lets himself fall on his desk chair before pulling you up into his lap and holding you close to him.

''You've done so well for me, Princess, such a perfect girl. Let's get you cleaned up and under a blanket, you're shivering,'' he coos at you, and it's true. Now that the adrenaline has gone down, you're trembling in his lap, and he first wraps his jacket around you before cleaning you up with some tissues.

''You've done so well for me today; you might have just earned yourself an A after that,'' he tells you, and all you can do is give a small smile. Too tired to do anything else.

In his office, there's a couch, and after he's put on his underwear, Robert picks you up bridal style before sitting down and positioning you so that you're straddling his lap, and a blanket is put over your back.

''Take a nap, Princess, you deserve it,'' and you fall asleep in his arms, enjoying his warmth and touch. You never want to leave his arms ever again.

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popatochisssp · 7 months

Note

OMG all the new boys are fascinating but ummm Swapfell Fruition especially?? Sounds so good?? I would love a full lore dump on this concept, I love the idea of Vi playing the long con to get rid of Gaster and it all sounds so good. Incidentally I need to read Dirty Laundry again lol, everything you make with regards to any version of Swapfell is just *chef's kiss*

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Swapfell Fruition

A young Sans’ attempt to kill his creator, the Royal Scientist is a failure.

Gaster survives the scuffle that would’ve toppled him off of the CORE’s scaffolding and gains the upper hand, subduing his traitorous creation and forcing him—and the younger one he’d been trying to escape with—back to his labs.

Sans was reckless, tipped his hand too soon and without the luck to have succeeded on the first attempt, Gaster learns that he is a sneaky little backstabber, capable of appearing obedient but hiding ruthless intentions.

He's almost proud… but of course he can't have that.

It becomes clear to the Royal Scientist that obviously, he needs his creations to have some kind of failsafe. The little one hasn't shown any signs of disobedience yet, but his primary caretaker is a crafty little snake, no telling what he could influence him to do, if given the time or the chance—so it’s back to the drawing board, to the operating table with them both.

Papyrus, at his age, doesn't really know what happens to him, only that whatever was done to him hurt, a lot. He wakes up after in the room he’d shared with his brother, scared and hurting and alone, and when Sans finally reappears, he goes to him for a hug.

Except…

Sans doesn’t hug him back.

He doesn’t hug back, and he doesn’t say anything, no matter how much Papyrus begs him to…

And the next time Gaster summons them to the lab, it’s Sans who picks him up and keeps him from squirming away, holding his arm out for Gaster’s needles.

Papyrus doesn’t understand the betrayal, at the time or in the years that follow.

His hurt turns to bitterness and resentment as his once gentle and protective big brother starts to actively help their creator change him, gradually shaping him into a stronger, more efficient killer.

But even with all the modification and training he’s subjected to, Papyrus isn’t quite the solider or war machine Gaster had planned he would be—he spooks when caught by surprise, he’s easily distracted by irrelevant things, his loyalties twist and sway far too easily for Gaster’s liking…

Well, the Royal Scientist is nothing if not resourceful, certainly able to work with…limited materials and still produce something of use.

With the right mental conditioning, and the right handler to make use of it, Papyrus will still be a valuable asset for the Empress.

After all, there’s always political enemies to the crown that her highness would surely prefer to have…removed, discreetly, and other such dirty work best done in the shadows.

Fast and stealthy, like an assassin, seems more suited to Papyrus’ abilities anyway.

And as for a handler, who better than Sans to fill the role?

Gaster’s prototype was largely a failure, but certainly intelligent and organized, presumably capable of researching and observing targets, briefing the asset on situations and targets and memorizing the trigger words and phrases necessary to keep him operating at peak efficiency.

Sans doesn’t protest.

He doesn’t protest much of anything anymore, not since…

………

Well, it’s not like he’s ever spoken about what happened when everything changed, not even to Papyrus, so when he goes along with this too, neither Gaster nor Papyrus expects otherwise.

So, that’s how it is.

Papyrus becomes the perfect assassin and Sans doles out his marching orders, occasionally following behind on missions to jerk his leash and keep him on track.

Between them, it’s…complicated.

Sans is still Papyrus’ brother, the closest thing to an ally that Papyrus has, both of them stuck in service to a power-hungry, unethical prick.

There are moments where they’re okay, times where a joke will slip out and one of them will laugh, injuries tended to, backs watched under fire, and dozens more little things that just wouldn’t happen if they were nothing to each other.

But the moments never last long.

Reality always comes back in sooner or later—usually in the form of Gaster, demanding an update or issuing new orders or calling them back from the field, to which Sans always, always complies.

Papyrus takes it as a reminder of where Sans’ real loyalties must lie.

He’s some kind of brother, not always awful, and maybe he does care about Papyrus, a little bit, but he answers to Gaster above anything or anyone else, apparently by choice.

He can’t be trusted, not really.

And Sans…

Sans stays quiet and does his job.

Quickly, efficiently, and to the letter—exemplary service, always.

Irreproachable.

He’s almost completely beneath suspicion by the time the last human falls into the Underground.

Gaster couldn’t be more thrilled.

This is a golden opportunity, the perfect chance to prove his worth to the Empress and earn clout and accolades innumerable—to be the one responsible for capturing the seventh soul and freeing all of monsterkind from their centuries of imprisonment and allowing the war against humanity to finally begin!

Well, technically, it would be his creations doing it, but it’s his name that history will remember, him who would rise into legend as the most brilliant and ruthless monster to ever live, the catalyst in humanity’s downfall.

He doesn’t waste so much as a minute before summoning Sans and ordering him to handle it, immediately.

Meet with the Empress, alert her that there’s a human loose in the Underground, and offer her the services of the asset in ending their free roam.

Sans agrees, as he always has, and goes to fetch his brother for the job.

Papyrus is admittedly a little blindsided when not two seconds out of the labs, Sans pulls him aside, out of range of known cameras and recording devices and hisses at him to listen.

He doesn’t know what to make of what Sans says after, either—that he hasn’t earned it and he knows that, but he needs Papyrus to trust him right now, because he is going to lie and everything depends on Papyrus going along with it.

In spite of their messy history and every uncharitable thing Papyrus has ever thought about Sans…right here and now, something in his gut tells him this is no trick.

He agrees to ‘go along with it’…whatever ‘it’ is.

Sans waits until a certain amount of time has elapsed, and then he makes a call to Gaster with Papyrus present to listen.

Gaster is informed that there’s a problem with the latest target. The asset’s programming isn’t taking and he’s refusing to track down the human.

This is, of course, news to Papyrus, who hasn’t been assigned his target yet.

But…Sans said ‘trust me’ and ‘play along,’ so that’s what he does, complaining that he doesn’t want to kill a child, just put him back in his cage and do your own dirty work, old man…

Helpfully—always helpful, always intelligent, always reliable—Sans postulates a conflict of orders might be causing the programming to bug like this. Gaster’s overarching orders are for the asset to kill targets assigned to him, but the Empress has unfortunately countermanded that the human must be brought to her alive.

And again, Papyrus knows differently because the Empress hasn’t given him any orders, they never made it to her for orders to be given and Toriel likely doesn’t even know yet that a human has fallen.

But he said he’d go along with the lie so he keeps his mouth shut, even as he hears Gaster curse on the other end of the line.

Gaster finds Sans’ assessment of the situation as reasonable as it is frustrating, but minds are complicated machines and often behave strangely when conflicts arise. Just look at the Empress, who knows that humans must be killed to free her people, but feels she must perform the act herself instead of the far more convenient option being presented to her!

The asset’s orders being in conflict is a far more annoying stopping block, though, yet another barrier in the way of all the glory that Gaster has so painstakingly earned.

Time is short, stakes are high, he refuses to recall his creation just to debug it and resolve the glitch, not now.

Instead he makes his fatal mistake.

He overrides the asset’s failsafes.

All of them.

Impatiently rattling off a code that nearly makes Papyrus stagger from a feeling like weight being lifted, Gaster disconnects the call with a sharp command to Sans to ‘handle it,’ now that there were no restrictions on his targets or what he could be ordered to do.

Sans is only quiet for a moment before handing a picture to Papyrus, locking him on and beginning the usual debrief.

Papyrus can’t fully grasp what he’s looking at, not at first.

“………confirm target?”

“WINDINGS GASTER, THE CURRENT ROYAL SCIENTIST TO THE CROWN.”

As with any briefing, Papyrus must be informed of his target’s connections, abilities and assets.

Gaster has strong ties with the crown, and between that and his own paranoia, security around him will be tight. He’s intelligent, strong, and merciless, and he won’t hesitate to make use of anything at his disposal in a life-or-death situation.

As an example, he had implanted a condition into his private assassin’s mental programming that would prevent him from acting against or outright attacking him—so it’s fortunate they’ve already cleared that concern.

Now, the top priorities are to ensure that Sans is physically far away from Gaster when the mission is executed, and that Papyrus is at no point seen by Gaster before he’s dead. The entire operation could be sunk if both of these conditions aren’t met.

“why?”

“THERE’S AN ADDITIONAL FAILSAFE, IMPLANTED IN YOUR SOUL. IF GASTER REALIZES YOU’VE BEEN TURNED ON HIM BEFORE YOU’VE SUCCEEDED, HE CAN INSTANTLY DROP YOUR HP TO 1.”

“………and why am i doing this without my handler?”

“BECAUSE I’M COMPROMISED TOO. IF HE SEES ME OUT OF PLACE OR SUSPECTS I’VE BETRAYED HIM AGAIN, HE’LL USE THE FAILSAFE IN MY SOUL TO REMOTELY CONTROL MY BODY AND MOBILIZE ME AGAINST YOU—AND OF COURSE, AT THAT POINT, HE WOULD KNOW THAT YOU’RE TARGETING HIM AS WELL AND BE PREPARED TO KILL YOU.”

And that…

Well.

That sure is a hell of a lot of new information that Papyrus will have to process later, when there’s not a strong compulsion in the back of his skull that there is someone he needs to kill.

He’s a professional, when he’s working.

He will focus on the mission.

To keep up appearances, Sans departs to find the fallen human and trail them on their journey through the Underground. He very much wants to ensure they reach the Empress safely, but there’s an added bonus of being exactly where he’s supposed to be and doing exactly what he’s supposed to do should Gaster check in on him—no need to arouse any suspicion, not before it’s far too late.

In the end, when Chara has befriended monsterkind against all odds, winning over the Empress herself and freeing them all to a life of peace with humankind on the surface, the death of the Royal Scientist is an incidental discovery.

Sans takes responsibility for it, pleading for the Empress’s mercy.

Gaster had wanted the human—kind young Chara, to whom Toriel has taken such a liking—killed immediately as soon as they emerged from the Ruins, and he hadn’t thought that the Empress would condone such an order in light of what she’s always held to regarding fallen humans.

Gaster had been adamant, though, and Sans… Well, he only wanted to serve the will of her highness and to do so, he turned the asset against their master. He hopes only for some leniency for what he’s done, Gaster may have been their father but—

Strangely enough, it seems Toriel had no idea that the asset and his handler were the Royal Scientist’s children. He’d always told her they were employees, volunteers for the things that were done to them and the missions they were told to undertake.

Learning that they had actually been created, intentionally molded and pressed into these roles without a choice in the matter…

Toriel, an Empress first but a mother a very close second, can certainly afford leniency.

The brothers are let loose in spite of their crime, with a bit of funding from the Empress to get on their feet after everything. The money is partially back-pay for their joint service as the crown’s black ops division (for which they were never actually compensated before), and partially amends for how long their…circumstance…went unnoticed.

Sans offers to split the money and part ways with Papyrus, if he’d prefer.

But Papyrus has learned a lot in the past few days to…completely and utterly recontextualize everything he ever thought was true about his handl—…his brother, and…maybe he should stick around a bit. See what’s what.

Vi (Swapfell Fruition Sans)

Extremely restrained and closed off from so many years of being unable to talk to or trust anyone, not even his brother. An accomplished liar but socially unpracticed, tending to read as cold and unfriendly to those who approach him. He’s more awkward than genuinely hostile, though

Issues with being watched, spent most of his life simultaneously going unnoticed and being intensely over-monitored so his feelings about being observed—regardless of context—are complicated, runs hot and cold on it

Complicated feelings for his brother, too: he loves him, of course, and he failed him in many ways, but he was also stuck between him and Gaster for a long time and caught his fair share of hell from both sides and there’s some resentment there for that. He wants to fix things, but he’s not really sure how and just…awkwardly trying his best

Well-organized and skilled at research and thinking analytically, tends to approach most things with a problem-solving attitude and an eye-socket for detail. Extremely talented at finding loopholes and ways around or through the rules—though his respect for said rules is very low to begin with

Likes high and secluded places, mostly rooftops but anywhere it could be difficult for other people to get to. Whether or not those places are restricted by fencing or padlocks or lack of ladders is immaterial, if he finds a high spot he would like to be, he will get to it one way or another and perch as long as he pleases

Hunter (Swapfell Fruition Papyrus)

Impulsive and driven by self-interest, the years of mental conditioning have broken down his fears and inhibitions to nearly nothing. He does what he wants, when he wants, with little concern for anything else—a dog off its leash who’ll only heel when it’s good and ready to. Unfortunately charming enough to mostly get away with it

Problems with authority, for obvious reasons. Likely to try to bend or break any rule presented to him, just to see if he can, and a severe lack of respect for anyone trying to enforce those rules upon him (especially the arbitrary ones)

Conflicting and highly jumbled feelings for his brother, making them a matched set: he disliked him, maybe even hated him a little for a long time, for helping Gaster turn him into what he is and for being the one to yank his leash and pull his strings…but that was before he knew that he had a kill-switch in his soul and that his brother was up on strings on his own, being pulled by the jackass they both apparently hated… It doesn’t erase everything that happened, knowing that, but it does…change things. (He wants to fix things too, but he’s not sure how either, so they’re both just awkwardly trying)

Needs ‘tune-ups’ every so often to reinforce his mental conditioning and make sure all his programming is intact, even now that Gaster’s gone and he’s retired as an assassin. Going too long without re-upping it causes deterioration, compulsions ‘leaking’ without being triggered and causing headaches and erratic, sometimes violent behavior so…best for everyone to keep his head maintained regularly

Absolutely loves nature and wilderness, hiking, camping, and climbing trees is his idea of an excellent time. Could absolutely go off on a run and disappear into the trees and not be seen or heard from for a week, likely to get some forest-cryptid lore started about him—possibly on purpose

#anonymous #headcanons #undertale #swapfell fruition #sff!sans #sff!papyrus

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avvail-whumps · 5 months

Text

‘the facility’ — pre-breakout 2/3

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content warnings: medical whump, prison whump, captivity, imprisonment, prisoners of war, dehumanization, non-con drugging, unethical medical practices, interrogations, violence, blood, slight gore, torture, drug-induced torture, reluctant whumper

Noah realised, with a somewhat growing feeling of discomfort, that his Apoid was right.

When he was escorted to his room, the first thing he noticed was that all of his things had been tranfered from Level One and neatly placed in their respective spots. All of his books were organised and stacked onto his shelves, and his clothes were hanging up and folded in drawers when he had a quick peek. There was never anything decorative or special about their rooms; the scientists spent the most important part of their days in the laboratory or with patients.

He jabbed the lock on with a sudden echausted sigh. He hadn’t even realised it at the time, but he’d been so tense that his muscles were almost aching. He forced his shoulders to slouch, eager to peel his white jacket off and dump it in the laundery basket.

He was more tired than he realised.

His eyelids were drooping and the enticing looking bed was becoming more tempting by the second.

It wasn’t much different to his room on Level One, but there was more privacy. He switched the light on in the bathroom and realised it was all for himself. He fiddled with the shower before stripping off all of his clothes, and hopping in. It was steaming hot against his sticky skin, but it felt nice to scrub off all the stress grime that had built up. When he was done, he got himself ready just as the lights dimmed by themselves.

That was usually the time he was supposed to be asleep.

Maintaining a healthy sleep schedule was greatly encouraged in the Facility, and who was Noah to argue with the simplist of rules? He wasn’t eager to get terminated so early on over something so silly.

As his head hit the pillow, his thoughts unwillingly drifted towards Cash— or no, Prisoner Seven. They weren’t meant to know their names, otherwise that would humanise them too much. Noah had been told that these men and women were anything but human, having done unspeakable things. He tried to keep clinging onto that thought as he drifted off to sleep, dreamless and relatively pleasant.

He was harshly awoken hours later when the lights brightened up again, and a small, sleepy groan escaped his lips. He clambered onto numb legs, untwisting them as he made his way into the bathroom, the cold tiles biting into his bare feet. He cleaned himself up until he was refreshed, and slipped into his normal attire. A white coat draped over his frame, and he looped his new lanyard around his neck. This time, it had a large number nine instead of one. His stomach swooped, before tearing his eyes away anxiously.

Maybe he would feel better after some food.

When he opened his door and turned the corner, he wasn’t expecting to bump into something hard. His feet skittered backwards slightly, and his head snapped up in shock to be met with an Apoid standing by his door. From the way he turned to look at him, Noah was swiftly able to deduce that this was his Apoid, the one that was apparently assigned to him. His foul mood suddenly came bursting in, and he couldn’t help but frown in annoyance.

“You,” he dryly muttered under his breath, staring at the face completely hidden by the blackened visor of his mask. “What are you doing outside my room?”

He’d asked the question on instinct, but again, he hadn’t been expecting the Apoid to actually respond. The modulation in his voice made his spine tingle again.

“I’m assigned to you,” he spoke quietly, as if he didn’t want to be heard. “Personally.”

Noah anxiously fiddled with his white collar. He knew that, of course, but his stomach was tightening from hunger and he didn’t feel like standing around like a log for much longer, staring at a faceless guard. He swerved around him, feeling a twinge of annoyance when he started following closely behind. His steps were slower and much more measured than his own.

“So does that mean you’re going to follow me around everywhere?”

The guard was quiet now. Noah couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“Then how about you at least tell me your name?” He tested hesitantly, glancing behind him for a brief second as he walked towards the direction of the refectory. “Since you’re not going to leave me alone for a while.”

The Apoid shook his head. “I’m not authorised to tell you that.”

“You’re also not authorised to speak to me, and definetly not in front of other patients,” he countered. “But you did that anyway. You’re doing it right now.”

The modulation grew sharper, exemplifying his annoyed tone. “That was different. It was necessary.”

“And?” Noah shrugged, stopping just before the corner to turn and glance up at him. “You know my name. You’re my Apoid, why can’t I know yours? Who’s going to know?”

The Apoid stepped closer, prompting Noah to back up in a flurry of fear. “Keep moving,” he growled, and only spoke when they had cleared the corner, and resumed their original pace. “It’s Fionn.”

Noah’s eyes perked up.

“Are you—?” He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Is that Irish?”

“I’m not authorised to tell you that.”

His smile faltered. It was strange to even hold such a delicate piece of personal information on somebody like an Apoid, who he always saw as black blocks of protocol and intimidation. He was eager to ask him more questions, but as they approached the refectory, it became busier along the wide corridors, and Noah wasn’t going to risk getting caught breaking protocol.

It was a little uncomfortable to have Fionn hovering over him while he ate, but Noah noticed that some other scientists had Apoids hovering beside them too. Fionn had even nudged him gently and quietly asked if he’d taken his supplements.

Noah had forgotten, and he went to retrieve them. Seeing as he was maintaining Noah’s health, the small conversation they exchanged wasn’t a problem.

Personnel came to retrieve him quickly enough.

He was taken to the laboratory where he found himself quietly working on the drug that would later be used for Cash’s scheduled time in the torture room. There were other scientists present in the big room as well, but Noah had swiftly learned to keep his head down and dilegently match their vigorous work effort.

Fionn was close by, and although it had put him off at first while he worked, time sped by quicker than it ever had before. He had been working on the toxicity of a liquid form of this drug which was labelled TN-6, when Personnel came to collect his again.

Noah’s sense of time was so warped, he wasn’t exactly sure how much time had really passed.

He could feel his heart starting to pound in his chest as he moved through the layout of the hallways, back to that sordid room where he was first taken. He’d taken a sample of the TN-6, as requested by Personnel, making sure to take the one with less toxicity. He assumed the point of the session today would be to test to natural defences Cash’s body would impliment when infected by the drug, as well as monitor how it affects his vitals.

That’s what Noah assumed until he saw an interrogator waiting in the torture room. They always wore dark orange bands around their arms to signify their job, as well as a dark balaclava mask over their faces to hide their indentities. Noah had never seen one before, since Level One was incredibly tame and torture was barely required. He lowered his things down on the desk against the wall, eyeing up the prepared tools for him to use.

Practically similiar to yesterday.

Instead of a table in the middle of the room, there was a chair fixed with strong metal cuffs on the arms and ankles. The interrogator was leaning against the wall, arms folded and finger tapping periodically. Two Apoids flanked the door as usual, and Fionn had stayed very close to his side the entire time. He eyed the big machine, no doubt for him to hook Cash up to to monitor his vitals.

Noah let out a shuddering breath. Shit.

He’d never witnessed an interrogation like this. Not with an actual interrogator. Part of him was unnerved that a drug he’d hardly tested was being used on him already, especially knowing the possible consequences of it. Then again, if Cash went into critical condition, it would be Noah’s job to nurse him back to health in the infirmary. At that thought, his nerves were suddenly set alight.

Even as Cash was escorted inside, and restrained to the chair without so much of a challenge, his head was still swimming with a mirage of different thoughts. It wasn’t until he met the hardened eyes of the interrogator that he realised he was meant to proceed.

The Apoids had already stripped Cash of his shirt, telling him they’d probably already been briefed on what was going to happen. He had to steady the tremble in his fingers as he worked, hooking his patient up until everything seemed to be working as it should.

Cash was staring at him again like last time.

For some reason, it was really puting him off. Perhaps it was because this was going to be his first time witnessing whether the rumours about Level Nine were true. That the constant, brutal torture made prisoners believe that death was a mercy.

He carefully checked over his notes. He used a sharp syringe and measured out a small dosage. Noah’s head felt incredibly light as he wiped down a puncture point and prodded for a vein, keeping his hand steady and breath even.

For just a second, he hesitated.

Cash’s voice was quiet next to him. “Don’t hesitate now, doc.”

Noah grit his teeth, and slowly injected the drug into his body. He ignored his piercing eyes as he straightened up, taking his spot beside the wall by Fionn. He noticed a slight movement as his masked gaze followed him, but of course, he was as silent as ever.

Watching the interrogation reminded him that nothing could have prepared him for the brutal violence and ruthlessness. Cash already reacted instantly to the drug, and Noah noted down every little thing he could see in his whirring, fuzzy brain. Dilated eyes. Sweating. Claminess. Shortess of breath. Papaltations. The interrogator violently bloodied up his face despite his vulnerable state, not holding back as he spat questions and derogatory language that even had Noah wincing.

It was a hard pill to swallow.

It settled unpleasantly in the bottom of his stomach, turning sour and uneasy.

The amount of times he wanted to step forward and put an end to it launched itself from his heart more times than he could count. No matter how much he kept his eyes on the machine or the notes clutched in his hands, he still couldn’t erase the noise of Cash’s painful torture, his teeth grinding together as he fought back against the agony.

It seemed to last forever, too, but Noah had completely zoned out. He remembered some of the words from the scientists from Level One; “toughen up now”. He realised he wasn’t prepared, nor ready for this.

Once the effects of the drug wore off, the interogator wiped off his bloody fists, cursing angrily under his breath. Cash’s hair was disheveled and messy, sticking to his clammy forehead. He was panting hard, rigid, tense limbs trembling under the restraints.

Fionn had to gently nudge his side to snap him out of his spinning thoughts.

Noah remembered how to breathe, very suddenly, as well as the rules that came crashing into him.

He set his clipboard down, and went to tend to Noah. He gently lifted his head back, shining a small torch into his eyes, watching as they barely shrank to accommodate the glaring light. He swallowed, shakily opening his mouth to speak.

“Can you look at my finger and follow it, please?” He asked softly under his breath, just for Cash to hear. He eventually did so, but kept scrunching his eyes in an attempt to see better. Probably dizzy. Noah noted all of that down.

He even found himself folding a small square piece of cloth, and dabbing away the sweat soaking Cash’s forehead. It was building up everywhere, down his neck, soaking over his bare torso, but Noah opted to keep his hands occupied with his damp hair instead.

“Are you okay?” He whispered before he could stop himself.

He knew protocal was delicate and he shouldn’t even be thinking about asking if a prisoner was okay, but he couldn’t help himself. Even with his tongue all twisted and tied, this was something surreal. Cash didn’t respond. How could Noah expect him to after that? He sucked in a sharp breath, diligently mopping up his sweat with shaking hands.

He had to pull himself together. Even though there was only the sound of Cash’s slurred, ragged breathing, it felt like everyone was watching him. He pressed his lips into a thin line.

“I’m going to take him the infirmary,” Noah decided, levelling the convinction in his voice. He turned to both the Apoids and the interrogator. “Can we please transfer him to a free wing?”

Like clockwork, the Apoids moved into action. Considering this was Noah’s expertise, if the scientist wanted to conduct in the infirmary, then they were allowed to. More Apoids flooded in, and Noah waited patiently as they rolled out a gurney, fastened with those same cuffs and leather straps. He remained planted where he was, suddenly hearing a quiet noise from Cash.

Noah spun around, his eyes wideneing slightly. Cash’s face was crinkled in pain, and the sweat had come back in force. His lips wobbled again, and Noah leaned forward, bracing a hand on his shoulder.

“Cash,” he whispered, and then promptly corrected himself. This was a prisoner. They weren’t people and they didn’t deserve names. His expression hardened. “Are you okay? Could you speak up and tell me what’s wrong?”

Another breathy wheeze, but Noah could sense he was trying to say something through the bruises and remains of the drug in his system. His heart twisted in guilt; it was hard to stomach. He leaned in closer, straining to make out those grumbled words. It was his job that his patient was in good condition, and that helped when he had feedback.

But apparently, feedback wasn’t what Cash had in mind at all.

Before he knew it, Fionn had surged forward, and the air was knocked out of Noah’s lungs when his arm violently shoved him away. Gloved fingers grasped awkwardly into his arm, digging into the flesh, and Noah winced as his watery eyes glanced up. Cash was straining against the restraints, his face twisted in anger and his teeth bared viciously, suddenly much more lucid than he seemed to be before.

Black Apoids converged on the scene like little bugs, and Fionn ushered Noah protectively away from him. When he realised he was gripping his arm tightly, he let go, black mask tilting in his direction. He looked as though he was going to say something, but then stiffened, and turned away.

Noah swallowed the dry lump in his throat. Guns were pointed directly in Cash’s direction, and he caught the glimpse of a needle heading for his neck. In a beat of adrenaline, he surged forward.

“Don’t,” he snapped, causing the Apoid to stop. “I don’t trust the effect a sedative will have on his health. Let him calm down; in his condition, he can’t put up a fight.”

He wasn’t quite sure why, but he was shocked that the Apoid listened to him so quickly. The needle, that had just been hovering dangerously by his patient’s exposed neck, disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Noah let out a sigh of relief, stepping back to clear the space so they could effectively transfer him over to the gunrney. Although Cash was tense and looked ready to bolt, he was no match for the Apoids. He was successfully restrained down to the gurney, blindfolded and gagged, despite Noah not being pleased with that, and swiftly wheeled down in the direction of the infirmary.

Noah let out a heavy sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging. He gently rubbed the sore spot on his arm, cursing his ignorance and almost getting himself killed. Getting too close to a patient like that was stupid, and almost rule number one in the Facility. He was so stupid.

A voice caught him off guard. He hadn’t even noticed that the room had almost cleared out, Cash’s disappearance easing the thick fog of tension that had built up.

“Are you okay?” Fionn asked quietly, and Noah stepped away from him, his heart pounding. For some reason, it was all the way in his throat. This had shaken him to his very core.

“I’m fine,” he snapped, hurrying for the door. He tried to ignore the guards posted on the doors, or the fact that Fionn was shadowing him as he went. Except, it seemed with every footstep of his Apoid, his heart yearned to match it. One step, two step, one beat and another beat. He took a deep breath, and soon, Noah felt like he’d shaken off some of that crawling pressure.

Personnel in charge of the infirmary made him confirm Cash’s time of arrival and wing, before he was allowed to take care of his patient. He was strapped down securely, and against the stark white curtains and beds and furniture, he had the opposing blackness of Fionn and two other Apoids to keep him company. Cash remained relatively subdued for the most part, where Noah made sure his health would remain positive and monitered his vitals for any adverse effects. The next day, he could implement his research into improving the compound.

He rubbed his eyes wearily. He was doing this for a reason; he had to keep reminding himself of that. Every day he worked was another day for his sister.

Noah made sure Cash was checked in overnight, giving him plenty of time to recover, and was finally scheduled to go back to his room for rest. He considered keeping himself busy with some exercise, but he decided going to sleep early would do him some good. Before he stepped into the threshold of his plain room, his shadow spoke once again.

“Hey.”

Noah blinked, turning around with heavy eyes. It was easy to forget that his Apoid was behind him every step of the way. He squinted at him. Fionn was frozen for a moment, before his hand dipped into his pocket, and he tossed him something small. Noah scrambled to catch it.

“For your arm,” he spoke quietly, as if anyone could overhear him. He was stepping out of line doing this, Noah realised as he glanced at the small tube he’d given him. It was a soothing cream. “I’m sorry for grabbing you like that.”

Noah looked up. “You mean…for doing your job? It was my fault I got too close.”

Even though there was nothing but black behind that helemt, and Fionn held himself in a way that indicated no body language, he was sure he could sense the change of expression. The doctor bit the inside of his cheek, smiling gratefully up at him.

“But thanks,” he mumbled. “You know you’re not allowed to do that.”

Fionn didn’t move. “I know.”

“You’re full of surprises, Fionn,” Noah laughed breathlessly, and he gripped the cream firmly in his hand. “I’m going to get some sleep I think.”

The Apoid tilted his head. “You have two hours to spare.”

“I know,” he sighed. He was exhausted, and he needed to sleep on what had happened today. His mind was all over the place. “I need the extra hours. Sorry for making you wait outside.”

He assumed that when the lights went down and it was his schedule kicked in, Fionn would almost rest and sleep the hours away until he was up early and ready outside Noah’s door for when he had to work in the lab. Noah only assumed that he’d be making Fionn wait outside for a couple hours before that happened.

“It’s my job,” Fionn responded coolly, and motioned for himself to leave. Noah considered wishing him a good night, but that would more than likely be inappropiate. Before he could think about it, the door slid shut, and he was left in silence. A loud, heavy sigh fell from him, and after peeling off his clothes and changing into comfortable ones, he collasped on his bed, and fell fast asleep.

That didn’t last long, however.

Noah was tortured by horrific nightmares. All he could hear were bone chilling screams, feel coppery blood dripping off his hands, and cold dead bodies by his feet. He had tried to race over them, staggering over bloated corpses, all while Cash’s writhing and injured face haunted his mind. He’d done that; subjected him to that awful torture.

Before he knew it, he was scrambling out of his bed, slick with sweat and a scream dying on his lips. His fingers dug into his throat, desperately trying to suck in some air, and blearily looked around his room. The lights were still on. Did that mean—?

He stumbled to the door. When he opened it and poked his head round, Fionn was still standing there. It mustn’t have been that long, and Noah ran a shaking hand through his hair, slick with clammy sweat.

“Fionn?” He croaked, and the mention of his name made the soldier’s head turn, alert. He blocked the doorway, keeping his voice a low rumble as he spoke.

“Don’t adress me by name like that,” he warned, his voice going deadly, but still with an ounce of concern upon seeing Noah’s disheveled figure. “What’s wrong?”

He sucked in a sharp breath. He still felt jittery and uncomfortable, like he’d look over his shoulder and see mangled, putrid corpses gurgling his name. He ran another hand through his hair, biting the inside of his cheek.

“I just had a nightmare,” he admitted. Fionn didn’t respond, because why would he? He and Noah were both trained vigorously to follow protocol, those being that they weren’t allowed to know any more about each other than what it said on a scientist’s name tag. Yet, this had all been a spiralling shit show, and he couldn’t handle it. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

The Apoid didn’t move. Didn’t even tilt his head. “There’s nothing I can do.”

Noah stared at him pleadingly. “Fionn,” he choked. “I won’t be able to sleep. I just can’t. Can’t you just…”

Fionn was a stranger. But he was less of a stranger than anybody else in this place.

“I cannot enter your room unless it’s an emergency,” he murmurs quietly, and Noah’s head throbs. He lets out an aggravated huff.

“That’s so stupid,” he hisses, clenching his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. “This is an emergency. Please, I just need ten minutes.”

Silence. It was like staring at a statue, and Noah gave another huff, pressing his palms against the back of his eyes until he saw stars. He grumbled under his breath, trying to ignore the stinging tears of frustration at his eyes.

Noah would just have to make an emergency then.

He looked around the room, and took a few steps back, clearing his throat. It forced him to relax an inch, taking his mind off all those horrifying images beneath his eyelids whenever he blinked. He picked a good spot, and then stared at Fionn blankly.

“Oh, no,” he flatly exclaimed, turning in a circle slowly on the spot. “I feel dizzy, Fionn. I think I’m going to fight.”

Cold silence greeted him, but he was committed. He made a convincing moaning noise, holding his head woozily. Noah pretended to sway, elegantly placed himself on the ground, and then slumped into an unceromonius position. He even heard a sigh coming from Fionn, and it almost made him laugh.

“That’s not going to work, Noah,” Fionn spoke, and it was the first time he had uttered his name since they’d met. Still, Noah didn’t move. Silence sprouted in the air for eight seconds (he was counting) before Fionn spoke again, this time, his voice breaching with annoyance, and no modulation could hide that.

“Noah,” the Apoid sighed, and he forced himself not to laugh. “Noah?”

Then there was another sharp sigh, and footsteps started towards him. When the door slid shut behind Fionn, Noah opened his eyes, and finally sat up, smiling up at him. Gloved hands settled on his shoulders and helped him up to his feet, and Noah realised that his heart wasn’t racing so much anymore. The adrenaline had simmered down, and didn’t feel so hot around the collar. He glanced up at the Apoid, surpressing the smile.

“Both of our contracts are going to be terminated,” Fionn murmured in warning, guiding Noah to the bed. He helped him take a seat, and moved to grab a bottle of water. He took it with a sly smile, chuckling breathlessly.

“You know I didn’t actually feel dizzy,” he joked, but gratefully took a swig, the cold water seeping into his bones and cooling him down. He released a quiet breath, wiping his forehead carefully and relaxing into the mattress below him. His smile faded, only for a moment, and Fionn’s head tilted as he watched him.

“How are you feeling?” He asks quietly. Noah looks up at him through his eyelashes.

“A little better,” he admits, keeping the bottle close. It feels cool against the skin of his palm. “I knew that Level Nine had a reputation, but…”

He trails off, the words dying uselessly on his tongue.

“I thought that it wouldn’t be this bad,” he whispers softly, staring at his lap as his lips curved into a frown. “I thought that the reason why I was here would make it so much easier, but - it doesn’t. I don’t have the guts for this place.”

Fionn is quiet, just listening to Noah’s words. When he wipes his eyes, he notices that he’s stepped closer, and he takes a seat next to him on the bed, his rifle slung over his back. Noah stares at his own reflection in the blackness of the visor.

“I’m doing this for my Ma and Pa,” he tells him, his voice ever so quiet, like they were telling each other confidential secrets. “I’ve been here for almost three years now.”

Noah looks at him hopefully. “And does it get easier?”

His head shakes from side to side. “No,” he answers grimly. “It gets much harder.”

Noah presses his lips into a thin line, and the bottle crinkles slightly as he grasps it tighter. Their contracts lasted ten years. Ten years without seeing his family, without knowing what sort of recovery his sister was making. It would be torture, and it made him want to cry. This had all been for her, and he couldn’t just leave. He’d told himself that he would endure it all, just for her, no matter how hard it got. He wondered if Fionn told himself the same thing.

“Would you like to hear a poem?” The Apoid suddenly spoke up. Noah’s brows furrowed slightly in confusion, but regardless, he nodded his head. He could use a distraction - anything to help put his mind at rest. “It’s my favourite. By William Butler Yeats, called The Second Coming.”

As Fionn gently recited the lines, Noah discovered the answer to his earlier question. That yes - Fionn was Irish. The hint of an accent slipped through as he spoke, like it was completely natural for him. Noah closed his eyes, letting the soothing words wash over him.

It made him see Fionn as more of a human than another faceless, robotic Apoid, and it was a very comforting thought.

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