#bottom growth. my throat has hurt a bit for a few days but i might also just have gotten a cold. i feel however like my voice is a little | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nothorses · 3 years

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Hi! Sorry to bother you, but I just thought I’d ask because Google isn’t very good-

What are some things that happen on T that you dont expect/think will happen/surprised you?

I know the obvious stuff like voice dropping and hair and muscle growth being easier, but idk what to expect other than those bits and I’m a bit nervous.

Sorry to bother you, have a lovely day! 💚

Ooh, okay. This is exactly why I kept a journal.

lemme start with the most helpful bit of info I received pre-T:

Skin oiliness/acne

Everyone has different experiences with this; personally, my acne actually cleared up completely for a few months when I first started. Now it’s back, and worse, but I’ve noticed it’s mostly around my mouth and chin- where beard growth is beginning. Also, upper back and shoulders. Those areas seem to be the typical ones, from what I gather.

I am definitely oilier, and I definitely need to shower every day. I recommend getting lotion for your back, and some kind of scrubber, and washing your face morning and night to deal with oiliness. I use basic face wash, toner, and moisturizer, plus I exfoliate and use a hydrating face mask 2 or 3 times a week. And benzoyl peroxide cream for the zits. That’s what was recommended to me & it’s working pretty well, but ymmv!

Cessation of menstrual period

This also varies for everyone, especially between gel and injections. I’m on injections, and mine stopped about three months in. It was also kind of a petering out; they might get longer or less intense for a bit before they stop entirely.

Body fat redistribution

This one takes a while and isn’t super immediately noticeable, but working out helps speed this process along. You may also gain weight when you’re first starting T, and most folks’ appetites increase as well. Mine certainly did- but then I started Adderall not long after, which has lessened it again.

Vaginal atrophy

This just means you begin to produce less fluid & tighten up. Lube is your friend, prep is your friend, just be kind to your stuff. You shouldn’t experience any pain or significant discomfort, but I was sort of dry/itchy for a month or so near the beginning, and lube helped with that. Talk to a doctor if it keeps going on and doesn’t get better in time.

Increased muscle mass/strength

This one can take a while to start, but I’ve heard that it can be tough to know your own strength when it does. Again, working out helps!

Changes in libido

My libido increased fast and hard. You will not be uncontrollable by any means, you will not become a sex-crazed beast, you will not lose your faculties or any of that shit people sometimes try to scaremonger with. It’s literally just that your regular hornyness happens more often, and might feel stronger as well. It’s also normal for orgasms to feel different after some time on HRT; less full-body, more specific to the genital region.

Some folks also talk about shifts in orientation. In my experience, the orientation thing has been true, but only because I feel more comfortable in my own body now! I’m more comfortable with the idea of physical relationships because I’m more comfortable with existing and being perceived physically. I have a better read on who I’m actually attracted to because I’m not on eight planes of dissociation from my own emotions and sense of attraction. It feels better, and more true to who I actually am.

Facial/body hair growth

This varies for everyone too! Body hair starts to thicken and spring up in new areas; I noticed it on my lower abdomen first. My leg hair seems to be darkening and thickening a bit, too. Facial hair can feel itchy and even hurt a bit when it first starts, but essentially it’s your peach fuzz starting to thicken up and grow longer over time. It can also be sort of patchy and inconsistent, and it can take multiple years for it to fill out into satisfying beard hair.

Give it time! Shaving won’t speed things up, but getting shaving materials a few months in isn’t a terrible idea. The patchy/inconsistent/whispy growth isn’t everyone’s favorite look to rock, and shaving can be a validating experience. Personally I like to let things grow, since I live alone and nobody sees me without a mask on, but it’s nice to have the option.

Bottom growth

I think this is weirdly one that folks don’t really talk about, but it is one of the more significant changes! Things may feel pretty sensitive pretty quickly (mine started within the first month) and it’s helpful to wear bottoms with some space in those first few months after you feel bottom growth starting. It can definitely be painful at times- that’ll chill out after a while, though.

I don’t want to get super explicit with this post, but it will essentially look a lot like a very small penis after some time. You need to take care to clean it- rinse, and use very basic, unscented soap very sparingly- and keep in mind that you may be prone to UTIs. Cranberry juice won’t do much, but cranberry pills will!

Deepened voice

This also started very early for me. My throat was sore almost immediately, and while there was no noticeable change in my voice, the soreness kept up almost constantly for months. My first “drop” was during my second month, though usually that happens the third month.

My voice was kinda scratchy and weak for a while, and it was hard to figure out where to speak; it sort of felt like I was just more inclined to use a lower register most of the time. Gradually, the higher part of my range started to become... “locked”? If I tried to speak too highly, my voice would squeak and crack. Now, it’s naturally much deeper, and I can’t speak above a certain register at all. There’s just no sound!

It can help to learn to speak from your belly, not your head, if you want your voice to be deeper. You may also notice that certain ways of speaking and certain inflections read differently as your voice changes; a lot of voice training for trans men is about using a flatter inflection. How you want to sound is entirely up to you, and there’s no wrong way to speak.

Also, low-T can make the voice change process easier and help preserve your singing voice, and may be worth looking into if that’s important to you. Changes will happen more slowly overall on low-T.

Hair loss/male pattern baldness

This was the one I was honestly afraid of, but the nurse I spoke to is also on T, and what he told me was that “hair loss” just means your hairline shifts to a more masculine shape. Nothing scary! Male pattern baldness is also determined by genetics; look to male family members for predictions on when that might set in for you, if it does.

Hopefully there’s some helpful info in there! It’s also 2am now, so I might just be unintelligible. Good luck, friend, and if you’re starting soon, congrats!!

#hrt #testosterone hrt #transmasc #trans men #ftm #not horses #Anon #Ask

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girlmeetsliv3 · 3 years

Text

Cruel Liaisons

~~ Previously Lingerlust ~~

A/B/O!MiniMoni x Reader; Poly BTS

“When one strikes the heart of another they seldom miss, and the wound is invariably fatal.”

Release Date: May 7th, 2021 @ 12:15 p.m. (GMT-5)

Apologies for the late update. Hope you enjoy it.

Trigger Warnings: blood and gore.

February 2nd, 2022

“Please state your name for the record.”

“Jeon YN.” YN stared at the recording machine in front of her, it looked antiquated like the type that wasn’t automatically connected to a cloud or storage system. “Those types have to be manually saved. Which can come in handy.” The officer’s cleared their throats, drawing back YN’s attention. What were their names again? “We need you to state your sub-gender as well.” The one on the left spoke lowly, his voice coming out a bit tense and nervous. “Beta.” When YN tried to smell them, she noticed both were wearing scent blockers, though her sense of smell was never her strong suit.

“This is officer Park Sooyoung and officer Kim Jisoo.” The taller one stated, her tone dull, as if she rather be anywhere else. Judging by the bags under her eyes and the large cup of coffee in front of her – a bed seemed to be her choice. Officer Kim reached to the ground and placed a file on the desk, she opened it to reveal a series of photographs; five to be precise. Males and females from around a same age group are placed with one female in the center, she looks strangely familiar to YN. The rounded tip of her nose and arched brows but she can’t quite place the face. There is someone YN does recognize though, a face she saw just a few days ago.

“Anyone you recognize?” Officer Kim asks, her tone is serious but airy. The smile on her face after every sentence lets YN know that she’s the ‘good cop.’

YN points at the second photo from the left, “Him. I saw him in a missing persons ad on the news, but he didn’t look this old.” They had likely picked a picture from when he was younger, the man on the news held a bright smile. His jawline sharp and his cheekbones high but not defined. The man in the photograph in front of her had a pronounced jawline, hollow cheeks, and an ugly scowl that did nothing to mar his features. ‘K.T’ read the bottom.

“What news channel and around what time?”

“KBS, maybe late evening. I watch it before I go to sleep.”

Both officers nod, as Park shifts around on her seat. Now facing directly at YN, resting both elbows on the metal table. “Are you aware of the reason you were brought into the station today?” Officer Kim jumps in before YN can answer, “Just so you know you aren’t being charged with anything.”

Yes. “No, I don’t know.” She shrugged, keeping her eyes level and gaze neither too intense nor too bored.

“You’re here due to your affiliation with Alpha’s Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin,” Park spoke, “They’re your employers, correct?” There was an edge to her voice that YN recognized. Many people weren’t fond of them – many had a reason not to be.

“Yes.” YN nods.

“How long have you worked for them?” Kim asks.

YN notes how neither women are writing anything down, nor looking towards the one-sided mirror behind them. Are they perhaps recording this with a second device? If that’s the case it's not just her voice YN must be cautious of, but her expressions as well. “Around nine months, I’m their housekeeper and take care of Hyunwoo.” After a bit of silence from the police, she elaborates more, “I cook, clean, and help the child with his homework.”

“That’s quite a lot for just one person. Especially considering you have little background in those areas before you were hired, correct?”

They’re trying to bait me. “I’m used to doing those things at home.” YN shrugs, she can see the growing frown on Park’s features.

“How exactly did you hear about the job?” Kim leans forward, but one of her hands drops below the table. Park’s eyes dart over to her partner for a second, but YN catches it. Kim likely gave her a signal or something like a reassuring squeeze, YN hopes it’s the latter. “What was the hiring process like?”

“From an acquaintance Dr. Sihyuk.” Both officers nod along, they don’t seem to recognize the name. “Bang’s dead. Unlikely anyone will find something there.” They always knew to cover their bases. “Um, normal, I guess. I sent in an application and then had an interview.”

“You made a lot of money as the Kim’s housekeeper. Did you never ask yourself where that money was coming from?” It seemed the officers were done trying to be subtle.

“No, it wasn’t my place. Plus, most of the money I earned went into paying family debts.”

“Do you know Kim Namjoon’s or Park Jimin’s source of income?”

“Again no. I just did what I was supposed to do.”

“You never thought to ask?”

“No.”

Sooyoung smirks, “Interesting how everyone around the Kim’s just accepts things at face value. Their co-workers, drivers, bodyguards, even their housekeeper just does what their told. You weren’t even a little bit curious as to how they could possibly afford the lifestyle they have?”

“Curiosity killed the cat.” YN’s arms were clenching around the chair, trying to hold herself back from reacting negatively to the hassling.

“But we aren’t cats.” Sooyoung remarks and for a second YN feels like she’s lost a battle. Jisoo points to the picture in the center, it's a beautiful young woman with flowy hair and a bright smile. Her delicate features give away her omega nature. Though the closer YN inspects the picture, they’re bags under her eyes, permanent frown lines etched onto her face, a hollowness to her eyes. She looks somewhere between life and death. “Do you recognize this woman? You lingered on her a bit longer than the rest of them.”

The longer YN stares at her the more she starts to piece things together, but it still feels like she’s missing something. So she gives a generic answer. “She looks kind of familiar. Has that kind of face.”

“What kind of face?” Jisoo questions.

“Like…pretty, popular, all over billboards kind of face.”

It's enough to satisfy them for now. They slowly start removing all the pictures while leaving only the woman’s, the longer YN sees it the more unnerved she becomes. Her head begins to hurt as another migraine begins to pound at her temples. Creating a sort of hazy fog over YN’s mind. Both officers’ then hold up the picture and flip it revealing a picture of the same woman holding a young child wrapped in blankets. She looks so much happier, so full of life. Instantly YN places her, recognizing the toddler wrapped in blue velvet.

“This is Hyunwoo’s mother. The last time anyone saw her alive was three weeks ago when she just so happened to be having dinner with your employers.” Fuck.

Present

YN’s phone dings as another text from Mark appears on her screen: ‘boss wants to know when you’ll start paying?’ She groans exhaustedly, responding with ‘I have been paying. He gets half my salary every week.’ Which hasn’t made living very comfortable for YN, but she makes do with what she can.

Mark: It’s not enough princess, not with the way daddy’s been spending money.

Me: What am I supposed to do if you keep giving him money?!

Mark: That’s not up to me. So, the money?

Me: I’m looking for a second job. One that pays better.

Mark: Just go sell your eggs or something. Not like you have any use for them.

“Asshole.” YN muttered, muting her notifications. She looked up to the entrance of the fertility clinic debating whether or not to go in. It wasn’t like she had much of an option; she needed the money and fertility clinics were the only ones willing to provide big sums of money fast. Not to mention she had missed a day of work to make the appointment, which meant less money to give to Mark. I hate this. I hate this so much. YN was about to walk away, leave everything when she spotted a black BMW parked on the curve. Its driver observing her intensely. She knew what it meant.

Mark was getting pushy. Meaning his boss was getting pushy and YN didn’t need to be on the bad side of some loan shark – not again. So, she mustered up the courage and opened the glass doors, being hit with the smell of lavender and pheromones. It reeks. Nonetheless, she forced a smile on her face and walked towards the front desk. “Hello, I have an appointment with Dr. Sihyuk.”

“Unfortunately, there is a limit to how many eggs we can safely remove from you. Betas aren’t like omegas, you have a set number of eggs. Removing the majority of them would leave you infertile. We’d also be unsure of whether the eggs are useful or not without running the proper examinations which can take weeks.” Dr. Sihyuk explained as he went over YN’s medical file, each sentence uttered destroying her hope little by little.

“I understand but I am quite fertile. I carry a recessive gene from my father who is an omega. Not to mention I’m not interested in having children so I would have no use for my eggs,” she could sense the doctor’s hesitation, “unlike someone who might benefit from them.” I just really need the money.

“Oh, I know, you betas are lucky in that sense. Don’t have to worry about population growth.” Though it was said jokingly it still made YN uncomfortable, let her know he wasn’t buying her bullshit. The doctor closed the file, “Why exactly are you interested in donating your eggs? Is it for the money?” He saw right through her. At her silence the doctor sighs, “We get one of you every once in a while. Always wrapped up in some business started by a family member or mistakes you’ve made.” Sihyuk opens a file cabinet beside him and shoves her file in there, “Unfortunately for you there’s no market for beta eggs.”

YN sags exhaustion and fear taking over her, “I –” Sihyuk takes a small white business card out of the cabinet holding it out towards her. “Fortunately for you, I happen to know someone hiring. They specified only betas applied.” Hesitantly YN takes the card, “What kind of job?” Though she knows one should never look a gift horse in the mouth it feels to good to be true. “A housekeeper for an alpha couple. They’re long-time associates of mine. Give them a call you won’t regret it.”

Evening of June 20th, 2021

Hyunwoo wouldn’t stop crying. YN truly regretted feeding him chocolate before bed, he had nightmares that had not let the three-year-old rest. Though YN had time and time again reassured them there were no monsters under his bed or strange men coming to take him at night, he wouldn’t hear of it. Insisted she had stayed in bed with him and when that didn’t work cried out for his daddies. The issue being his daddies were currently busy, in the middle of their ruts with their weekly guests. Thankfully, their bedroom was across the apartment from Hyunwoo’s, or else she’d have to explain to the child that the screams being heard didn’t belong to ghost.

“I want papa! I want daddy!” Hyunwoo shrieked, snot and tears dribbling down his face. At this rate, he’d get himself sick if he didn’t permanently injure his vocal cords – or her hearing.

“I know. I know, but they’re busy right now. I can go get them later.” When their guests are gone and they’ve cleaned their bedroom. YN never quite knew how they manage to sneak them out and clean up so fast, but she didn’t question it. Less work for me.

“NO! I want them now!” Hyunwoo bolted towards the door, his little legs running as fast as they could. Though they couldn’t compare to YN’s.

She hugged the toddler, “Alright. I’ll go get your daddies but you have to promise me you’ll wait in bed.” Hyunwoo began to shake his head, “Come on Woowoo, imagine what they’ll say if they hear you threw a tantrum. What would daddies say?”

That seemed to sober him up a bit, “They would be disappointed.”

“Exactly,” YN led him back to bed, gently tucking him in. “I’ll be right back with them soon, okay?”

The hallway felt eerily long as YN struggled with how to politely interrupt without being subjected to the alpha’s rages. Ruts were an especially tricky time and there would be very little she could do to protect herself if it took a turn for the worse. Not to mention she was breaking one of the very few rules set by them: no bothering us after nine pm. YN glanced at her watch, it was currently 11:43 pm. I am so going to lose my job. But Hyunwoo needed his parents, and she didn’t want to risk the toddler running into their bedroom and being witness to something that would certainly cause trauma. Not to mention I might get sent his therapy bills. More debt. YN reached their bedroom doors. A light red hue leaking from the bottom, she willed all her courage and knocked.

“Come in, darling.” Jimin spoke, his dulcet tone sounding a little rougher than normal. Surprisingly the door was unlocked, so YN opened it. At first, she saw nothing out of the ordinary, just Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin laying in their bed. The red silk sheets, she so often had to wash, concealing their more intimate parts. It wasn’t until YN noticed the stains covering their bodies and the walls. It caused her eyes to dance around the room until she landed on what had caused such a mess: the two dismembered bodies lying on the floor. The red lighting of the room serving to conceal what the stains truly were: blood.

Namjoon beckoned her inside with a wave of his hand and YN felt obliged to obey. She could still smell the pheromones in their air, still feel their rut. Not to mention, Hyunwoo might have been following her. She locked the door behind her.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Namjoon spoke, smirking and showing off his blood-stained pearly teeth.

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toadwarts · 3 years

Text

Special Delivery

Companion piece to Safe At Last.

After two humans escaped from an abusive home and found a new home working alongside Duke, they have begun settling into their new lives as merchants and their polyamorous romance with The Duke. Our primary character (aka the Reader) is struggling with the way he is perceived by the villagers, but is pleasantly surprised when The Duke returns with a special gift... Just the thing to help him feel better.

Fluffy hurt/comfort poly oneshot written in first person but made so that you can insert yourself if wanted. This story centers on a transmasculine protagonist!

Read on A03 or Fanfiction.net!

I sat in the back of the Duke’s caravan, lonely and bored. Both the Duke and my primary partner had been out for hours, making deliveries around the village and to the factory. I had stayed behind to look after the caravan and make sales to anyone who might approach--not to mention I wasn’t terribly keen on meeting any of the four lords yet. It had been months since we began staying with the massive enigma of a man, and only a few days less of that time since we had become a delightful little polycule.

Life in the village hadn’t been easy--there were a lot of mysterious dangers, and you had to be cunning with both your words and weapons. Even still, it was as if The Duke commanded respect of all who lived within the confines of this little world, and so the three of us were safe/ When asked, The Duke would simply flash an award winning smile and say, “I suppose it’s one of the perks of having world class customer service!”

Still, The Duke being so...enigmatic could be exhausting, and perhaps a little bit annoying at times. But he was a good friend and even better lover, and always made sure that we were cared for. If he wanted to keep his secrets, I suppose it was his business. One day, after building up plenty of trust...perhaps we would be privy to them. After all, we had our own secrets too.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

I startled at the sudden noise, hopping up to my feet. No one had approached the caravan all day, but I needed to make sure my customer service was perfect, else The Duke would be most displeased!

“Hello,” I said, my voice chipper. “How can I help you out today?” The customers seemed to be a couple--a thin man and woman, dressed all in black with their hats pulled low on the crowns of their heads. Their hands were intertwined, both of them shivering in the cold.

“We were looking for meat. Sausage, if you have it. And a few nails so we can fix our fence.” The man said, fidgeting with his jacket.

“Of course! Anything to help out a loyal customer. Just let me go and grab them from the back.” I said cheerfully, forcing a big smile. I wasn’t prone to very much facial expression myself, but trying to mimic The Duke definitely helped. It was almost like putting on a costume.

I traversed back into the caravan, rooting around for what was needed. I kept my ears perked to listen to the customers as I unraveled a rope of thick sausages, placing them gently into a pristine paper bag.

“I wonder where that girl came from. The boy too.” The woman said. “The Duke has seemed to take quite a shining to the two of ‘em, and it looks like The Lords don’t mind them too much either. Surprised Dimitrescu hasn’t taken that maiden for herself.”

I felt ice shoot through my bloodstream. The girl. The boy too. A sour feeling entered my mouth. My partner didn’t go by any gender, and me… Well, it seems that my binder didn’t work well enough today. Really, I suppose it was my voice that gave me away. I had always felt disconnected from its lilting, high pitch. I hunched my shoulders and huffed, finishing packaging their order. It couldn’t be helped. A lot of people couldn’t understand.

I approached the front of the caravan, wanting this transaction to be over as soon as possible. “Here you go.” I said, doing my best to open up the back of my throat and make my voice sound deeper. Foolish and a waste of time, I’m sure. “Everything is packed up now. I hope that you find it all to be of the highest quality. If you have any qualms, please come back to see us.”

“Thank you ma’am.” The woman said as her husband dug around in his pockets for the appropriate amount of lei. “Such a sweet young girl. Where did you come from, dear?”

My stomach twisted, and I did my best to keep the discomfort out of my voice. “Um… Further away. I left home, and stumbled across the village while looking for somewhere to camp.” I didn’t see the point in correcting them and starting up a whole new conversation that they likely wouldn’t or couldn’t want to understand.

“How unfortunate. We’ve been having a lot of problems lately, miss.” The man said, counting up his lei.

Tch. Did they have to keep gendering literally everything they say?! Geez.

“Like werewolves?” I couldn’t help but smirk a little. “Well, it’s definitely a step up from where I came.”

“I suppose so. Especially with special treatment from the merchant.” The man sniffed, flinching when his wife elbowed him.

“I’m sorry about that. He didn’t get enough sleep last night,” The woman apologized, handing me the lei.

I nodded, smile tight and strained. “No problem! I do hope you get to feeling better.” I handed them their items and swallowed hard. “Have a wonderful rest of your day and good luck fixing your fence!!”

They waved me off, and I slunk back into the caravan. I knew the village definitely had a few gossips, but I hadn’t imagined it would be so annoying. I had already heard some adolescents talking about how funny it was to see a woman with such short hair and a flat chest, chattering about my partner and I… I’d argue that the most dangerous thing in this village wasn’t the werewolves, but perhaps the strain on the villagers that had them biting at each other’s ankles… Or mine, at least. Maybe they’d eventually warm up to me like they did The Duke though. Even my partner was having an easier time settling in to it all.

I guess I just felt out of place. The only time I did feel right was when I was curled into The Duke’s soft side, my hand entwined with my primary partner’s across his ample belly, their soft breaths lulling me into a comfortable slumber.

My ears perked as the door to the back of the caravan opened. My primary partner stood there with a broad grin, eyes shining. “Hey there, dear!” They said happily. “We have a surprise for you. Well, Duke does, I’m just happy and along for the ride!”

I cocked my head. A gift was certainly something to perk up the mood--and The Duke was certainly top tier at finding the perfect gifts… Who knows what he may have brought?

Speaking of The Duke, he leaned on his cane as he squeezed into the wagon. “Hello, my dear boy!” He said happily. His words sent flutters of delight through my stomach, making me smile. “I’ve got a bit of a gift for you. Something you’ve mentioned a few times. I hope you might like it!”

I stepped forward, eyes glinting curiously. The Duke turned a bit, shutting the door to the wagon behind him. When he turned, a small black box was in his hands, seemingly procured from thin air. Without skipping a beat I came closer, feeling my cheeks pinken with shyness. “What is it?”

“Well, you’ll have to open it to find out, won’t you?” The Duke smiled broadly, holding the box out.

I took the box from his hands as he sat down, my partner bouncing with giddiness. I carefully unfolded the top, seeing that whatever was inside was wrapped in deep red satin, the color of blood. Fitting, for the village. Gingerly, I pulled the satin back, curiosity thrumming through my fingers.

I gasped.

A little vial, full of clear liquid, and a set of alcohol swabs, syringes, and band-aids.

It couldn’t be.

“Is… Is this…?” The words were so small in my throat, barely breaking out of my mouth.

“It is.” The Duke nodded, clasping his hands together and smiling softly. “Testosterone.”

Tears sprung to my eyes, a laugh emerging unbidden from me. Ever since I had come out, I had wanted to transition--but I had never had the opportunity in my old abusive home, and I imagined somewhere out here would never hold the chance either. I had dreamed of the changes for so long--a deeper voice, bottom growth, body hair, facial hair… Hell, even building more muscle easier so I could achieve the musclechub look I had always been enamored by!

“How did you do it?” I choked out, pressing the back of my hand against my watery eyes. My primary partner was at my side, arm around my shoulders. They planted a kiss on my head, holding me tight.

“Why, I can procure any goods I need!” The Duke laughed heartily. “It is only a matter of time before an item is in my hands. And now it’s yours, free of charge.”

I sniffled. “Duke… I don’t know what to say. This is amazing. This is my greatest dream. Thank you. Thank you so much!” I handed the box to my primary partner and ran to him, throwing my arms out. He leaned forward, hulking arms wrapping into me and pulling me into him. “Thank you!”

“Of course, my dear! Anything for you.” He planted a gentle kiss on my forehead as he pulled me up to his chest. “And I know from our conversations about hormone replacement therapy before that you had concerns about vaginal atrophy and hair loss. Remedies for those are on the way as well!”

“You are amazing.” I said breathlessly. After all the abuse my primary partner and I had endured over the years, I never could have imagined that we would have ended up in a place so terrifying and yet...so safe. So like home. A place where dreams could come true.

“Well thank you, my dear. The customer is always right!” He said cheekily.

My primary partner approached, holding the box as if it were the most prized thing in the entire world. “My good sir,” They said with a flourish. “I believe it is time for your first injection of boy juice!”

“Boy juice.” I repeated. “Wow.” Then took a deep breath. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

“Let me administer the first shot for you, to show you how it’s done.” The Duke said, lowering me into the seat next to him.

I nodded, suddenly feeling my palms get sweaty. “Yes. That sounds nice. I’m a little scared of the needle.” I laughed nervously. “Hey hon...you think you could hold my hand?”

My primary partner nodded, fingers intertwining with mine. “I’ll be right here.”

The Duke took the box, balancing it on top of his belly. Carefully, he loaded up the syringe with the testosterone, making sure to get the air bubbles up and load the approximate dose. “Now now, my boy, the friend I got this from let me know that this is a subcutaneous injection, and we’ll be starting off with a lower dose to start, and then you can choose if you want to go lower or higher from there. If we can get a bit of your blood later, I’ll have another friend of mine run tests on it to make sure it’s safe.”

“Wow, you really can do anything and everything…” I smiled, shaking my head in disbelief. “You’re incredible, Duke.” I lowered my pants, revealing the skin on my thigh.

“Perhaps so, but you must know that you are just as wonderful. It is a pleasure to get to share my life with such a wonderful man.” The Duke said pleasantly, swabbing some skin on my thigh. “Truth be told, I had grown a bit lonely myself. Having you two as companions and then something more… Well, I have to say it’s the happiest I’ve been in a long time.” He sighed. “Ah, to love and be loved. One of life’s greatest joys, right next to lei.”

My primary partner grinned. “Always with the lei.”

“I’m a man who knows what he wants in life!” The Duke tapped the syringe with one finger. “Now, are you ready?”

I looked to my primary partner, feeling as if some holy light was glowing behind my eyes. Starting now, I would be transitioning. I would be something new, something self made. I would be myself. They squeezed my hand, nodding encouragingly. “You got this.”

I took a deep breath. “Alright, Duke. I’m ready.”

#the duke #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 #the duke re8 #the duke x reader #the duke x oc #duke x reader #writing #my writing #fanfiction #transmasc #trans #trans man #transitioning #hrt #hrt testosterone #transgender #fat reader

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please-buckme · 4 years

Note

pt 2 of the metal arm where he fucks the reader!

The Metal Arm. (Part 2) Anakin x reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Anakin has a huge dick, vaginal sex, this bitch is hurtin

1809words

It’d been months since you last saw Anakin. Once you’d returned back to the Temple it was almost as if nothing had happened. You both went to the council, told them of your heroic duties and that was it. There was no after-meeting hookup or stolen glances, nothing.

You did hear that Anakin had gone on quite the lengthy mission with Obi-Wan but other than that you had no idea where Anakin had been, for all you knew The Chosen One was dead. You knew he wasn’t dead though, the whole galaxy would hear of Anakin’s death. Thinking about what a big deal he is made you sick. Even after you’d played with him a bit you still hated his guts. If it weren’t for that beautifully crafted hand of his you never would have let him touch you like that.

No one knew of your deed either. It surprised you how proud of the situation Anakin was. That he’d gotten you off just with his fingers. The only way to swear him to secrecy was to tell him you’d return the favor if he kept his mouth shut.

“You mean you’ll actually let me fuck you?” He asked.

“If that’s what you want.” You replied.

Anakin smirked at you, leaning in to whisper, “If you thought my fingers were good just wait. I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll forget your name.” He stood still smirking down at you before exiting the ship. In all honesty you’d forgotten your name just by his words alone.

You had to admit you’d been a little anxious as to when the name-forgetting sex was going to arise. Much time had passed and you’d forgotten all about it.. until.

“The mission went very well. Both me and my troops made it back in one piece and I'd say we handled things in a permissional manner. We almost weren’t ready to come home.” You joked trying to level with the men of the council.

“That’s wonderful to hear. We are all so proud of your growth as a Jedi and a leader.” Master Kenobi smiled at you, making you smile as well. “And Anakin?” He asked, a puzzled look spreading across your face.

“Um, wh- what about Anakin?” You asked. Shit. had they found out about what you’d done together so long ago?

“You haven’t spoken with Anakin?” Master Plo Koon wondered.

“Should I have?” Your heart was racing.

“We told me to reach you hours ago. That boy he never learns.” Master Kenobi says, frustrated as usual. “Well when you do see him it’ll be on a mission in the next few days, alright?”

“Great.” Is all your voice would allow.

“All right I believe we’re done here. Once again great job and good luck on your next mission, you’re going to need it.” Obi-Wan winks at you before exiting and going the opposite way of you.

The good news, you weren’t in trouble and they hadn’t found out about Anakin totally wrecking you, the bad news, Anakin was back and looking for you. It took you no time to realize where he would be.. waiting for your arrival.

‘I know you’re here Anakin.” You shout, your voice echoing but to you, “The council said you were looking for me.” You sigh before continuing, “Well here I hhh-” Anakin came up from behind you, covering your mouth. He scarred, having panic run through your body until you’d realized it was indeed Anakin.

Anakin here’s you straining in his hand and he lets it drop from your mouth, “What the fuck, Anakin? You almost gave me a heart attack.” When he came up behind you he wrapped you up close to him. You tried your best to escape from his grasp. His grip became tighter around your waist, making you grunt in pain. He used his now free hand to pull your hair back, exposing the skin of your neck. Wasting no time you fit his teeth on your neck.

“Anakin, what are you doing?” Still squirming to be set free.

“Taking what is now.” He says between gritted teeth.

You laugh, “And, uh, what might that be, Skywalker?” The squirming stilled as you leaned into him, now embracing his warm touch.

“You know.” He says making his way to your earlobe before sucking on it, making you gasp.

You clear your throat, trying to sound less unsubdued, “Hmm, I don’t think I do, Gonna have to refresh my memory.”

Anakin smirks against your neck, “I can do that. Don’t move.” He releases you from his grasp to remove his glove. Of course you take off. If he were going to fuck you it’d be on a bed, so that’s where you led him. “Get back here.” He growls.

“Come with me, Skywalker.” You spun around still walking, backwards now. You extend your finger out in a ‘come here’ motion. The look on Anakin’s face would have frightened you in any other setting but for this particular instance.. It excited you.

When you finally reach the bed you sit patiently waiting for Anakin to catch up. Once he gets there he pushes you back forcefully, admitting a gasp to fall from your mouth.

“Oh Gods,” he says while ridding you of your pants and underwear, “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted you these past months.” When he finally tugs off the remaining material under your legs he spread then, wide. Anakin dipped his head between your thighs inhaling your scent as you watched. “Did you miss my fingers, (Y/N)?”

A sigh leaves your lips as his cold digit circles your clit, “Gods yes.” Anakin lets out a raspy groan before lowering two fingers into your dripping core. An involuntary moan escapes past your lips as he pumped them slowly, letting you adjust to their thickness.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you everyday since we last met. The thought of you cumming all over my fingers never leaves my mind.” Anakin’s voice was smooth with lust, adding another finger, “Fuck my fingers look so good in your pretty pussy.”

“A- Anakin, oh gods.” The feeling of your walls closing in around three of his fingers hurt, “Anakin that hurts.. please.”

He brought his flesh hand up to pat you on the head. “Shh it’s okay. You did such a good job last time.” He lowers his hand to your mouth as he inserts two fingers, the sucking distracting you from the depleting pain between your thighs. “ besides, you’ll be thanking me for stretching you out. My cock is way bigger than three fingers.” You gasp. Would you be able to take Anakin the way he wanted. It scarred you but at the same time it made you mentally drool.

“Then stretch my fucking hole, Anakin.” He gave you a devilish grin before pumping his fingers hard and fast inside you. Your back arched off the bed as the pain turned to pleasure.

“My cock is gonna feel so good in that tight pussy.” Anakin returns his face to your core, attaching his lips to your clit, fingers still pounding inside you.

“Oh shit,” you yelp. “Anakin I’m gonna fucking cum, I’m gonna fucking cum, oh my god.” You Anakin nod against your clit as you come undone around his fingers once again. You’re high leaves you breathless and seeing stars. “Oh my god” you whisper in the midst of your high. “K- kiss me.” You say needing to feel some sort of connection to him.

Anakin removes his lips from your pulsing clit to join your lips in a hungry kiss. You moan against his lips now tasting yourself on his breath.

Anakin pulls his hand from your core and you can hear him remove his pants and them hit the floor.

Being the curious and cautious person you are, you reached down to feel just how big Anakin actually was. When you grab what you thought to be his leg you were shocked to find that wasn’t the case. “Oh fuck, Anakin. You really want that thing inside me?” You joke.

He smirks down at you, “more than anything, (Y/N).” You pump him slowly as he sheds his pants completely. He brings his hips closer to your wet pussy, the head now poking at your entrance. “Are you ready?” He asks hesitantly.

“Fuck me, Anakin.” You say pulling him back down into a kiss.

“Yes, Ma’lady” He says on your lips. His cock slowly pushes into you, making your breath hitch in his throat. He groans a raspy groan when he bottoms out inside you, “You feel so fucking.. good. Let me know when to move so I can fuck the shit out of you.”

To Anakin this felt amazing but for you.. it was a whole nother story. He stretched every inch of your delicate pussy. Tears started brimming your eyes as you sobbed slightly. “Does it hurt, baby.”

“Y- yes but I like it.” You say huffing out a breath, “move slow, that might help.” He did as you asked, removing himself completely at an excruciating slow pace before diving right back in. It hurt a little less every time and after a few more pumps you were ready. You wanted to be nice and fucked though.

You wrapped your legs around Anakin tight and filled him over, him now laying under you. “Okay Anakin, fuck me.” The smirk on your face quickly guys away as he props you up on his legs as fucked up into you. “Oh Gods,” You couldn’t help the vulgar screams leaving your mouth as he filled you up complete with each thrust.

“You feel so good, (Y/N)! I’m gonna cum soon.” Anakin informed you. Without words you brought his finger, a metal one, to your mouth sucking on it before lowering it to your clit. Anakin immediately took over drawing skillful circles over your clit.

Everything felt so good that you couldn’t help the tears that tan down your face. The feeling of ecstasy hit you before your high did, “You are so beautiful, (Y/N).” Anakin says from below you. “Let me see you cum again, babe. I want to feel you cum.” A few more involuntary yelps leave your lips as you finally climax around his thick cock. “Yes!” Anakin shouts as you tighten even more around him, spiking his own climax.

He rode out his high inside of you, neither of you moving from the position until your body had had enough. “Oh god.” You say laying down beside him.

“I know.” He says kissing your forehead, then turns you over, now spooning you which you didn’t mind given the moment you just shared. “Oh yeah we have a mission together.”

“Thanks for letting me know.” You say before drifting off to sleep.

Masterlist

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#big dick Anakin #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #fanfic #star wars #anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #smut #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker reader insert

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lilytriestoexist · 4 years

Text

R0wan? More like Row(neck)beard

This is all @bleeding-star-heart ‘s fault (tumblr refuses to let me tag this one blog for some reason, sigh), they challenged me to do this and I can’t turn down a challenge. Alas, I have no art skills, but I am marginally better at writing, so here is my contribution to the great Uglification of YA Book Boyfriends/Bad Boys movement.

Warning, it gets a bit NSFW at one point because R0wan is ~horny~. It’s not explicit or anything, and since we’ve all read Sarah Janet’s atrocious sex scenes, I assume it won’t be a big deal, but in case it is, here’s a warning.

Rowan had a problem.

He bit his lip and glanced behind him, through the ajar door of their bedroom, where Aelin’s slim form was outlined by the rise and fall of glossy silk, the sheets brought up to her chin as she tipped her head back against the pillow, hair a golden halo around her. In sleep, the sharpness in her face seemed to ease, accentuating her youth. Gods, she was so young. And already she was set to change the world. It was the greatest honour in the world to be by her side as she did so.

Only...would he be by her side? Would he be there, watching as the gilded crown was set onto her hair, watching as she turned to face the adoring masses, watching as she fulfilled her destiny and ruled as queen? He eyed the mirror, running hasty hands through his white hair, tracing the smooth, hairless jut of his jaw. Eternity was a long time, far longer than any one person could truly comprehend. And people had a tendency to grow, to change. He couldn’t guarantee that he and Aelin would change together. He couldn’t rule out the possibility of one day waking up and realising he no longer recognised the female laying beside him.

Ideas crowded his mind, ways to keep Aelin alert, to keep her wanting him and to keep him wanting her. He considered shifting his body parts, perhaps acquiring Fenrys’s hair or Dorian’s eyes or Lorcan’s physique, but dismissed that thought almost immediately, a shudder running up his spine. Tapping his foot against the cool bathroom floor, he stared into the eyes of his mirrored self. His hand drifted up to trace the words and symbols inked across one half of his face, a habit he had embraced as the years had flown by. It was calming, to let the quick instinct in his fingers take over, letting his brain rest. They slowly traveled downwards, framing the outline of his throat, the protruding lump, the cords of his neck.

And suddenly, he had a thought.

He examined the smooth, tan expanse of his neck, pressing his palms against the warm curve, pinching and pulling his skin. He’d cut his hair short before, shedding long white locks in favour of a shorter, more low maintenance haircut, but he had no idea of knowing if that would hold Aelin’s favour for any longer. What if she didn’t even like short hair? Rowan worried at his full bottom lip and, before he could overthink and hesitate any longer, ran a single index finger up his neck, from the tip of his sharp collarbones to the centre of his chin, and willed his magic to follow his unspoken command.

It was instantaneous, the growth of hair, following the path his finger had laid out for it. White strands began blooming from beneath his skin, shooting upwards to about an inch long before halting. He swept his finger from side to side, expanding the single line of hair, until it was a thick, healthy bush of white, encompassing the entirety of his neck. When he pressed his hand into the beard, it was a strange, fluffy sensation, but it filled him with inexplicable warmth. The corners of his lips stretched upwards as he surveyed the finished look, admiring the beard that now swallowed his neck and was beginning to creep up over his jaw.

Aelin can’t possibly say no to this, he thought, striking a few poses and positively grinning with pride at his new feature. His whole body was tingling with anticipation as he walked back to their bedroom, a bounce in his step as he bent over and gently shook Aelin awake. With any luck, they’d be entwined beneath the sheets within minutes, and he swallowed as images filled his head of the wonders his neckbeard could do when his mouth devoured her, what kind of pleasure it could bring his mate when he buried himself inside her.

“Aelin,” he whispered as her lips began to part. “Aelin, wake up.” His fingers trembled with excitement as he used his free hand to stroke the neat bush of his beard.

“Rowan?” she asked, arms coming up to stretch out the fatigue as a yawn escaped her lips. Her eyes opened, and he smiled as she took in the change.

The smile dropped from his lips when she let out an ear-splitting scream.

“Aelin!” he yelped as she practically flung herself out of bed and to the other side of the room. “What are you doing? What’s gotten into you?”

“What’s gotten into me?!” she screeched, pointing a single shaking finger at his exquisite, beautiful neckbeard. “Rowan, what in the name of the Gods has gotten into you?”

“This is my neckbeard!” he snapped, affronted. “Are you implying something, oh great Queen of Terrasen?”

“I’m not implying something, I’m stating it outright,” she shot back. “That neckbeard is the most gruesome and atrocious thing I’ve ever had the misfortune of seeing. I wish Maeve were here to gouge out my eyes so that I would at least not have to continue seeing that monstrosity on your neck. I would not mind if Erawan came and obliterated you into smithereens, because at least your Gods-awful neckbeard would be removed from this forsaken world.”

Rowan flinched with every harsh insult Aelin hurled at him. “It’s not that bad,” he protested, hugging his arms around his chest and dipping his chin, nestling it in the comforting cushion of his neckbeard. “You don’t have to be so mean about it, anyway. A simple ‘I don’t like it’ would have sufficed.”

“I don’t like it doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings about that...thing,” Aelin deadpanned. Her hand came up, fingers curling, and a flame bloomed from the pale skin of her palm. “Rowan, this is for your own good.”

And then she threw it.

On instinct, his hands flew up and the air in the room jumped to his aid, swirling into currents of manipulated wind in front of him and extinguishing the fire his mate had just thrown at him. The brief flash of overpowering heat in his face told him just how close it had been, and he stroked his neckbeard, reassuring himself of its survival.

“I...you just threw fire at me.” Fear, anger, hurt, and a myriad of other emotions warred in his voice.

“It’s like I said,” Aelin replied, shoulders rising in a shrug. “It’s for your own good.”

He shook his head and took her in, the long hair tumbling down her back and front in loose golden waves, the smug upwards tilt of her chin, the eyes he had loved so much staring back at him without a hint of remorse. She had tried to burn his neckbeard, his most valued asset and prized possession, had tried to incinerate it, and did not care in the slightest.

Rowan had always feared a gradual deterioration of their relationship. Hadn’t he said not so long ago that one day he might wake up and not recognise the female next to him? It just hadn’t occurred to him that the day he had been dreading might come quicker than he’d expected. He looked at Aelin, his mate, his wife, and saw nothing he could love.

“No,” he said, and Aelin’s eyes narrowed.

“No, what?” There was a sharp, low note of warning in her voice.

“It’s not for my own good,” Rowan said, burying his fingers in his neckbeard. “You’re not for my own good, Aelin.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re just tired, Rowan,” she said, easy smile gracing her lips. “Come back to bed. We’ll sort it all out later in the day. And we can do other things as well, after that.” Aelin smoothed down the skirt of her short nightgown and winked.

Usually, that would’ve sent him diving straight into bed. But now, he looked at her slim waist, long legs, and suggestive smirk, and felt only the faintest stirrings of what used to be a wildfire.

“You’re not good for me, Aelin,” he repeated.

Her eyes darkened. “Come back to bed, Rowan,” she said, kindness draining from her voice and replaced with pure steel. He shook his head, and she sighed. “Remember, I love you. I’m doing this for you.” Her hands began to rise, flames beginning to pour from her palms.

“I’m doing this for me, too.” A single, massive gust of wind shattered the yellow-stained glass of their window and he dove for the opening, avoiding the fireball blazing in his direction and shifting into his hawk form. In a piece of glass, he could see thick white fluff underneath his beak, and found solace in the fact that his beloved neckbeard was with him wherever he chose to go.

“Rowan Whitethorn, get back here this instant!” Aelin shouted, and he could feel the approaching warmth behind him. Rowan served to the side, wings outstretched. He could feel the coolness of the air caressing his feathers.

Aelin continued yelling, but her voice grew fainter and fainter as he soared into the distance. He had no idea where he was going, where he could even go, but all he cared about was putting distance between himself and the woman who he’d risked his life for, given his heart to, wanted to swear his existence to. What a fool he had been, to love such a person.

He flew, and then he ran, and he did not look back. And when he faltered, when he stared at his shaking hands and dared to consider returning, he only needed to find a mirror and stare at the thriving forest of hair beneath his chin. His faithful neckbeard, who gave him strength, who showed him nothing but love and loyalty.

And against all odds, Rowan Whitethorn and his neckbeard lived happily ever after.

#anti rowan #anti rowan whitethorn #rowan with a neckbeard #rowan whitethorn with a neckbeard #um...idk man

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loveafterthefact · 4 years

Text

Love After the Fact Chapter 56: Sex Education Part 1

In which Thace is medically certified to run a sex ed program and Keith is an unwilling pupil with a splash of Galran societal norms and pressures

Warning: Discussions of sex, but like, from a health perspective

First Previous Next

“Mnh?” Keith’s eyes flutter open, heart sinking at the empty space beside him. Straining his ears, he can’t hear his chosen mate. He’s alone. It’s an awful feeling, sudden, sharp. Before he even realizes it, he’s chirping, calling for Lance to come back.

Startled by the intensity of his reaction, Keith cliches his jaw, keening softly in his throat. He doesn’t want anyone thinking he’s in trouble. He feels like he's in trouble; he knows he's not. Curling tight into a ball, a purr starts thrumming deep in his throat, his body's attempt to soothe his distress.

“Keith?” A mercifully familiar scent reaches Keith’s nose. “Was that you, kitten?”

“Momma?” Hunkered down in the bed, Keith peeks his head from beneath the blankets. He’s behaving like a very young kit, he knows, but he can’t help it. He feels lost, alone, abandoned.

“Hey, kitten.” Krolia sinks down on the bed, running a hand over the top of his head. She’s wearing a shirt and pants instead of armor, accentuating her slight frame. Keith looks so much like his mother. He doesn't mind. “Lance asked me to come check on you. Said you had a hard night.”

He had had a hard night. He woke up twice with growing pains, an indication that he’s actually starting to grow. Still, there’s only one thing on his mind right now. “Where’s Lance?”

“The compound. Allura called for him. Something happened this morning; we don’t know what.”

“Is she okay?”

“All I know is that she spent the night with Romelle, then sequestered herself to her own room, asking for her brother.”

“I hope she’s alright.” Keith closes his eyes, allows his mother to continue petting his head. “Momma?”

“Yes, kitten?”

“What- What’s happening to me?” Krolia’s presence isn’t helping soothe his distress.

“If I had to guess?” She shifts her kit’s head into her lap, doing the best a mother can do. “You’re bonding to Lance. I know you haven’t mated, but you’re very close to maturity, and your attachment to him is strong.”

Keith gulps, detecting the edge in his mother’s voice. “Please don’t be mad.”

“No, kitten. I’m not mad. But you’re my baby, and the idea of you having no other choice than this hurts me.” A sigh. “Accepting any less than the best for you is hard.”

“I do have a choice. Lance has given me every choice he possibly can.” Keith knows his mother’s doubts. “I chose him because- because he cares. He cared about me before he even knew me. And he cares for our people and wants to learn more about them. You don’t even know him, Mom. Please give him a chance.”

“Alright, kitten. For you, I’ll give him a chance.” Krolia goes easily, not wanting to cause her kit any undue distress. He’s experiencing more than most thanks to his abnormal childhood and growth, and a barb of guilt creeps ever deeper into her chest. “We should take you back to Thace. I want to make sure your bonding process isn’t due to any developmental problems. Besides, you need an exam anyway. It’ll just be a bit earlier than usual.”

“Okay.”

At the clinic, Thace is only just getting his materials together to start the day. “Oh, hey guys. How are we doing this morning?”

“I’d like you to give him an examination,” Krolia murmurs. “His development appears abnormal.”

Thace frowns, normally cheerful face creasing with worry. “Abnormal? How so?”

“He-”

“I seem to be bonding to Lance,” Keith grits out, displeased at everyone making fuss and speaking for him. He really needs to learn how to advocate for himself. “Which would be totally fine, were I anyone else except myself.”

“No, it wouldn’t be,” Thace argues, scurrying around to gather a few supplies, wash his hands. “You’re at an extremely delicate point in your growth. Anyone experiencing early bonding should at least be interviewed, and anyone with a growth disorder should be examined. It might indicate abnormal physical or hormonal development.” He turns back to Krolia. “You are still his parent. How many chirps before I release him?”

“Twice, and you’re done. More than that, and I’ll-”

“Whatever you’re about to do, I’ll be fine. Advisor Krolia will go and inform Crown Prince Lancel of where I am.” Keith draws himself up, poised and formal. Pulling the prince card isn't something he enjoys, but it's the only thing that might possibly help him wriggle out from under his mother's coddling thumb. He loves her, looks up to her, but her coddling is damaging to his image.

He hates that he even has to think of such a thing.

The two both nod, even though his mother’s eyes narrow. He’ll take it. Only one person is allowed to coddle him, and he’s not here right now. Krolia heads off reluctantly, leaving Keith alone with Thace.

“What are you going to do?”

“Scans, blood, and then a visual and manual examination.”

“Examination of what?” Keith can guess, but he wants confirmation.

“Your genitalia. This examination is to assess your reproductive health.”

“... This is going to su-u-u-u-ck.”

“Yes, but it is important. For anyone, not just a prince.” Thace guides him into a dimly lit room with another scanner. There’s a reclined chair in the middle with footrests at the bottom and a spotlight above. Totally not ominous at all. “Before I was offered the emergency medic position here, I specialized in sexual health, with an emphasis on final growth development.

“If so many are going to push themselves to the limits of their reproductive capabilities, I might as well make sure there’s someone competent to look after them. For you, for our futures and the futures of our children, it would be an honor to make sure you are healthy and well.”

Thace helps him into the chair, types settings into a panel on the scanner. This one has an arm that hangs down, instead of rising from the floor. Keith bites his lip, staring at a probe on the counter. “But do you have to-”

“In your case, yes. Premature bonding isn’t rare exactly, but we still want to make sure there’s no underlying cause. It could just be that you really are that fond of Lance, or you could be having some kind of hormonal or anatomical complication.”

Awesome.

“Will it hurt?”

“I’ll have to stimulate certain nerves, so it will cause discomfort-” The scanner hums, the curved arm spinning around Keith. “That discomfort will be fleeting, and the very last part of the exam. After that, you’ll be all done… I will not harm you, Keith, nor do anything to damage you.”

Keith nods, trusting Thace to mean it. He’s a kind, gentle soul, one held in fond regard by all who meet him. Plus, Thace is a bearer with a mate and kits. This won’t be enjoyable for him either.

“How can you do this?” Keith asks, genuinely curious to know as he watches his friend clean a patch of skin at the crook of his elbow and tie a thick elastic band around his arm. He winces at the snap. “How do you conquer your instincts so you can touch me?”

“It was something I struggled with, to be sure, but having a defined purpose helps.” Thace pulls out a needle with a thin tube attached, and a few vials. “I'm one of fifteen siblings. When I was growing up, my parents taught me that it was my duty to find a mate and have as many kits as possible, starting with my first season. And that’s what I knew. It was fact. An incontrovertible truth. That was how I could serve the empire: ten years of service, and a kit every season until my body gave out.”

“So when I went to school to be a medic, and I learned how much strain our culture puts on bearers, and sires to a lesser extent, I was… horrified. Frightened. I didn’t want to waste away, or be left with no quality of life. I wanted my life. I wanted to have something for myself. I realized that, because I too am a person, I deserve the same as anyone else, regardless of my sex.”

Keith stares at the blood pouring into the vial. He can empathize with Thace. He feels the same pressure, has felt it ever since Shiro brought him to the mountain, felt it more and more since moving to Altea. It keeps him up at night, weighs heavy on his thoughts. The burden of other peoples’ expectations.

What if he can’t bear enough kits? Will Lance be disappointed in him? Will he still want him? Alteans don’t necessarily mate for life. He's well on his way to belonging to Lance forever. What if Lance can't give him the same? He sighs, stares at his blood pooling in another vial.

“I chose to deviate from my original plans. I left my chosen mate right before my first season, deciding she was too forceful and domineering given what I wanted for myself. I spent that first season alone at a friend’s den. Ulaz’ den, actually. He was unmated, but I trusted him to keep me safe, since I wasn’t his. He looked after me while I recovered my strength, and… I ended up staying.”

Thace removes the last vial and needle, rubs Keith’s skin with alcohol, wraps some gauze around his arm. He places the vials into a machine, typing in a series of commands. “I made the decision to study reproductive and sexual health. I wanted to do whatever I could to keep people healthy, even if they were putting so much strain on their bodies. Later, when Ulaz was stationed here as part of the Imperial guard, I elected to come with him. I put my life’s work on pause so our family could stay together and so we could complete our required service concurrently. When our service is completed, he will likely stay with the Blades, and I will go back to my work.

“While your tests are being done, we can do the rest. Then we’ll talk about the results… Prince Lancel should be here for that part. It will pertain to him as well.” The medic slips his hands under Keith’s shirt, prodding at his soft tissue. The younger Galra winces, discovering sensitivity he hadn’t realized he had.

“How?”

“Because he has absolutely no fucking clue what he’s doing, like most sires… Now, a common issue seen in Galra with growth disorders is that their mammaries don’t develop. I’m seeing that here. You've clearly got some sensitivity, but I'm not feeling anything as well-developed as I would expect... It’s not surprising, or concerning, but you won’t be able to nurse.”

“Oh.” Keith’s ears wilt. “Okay.”

“I know it’s disappointing for you, but from my perspective, it’s a good thing.” Thace smiles. “Your body does not have the resources to fully complete your final growth spurt. That’s just the facts. So what your body is doing instead is allocating resources where they’re needed most. It’s prioritizing child-bearing over nursing. That’s actually what I want to see in your case.”

“It’s not like Galra milk would be enough for my kits anyway. They’ll need formula to get the proper nutrition.” Hybrids nearly always do.

“They almost certainly will, since your biology and Lance’s are so very different. Your rather unsettling attendant has already tasked me with coming up with a few suggestions for formulas that might be suitable... Can you remove your pants, please?”

Keith removes his pants, reluctant and anxious, but knowing that this is something every kit endures during their final growth spurt. Thace gently nudges his knees apart, makes a soothing noise in the back of his throat as every muscle in Keith’s body instantly tenses.

“If I bite you-”

“I’m asking you to defy the basic instincts of our species. If you bite me, I’ll take no offense. I wouldn’t even call it even.”

For that, Keith clenches his jaw, muscles jittering beneath his skin, claws digging into the arms of the chair. He knows he doesn’t want to hurt Thace, even if his body wants it very, very badly. The medic touches him with a probe three times, once slipping inside, deftly reaching clusters of nerves Keith's always known he had, but never had use for. The probe vibrates, only for a tick, but it’s enough to have him yelping, hissing, ears pinned tight against his head. It hurts, has him baring his teeth at his friend.

“That’s it. We’re done.” Thace pulls a thin blanket over him, rubs his ear. “I’m so sorry, little one.”

Closing his legs, Keith hisses at the adult Galra again, painfully aware that he’s still not quite grown. Said adult Galra only persists in his ministrations, working at that ear until Keith’s settled. “I know, I know. I suck. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t say you were sticking that thing inside me,” Keith grumbles.

“Would you still be sitting there if I had?” Thace raises an eyebrow at Keith’s scowl. “That’s why we don’t say it. Be lucky I didn’t have to check your prostate.”

“Not comforting, dude.” Keith snuggles under the blanket. “It’s gonna make it weird when we come over for dinner.”

“Only if you make it weird. For me, this is just work.”

"What do people normally say when they find out that you look at sex organs for a living?"

"Well, they never say thank you, that's for fucking sure. Ingrates." Thace goes back to the blood testing machine, scans the results. “Yes, I definitely need to speak to both of you. But while we wait for Prince Lancel to get here, there are some things we can talk about just us… Have you experienced any arousal? Erection? Vaginal secretions?”

“Not… exactly.” Keith shifts in the chair, remembering that kiss in the rain. “Maybe… a little?”

“What did you feel?”

“Like a tingle? Or maybe an ache?”

“Vaginal?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. So that’s also good. What that means is that your body is priming itself for the bearer role. Since your mate is male, we would expect the female parts of your reproductive system to respond automatically. If both, or your male parts responded, it might cause some concern.”

“This is… so much.”

“Yes, it is. You are a very complicated person, Keith. Inside and out.”

Keith nods, preoccupied. Teasing the end of his braid, he finds the courage to ask, “Why do you need to speak to Lance? Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all. But from your test results, I can tell that you are in the process of bonding, which is premature. There’s nothing wrong with your bloodwork or your scans, so I’m not worried, but it’s time to have those uncomfortable conversations.”

“This is already an ‘uncomfortable conversation’,” Keith bites, feeling a little petty. Okay, maybe more than a little. But he's more than earned it, so there.

“We need to have a serious discussion with him, make sure he understands all of this from a medical perspective.” Thace makes a few notes on a datapad. “So since you are priming for female reproductive behaviors, you may need to stimulate yourself manually if you wish to achieve an erection. You should be able to, and perform like any other male should you wish to. I’d like you to attempt that before leaving Daibazaal, even if not during coitus.”

“Seriously?” Keith rolls his eyes. That's just unnecessary.

“Seriously. To completion. Reproduction is complex, yours more so than most. It’s important to make sure everything is functioning properly. Besides, Lance might like it.”

“This is the worst conversation I’ve ever had. I just want you to know that.” Stupid Thace and his progressive attitude toward sex talks.

“Yes, I imagine it is. But important for your body and mind. And it’s important for Lance to learn, too, since he is already instrumental to your health and well-being.”

"I hate that you're right."

"That poor boy is in so far over his head. Wait until you have to explain gender identity to him."

"He needs to explain gender identity to me! Alteans are so. weird. You have no idea!" Keith curls up in the chair. "Apparently there's this thing where 'normal' people are either female women or male men, and then anyone who doesn't adhere to that is 'abnormal'."

Thace frowns, utterly baffled. "That's so... primitive. What's the correlation?"

"Not sure. Apparently, on Altea, there is one."

The adult Galra shakes his head. "His brain is going to short-circuit. Oh! I forgot to tell you!" Thace's face breaks into a grin. "My oldest, Mashan? A girl!"

"Hey, that's great!" Keith shares his friend's excitement. It's always a joy when a kit determines their gender.

"Yeah... Gods, I'm so proud of her. Fuck, Keith, before long, I'm gonna be chasing people away from her!"

"That's what you get for making cute kits. What's the phrase? Reap what you plant?"

"Reap what you sow. And that's so unfair, blaming me for passing on my hotness to my kits."

"They certainly don't get it from Ulaz."

Thace gasps, ready to rise to Keith's playful tease, when Lance arrives. He looks tired and sad. Eyes red, scales dull, pale-faced... It seems they're both having a difficult morning. Krolia stands just behind him, face studiously passive.

The Altean surveys the scene before him, eyes travelling about the room, lingering on Keith's pants rumpled on the floor.

"What, the fuck, is going on in here?"

It's going to be a long morning.

#LoveAftertheFact #LAtF #klance #galtean au #altean lance #galra keith #adashi #altean adam #galra shiro #voltron legendary defender #vld

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purplesurveys · 4 years

Text

979

survey by xalikattx

FOOD

What is your favorite salad dressing? I’m not really familiar with most of them as I only consume one type of salad and the recipe for that usually calls for mayo and some kind of spicy sauce. I guess that’s my favorite dressing by default.

Favorite sit-down restaurant? Yabu for days. I personally don’t think that will change for me. Mama Lou’s is also nice but its crowd can be so boujee it kills the dine-in experience for me.

Favorite pizza topping? I’m easy to please; I just like my pizzas cheesy.

What food could you eat for two weeks straight and not get sick of it? Fried chicken sandwiches.

What do you put on your toast? Butter is fine with me. I don’t really eat toast.

What food do you eat the most? I have rice in every meal.

Do you like food? Yes.

Do you LOVE food? Yesssssssssir. I have my preferences and things that I don’t like but I’m not picky for the most part, and I love being adventurous with the foods I try.

Do you even eat at all? ...What kind of question is this

What do you put on your ice cream? I never customize my ice cream. I usually consume ice cream however way it’s already served.

Do you like steak? For sure.

Or are you a vegetarian? No.

How about a vegan? No.

What food do you hate the most? I’ve never learned how to appreciate kakanin, which is a group of a variety of sweet rice cakes that we have in Philippine cuisine. This has definitely caused my Filipino card to be revoked in the past lol, but ugh the texture is just so slimy and I hate how, even though we have so many types of kakanin, they all just taste and feel like sticky, chewed-up rice doused in sugar and coconut flakes. Korean rice cakes taste so much better.

TECHNOLOGY

How many TVs are in your house? We have four. Two downstairs, two upstairs.

Do they all work? I think the one in my brother’s room has stopped working but we just never get around to throwing it out because of the possibility of it getting fixed someday.

Do you have Comcast digital cable? I don’t know what that is. Probably a US thing? In that case we don’t. We used to have cable TV but my dad ceased our subscription a few months ago because no one in the family has been watching the TV for cable anymore and he got sick of paying for something that we don’t even avail of; we all stream our shows and movies on Netflix now.

AT&T Uverse? Definitely no AT&T on this side of the world, so no.

Dish Network? No.

Something else? Obviously.

Nothing? Again, it was a local cable provider but we’ve since cut off our subscription.

What's your favorite show? Of all time, Breaking Bad. Currently, it’s The Crown but I’ve been such a bad viewer at the moment; I stopped watching at some point a few months ago and haven’t gone back to Netflix since, welp.

What's the worst show? I don’t objectively know what’s the worst one out there but when it comes to my personal preferences, I’ve just never seen the appeal of shows targeted to teenagers or a younger demographic in general, like Teen Wolf, 13 Reasons Why, Riverdale, the TV adaptation of Scream, etc. Of course, this is just my own taste and I certainly don’t judge people who enjoy these shows.

What color cell phone do you have? The official name is Space Gray but that’s too fancy so let’s just call it black.

What kind? iPhone 8.

What does the first text message in your inbox say and who sent it? So I scrolled all the way down to the bottom of my text threads and the last person on the list is Ate Frances, and she was just telling me to check my Messenger because she had sent me a question regarding an event our org was holding at the time.

What was the last text you sent and who did you send it to? Gabie. I simply said “hi.”

Who was the last person to call you? My mom.

Who was the last person you called? Gab.

CURRENTLY

Are you missing someone? Yeah but let’s not get into it.

What are you listening to? I can hear rain pouring from outside my window.

Watching? It’s mostly background noise because I’m focusing on this survey, but I have on a YouTube video playing.

Worrying about? Work. I was tasked to think of PR executions for a client over the weekend and I just really really dislike it when I’m assigned to something that forces me to brainstorm, so ugh. Wish me luck because my brain juices have been feeling weak all weekend.

Where are you? I’m in my bedroom, my favorite place to be these days.

What's it like there? Lonely, but it’s quiet and comfortable. I used to avoid my bedroom all the time everyday because it makes me depressed, but now I am depressed and prefer to stay here all the time too.

How are you feeling? A little sad but I think tonight’s one of the nights I can fake it a little more easily, which is decent enough for me.

Is anyone with you? Who? Just Kimi.

Are you hungry? I haven’t had an appetite in a while. No.

What do you want to eat? I’m not craving anything.

Thirsty? I’m good, thank you.

What do you want to drink? I might end up drinking some of the plum soju that’s been in the fridge for months tonight, even though I told myself I wasn’t interested in touching it lol.

What time is it? 6:58 PM.

LASTS

Thing you ate? A tuna empanada.

Thing you drank? Pretty sure it was just water.

Thing you said? “Go, pee” It was to Kimi as I set him down on the balcony.

Movie you watched? I’m Thinking of Ending Things. Ugh, I really should watch a more light-hearted movie soon because this answer is such a depressing one and I’m tired of mentioning it.

Store you went to? What did you buy? Grocery store; dog food.

Person you talked to? My sister.

Person you hugged? I think it was Gabie.

Kissed? Also her.

Yelled at? I haven’t raised my voice in a while. I don’t remember anymore.

Book you read? Midnight Sun.

Thing you touched? Other than the keyboard, I pushed up my eyeglasses.

Person you became friends with on Facebook/Myspace/whatever other site? [continued the next day] A co-intern, Justine, added me on Facebook. I honestly don’t see the point of being Facebook friends because we’re bound to part ways and never encounter each other again after our internship...but I guess it’s nice to have friendly co-workers.

RANDOM

Are a righty or a lefty? Righty.

Have you ever had anything removed from your body? Just a decaying tooth, but otherwise no organs or anything larger.

What is the last heavy object you lifted? Does Cooper count? Little man has been getting so big over the last few weeks. He’s finally getting the growth spurt that we’ve been waiting for :’D But I don’t really do heavy lifting around the house, so.

Have any scars? Sure.

How did you get them? Any interesting stories? Most of them are scars from childhood falls, because I was the clumsiest kid in the neighborhood and tripped and scraped my legs at least once every time I played outside. There’s a scar on my left eyebrow from an idiot cousin who had been out to make me blind, and then there’s the self-harm scars as well.

if it were possible, would you want to know the day you're going to die? Yes. It’s one of the things I’ve always wanted to know.

If you could change your name, what would you change it to? I’m happy with mine. I’m not five anymore.

Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000? If it was like sriracha then yeah. Not willing to do anything overly hot, though.

How about 10 bottles of ketchup? I’d be more enticed if you offered mayonnaise, but even then I think such a feat deserves a higher prize than $1000.

10 bottles of maple syrup? Thinking of how thick that is already hurts my throat. Pass.

A bottle of vinegar? HELL no.

10 jars of peanutbutter? HELL yes but again, I’m gonna be asking for more money lol

How many pairs of flip flops do you own? A couple. They’re not my favorite things to wear so I don’t feel the need to collect a lot of them.

Favorite month? April because birthday month; December because even though that’s when my depression strikes the hardest, everyone else is caught up in the holidays and that allows me to guiltlessly cut off contact with people for a few weeks.

Do you always answer your phone? If you mean calls, then no. I do not pick up if it’s an unknown number, but after rejecting I immediately text them asking who they are and what they’re calling for. I just feel like it’s proper etiquette to text before you call, especially if you’re reaching out to me for the first time.

It's four AM and you get a text message, who is it? Gabie for sure. She’s on the graveyard shift, so it wouldn’t be a surprise.

If you could change your eye color what would it be? I’m okay with mine, but if I got reincarnated as a foreigner I’d love to have hazel eyes. They look very pretty.

Do you own a digital camera? Not anymore. My phone camera can take good enough photos.

Do you take lots of pictures of yourself? Hell no.

Do you take them in front of the mirror in the bathroom? Nope.

Have you ever had a pet fish? I had several goldfish as a kid, yes.

Pet hamster? Nope. That’s mostly a Western thing too I think; I don’t think I know anyone who’s ever had a hamster.

Bird? We had lovebirds before; they were so low-maintenance and made for such sweet pets.

Rabbit? Yep. Tobi was a bit of a handful, but I loved him all the same.

Iguana? No.

Favorite Christmas movie? Love Actually and It’s A Wonderful Life.

Favorite Christmas song? Probably It’s Beginning To Look a Lot Like Christmas. It’s so soothing and yet makes me feel festive and excited for Christmas.

Can you do push ups? I can, doesn’t mean I’m good at holding myself up ha.

Can you do a chin up? I can but I hate those.

Does the future make you nervous or excited? Both.

Ever been in a car accident? Just minor ones.

Do you have an accent? I think everyone does. I’ve honestly never understood this question lol, if I go to a different country or continent, people are always going to have an accent in my ears. Even in my own country, I can think of a number of accents I’ve heard people speak in.

What song always makes you cry? 26 by Paramore.

Have any plans for tonight? Rest my tired head.

What were you doing at 12 AM last night? Talking to Gabie.

What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up? Ugh, Monday.

#survey #surveys

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stillness-in-green · 4 years

Text

The Remedy for Wrongs Is Forgetting (Revised)

I cleaned up and revised the fic I posted before for AO3, mainly by adding an extra 800 words to it. For those who would like to read it there, you can find my AO3 link via my about page. For those (like myself) who would just like to see it in the character tags, here’s the newly completed version, now featuring more highly vague references to Vigilantes canon and yet more details about how I imagine Shigaraki and Kurogiri’s pre-BNHA timeline.

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

He wakes to a harsh white light above him and a voice that reaches into his gut and says, Master.

What the voice actually says is, “Oh, you’re awake. How marvelous. Then it’s time for you to get started.”

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

Kurogiri is, according to the Doctor, not intended for fighting, but for rather for defense, service, and discretion. The Doctor’s experiments are taking up more of his time and growing more sensitive in nature. He will not run the risk of being caught at this stage—and it wouldn’t hurt to have someone around who can ensure he’s eating. Kurogiri is apparently something of an experimental model developed to serve the Doctor’s immediate needs and his streamlined functions compared to the Doctor’s other subjects made his construction comparatively simple.

“How do you feel about that?” the Doctor asks him with an intense stare.

Kurogiri considers the question. The idea of helping people seems—correct. A fact that curls up in his heart and rests there, warm and at peace.

“Lucky,” he answers. “Like I’ve been given a purpose I already meant to pursue.”

The Doctor chuckles.

“I knew I’d picked a good one.”

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

The Doctor shows him how to order food and look up recipes online, the basics of using any kitchen appliances he doesn’t already recognize, and some brief instructions about not mixing household cleaners. He’s prepared a spartan bedroom in which he spends his resting hours.

Truthfully, he spends most of his time in the lab, watching Noumu being sculpted into existence from broken people, growth acceleration quirks, and a battery of audio-visual conditioning that sings with familiarity from the very first time he overhears it. It’s comforting, in its way—a structure to lean on in the knowledge that he, too, must have been pieced together out of bewilderment and ruin.

They do say that art is an expression of pain, after all.

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

The Doctor experiments on children. This is a fact that sits, cold and hard, at the bottom of his throat. Kurogiri tells himself, The Doctor experiments on everyone.

Somehow, it doesn’t quite feel the same. Watching a wailing boy shy back from his mist leaves Kurogiri with an acute awareness of pain squirming over his shoulder, disembodied, disassociated, but inarguably present all the same.

It doesn’t, of course, stop him from carrying out his orders. But the dreams he has afterward—dreams of white clouds and laughter, and a familiar curl of warmth in his heart—leave him privately grateful when the lab is back to housing only its adult monsters.

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

The Doctor has a patron, it seems, a master of his own. Kurogiri is told in no uncertain terms that All For One is now his highest authority, a man whose orders are to be heeded as one heeds the laws of physics.

All for One is broad-shouldered and celebrity-handsome, with an easy, roguish smile and sharp, bright eyes. In photographs, he’s striking, but not, for the age of heroes, uniquely so. In person, however, the man is a force of nature, cloaked in a power that enters the room before him and lingers after he leaves, palpable as the mounting pressure of a thunderstorm.

He is affable, and charming, and promising the man his service is the easiest thing Kurogiri has ever done.

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

“You should see him trying to be good with kids,” the Doctor tells his patron as they amble into the kitchenette from the lab later that evening. “He’s downright chatty! It might even work, if it weren’t coming from—” He breaks off to gesture at Kurogiri, who gives them a shallow bow and holds out a cup of coffee towards All for One.

“Hah.” The man takes it, tipping it in Kurogiri’s direction in thanks, and sips from it with an appreciative gleam in his eyes. “Well, good manners are a virtue. Though, if you say he’s good with children…”

The Doctor quirks one heavy eyebrow at his patron, then the other lifts in realization as he begins to laugh.

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

Shigaraki Tomura is a quiet, sullen child of ten or so, a bundle of nervous tics and resentful neuroses, but he is not afraid of Kurogiri. It’s a pleasant change, and pleasant as well to have a place to exist outside the lab complex, though Tomura is a bit nocturnal for Kurogiri to see much in the way of blue skies.

He makes a project of cleaning up the wreck of a bar beneath the boy’s room. He dusts and polishes, sweeps, takes stock, disposes of wine bottles with rotted corks, and wrangles the space back into presentability. It takes the better part of a year—he’s only infrequently asked to watch Tomura, when All For One leaves on business he doesn’t deem fit for his ward’s attention, and much of the work of cleaning must be redone with each visit.

After three visits’ worth of circular exchanges and locked horns about basic upkeep, Shigaraki Tomura teaches Kurogiri how to steal.

That’s not entirely accurate. The act itself is simple enough, their quirks being what they are. It would be more correct to say that Shigaraki Tomura teaches Kurogiri how to choose to steal.

They make an exploratory foray into the drug store two blocks down at three in the morning. Kurogiri, on edge from the departure from the spaces he’s permitted to be in, stands at the counter, mindfully keeping a dark portal swirling in front of the security camera, and watches the boy work. He shuffles down the dim aisles, plucking snack foods, sugary drinks, magazines and toiletries off the shelves and depositing them into a shopping cart, two fingers of each hand always carefully raised. At the front of the store, the glass cases containing alcohol, tobacco products and video games—and thankfully Tomura is only interested in the latter—present Decay not even a whisper of difficulty. When he’s finished, he pushes the cart with all its ill-gotten gain back through a portal to the bar and gives Kurogiri a grin of triumph and satisfaction—the closest thing to a real smile Kurogiri has yet seen on his scarred face.

“See? Easy.”

It leaves Kurogiri in quite a thoughtful frame of mind and he and Tomura alike bask in the glow of All For One’s warm, proud laughter when he returns and listens to the story over the bar’s first official drink.

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

The Doctor, when Kurogiri returns, snorts at the tale and says with a tsk, “You’ll spoil him.”

“Shall I refrain next time, then?” Kurogiri asks, tilting his head. He hopes not—he’s come to a tentative arrangement with Tomura about the boy decaying his rubbish in exchange for meals that take longer than three minutes in the microwave.

“The little brat’s not my project; so long as you’re following All For One’s wishes for him, I don’t care how you treat him.” The Doctor waves one hand as he stands from his desk and turns towards the darkness of the lab. “Now come along; you know how the work piles up when you’re away.”

“Of course.”

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

Five years later, when All Might crushes All For One’s skull, all of Kurogiri’s arrangements collapse.

The Doctor works night and day, electric with his terror of being discovered, of losing his patron. He snaps and barks, refusing more than the most basic nutrition. On one particularly fraught occasion, when Kurogiri tries to pull him away from the sixteenth straight hour of staring at his computer combing through his archived research, he snarls a word that Kurogiri doesn’t even have time to consciously register before the blackout fells him where he stands.

Shigaraki Tomura takes it even harder, dissolving as Kurogiri watches into a seething, rancid, rabid creature fueled by spite and fury. He claws his skin until blood runs freely, mutters and paces and screams demands. His bedroom descends back into squalor; one evening after Kurogiri makes him particularly angry, he decays every single bottle of alcohol at the bar, leaving behind a reeking mess staining the shelves and pooling on the floor.

Kurogiri—who’s sent reeling by a nauseous wave of déjà vu every time he so much as looks at All For One’s bandaged head and still form—rededicates himself to his core principles of defense, service and discretion, and does what he must to keep the other two alive.

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

All For One stabilizes, though he’s weaker.

The Doctor stabilizes, though he’s more paranoid.

Shigaraki—stabilizes, though he’s considerably less stable than he was before a few months prior.

Kurogiri recalibrates to the new normal. It’s something like stability, he supposes.

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

“Kurogiri, I need you to look after Tomura,” All For One says, not long after he regains consciousness. “Indefinitely.”

The Doctor opens his mouth—The work piles up when you’re away, Kurogiri remembers—but Kurogiri is already nodding his assent.

“Of course, sir.” Helping Shigaraki Tomura will not be easy, but Kurogiri appreciates projects and the thought—helping someone—rekindles a little of the old glow, a forgotten sense-memory from whatever lost soul he was before being reborn.

“He’ll complain about the babysitting, you know,” the Doctor says, but his earlier protest has already subsided and his tone is one of resigned acceptance. All For One chuckles, then hisses in pain.

“Yes, I’m sure he will. Nevertheless. My timetable has just gotten more pressing.”

“That’s the broken ribs, old friend.” The Doctor sighs. “Kurogiri, go and pack your things, what you have of them. All For One and I have some private matters to discuss.”

“Of course, sir.”

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

He warps into the bar that night. Broken glass litters the floor and dust has begun to build up on the bar once more. The door to Tomura’s bedroom upstairs hangs open; sounds of video game violence crack and burst through the silence. Dancing light filters down the stairs, glittering and gleaming in the shards of broken bottles.

In its own way, it’s beautiful, unintended art in the expression of pain. But there’s such a lot of work to do, too, to make such craft sustainable.

Kurogiri sighs, turns on the lights, and gets to work.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #kurogiri #shirakumo oboro #shigaraki tomura #all for one #ujiko daruma #my writing #ficcing #bnha spoilers #bnha

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in-tua-deep · 5 years

Note

Hi! Ok so I'm totally taking you up on your offer and gonna send in some stuff! So, I did a rewatch recently and took a few notes (mostly following 5 bc his concept and interactions are just so fascinating to me) and I noticed some stuff! 1] none if the kids have practically ANY physical interaction unless it's a fight or Allison and Vanya. Idk about you, but to me, that implies an oddly formal relationship even tho they're family and makes 5 and the handler that much stranger (1/?)

(2/?) And gives it that much of a contrast. I think someone on here counted that she touches him like 20 times or something? Idk BUT 2) there is such a clear divide between the “older” and “younger” siblings bar Diego and Klaus that it almost feels like 2 different families at times and it’s really interesting! 3) only 3 siblings have canon PTSD flashbacks/visions if we exclude Vanya during her breakdown: 5 and Klaus obviously, but also Allison, which is really interesting and plays into how

(3/3) Her growth bc of Claire. 4) 5 had to see his dead siblings, we know this, but he was also the one holding the cloth over Allison’s neck when Vanya attacked her, which is a horrifying detail but I love it. 5) there were 2 extra seats at the dining table in the flashback of all the kids! It’s probably not important, but with the shows attention to detail I can’t help but wonder. Also I’m sorry I just completely dumped on you but I wanted to know your thoughts 😅😅 that and I love your metas

yeAH my sister pointed out to me at one point that the Hargreeves familiarity with violence was alarming in that a lot of their physical interactions with one another were… violent. Diego fighting with Luther at the funeral. Klaus smacking Five across the face at the eyeball place. Luther choking Klaus. Luther choking Vanya. Ben punching Klaus. Like genuinely a concerning amount of their interactions with one another involve some form of violence oof and none of them really apologize for any of it either. It’s accepted and made to seem almost normal which says all manner of bad things about their family dynamic rip

BUT they also have interactions I feel are at odds with that - Vanya taking care of Five’s arm, Diego tying up Klaus to detox, Klaus attempting to comfort Luther even after literally just being smacked around by him, Diego with Klaus at the vet bar, Klaus and Five’s conversation on the steps of MeriTech where Five tells Klaus about Dolores - just these soft in between moments where they look after or confide in one another

and all of those moments are private, they’re one on one whereas in a group they tend to fight and put up walls and argue which says to me that collectively the family wasn’t allowed to show weakness (thanks Reggie) and so they fight in order to protect their weak points before anyone can attack them

there’s like, the four A’s of how people handle conflict and one of those is aggression. It’s attacking because you feel like if you aren’t on the attack then you’re the one being attacked. It’s raising your voice and being the aggressor and starting conflict because you’re trying to protect yourself, because you’ve learned that it’s kill-or-be-killed and if you aren’t on the offense then you’re being hurt (i know there’s avoid and appease and i can’t remember the other one off the top of my head whoops)

so what i’m saying is that when there’s witnesses, when there’s a group, they’re on the offensive from the start. But alone, there’s a little more wiggle room for weakness. Alone is at night when there’s no training left in the relative safety of their own rooms. Alone with one other person is private, and privacy is safety in a house like that.

So there’s this paradoxical roughness and softness with one another, they were in competition with each other no doubt but they’re also family. Reginald pitted them against one another, but there’s no possible way to keep walls up ALL the time, you know?

but yeah i have a lot of feelings about the kids interactions with one another to say the least u picked a topic i like to ramble about as is clear from all this text and i didn’t even talk about the handler and how i feel like her touch was with the primary motivation to make Five uncomfortable and to punish him for his rebellion

okay there is more to this ask and this response is going to get so long I can already tell sorry in advance

and yeah the divide between the siblings with ‘older’ and ‘younger’ siblings is interesting!! Luther-Diego-Allison are one-two-three and are sort of purposefully portrayed as the older siblings. I definitely think Luther and Allison were off in their own little world as kids and they were definitely the golden children, the good kids, the ones who didn’t really question their father and avoided a lot of punishments. They were set apart from the rest of the family - and I think a lot of that was on purpose.

Because Reginald Hargreeves pitted these children against one another, in a move that honestly was smart even as it speaks to the fact that he’s a horrifying human being: because if there is discord among the ranks and rivalries and pettiness then the kids aren’t banding together against the true threat in the household - they’re going at one another’s throats instead of Reginald’s. The rivalry between Luther and Diego is probably the clearest portrayed tbh but Five was clearly also held up as someone to beat, someone who was competition (”he ADAPTED”)

so it’s almost like there are three groups really - the ‘good’ kids, the middle kids, and the disappointments. You have Luther and Allison at the top, Diego and Five and maybe Ben in the middle (and Five is only in there because he’s too headstrong, too willful to be at the top because Reggie doesn’t appreciate those that can think for themselves), and then you have Klaus and Vanya way down at the bottom. And there’s crossover relationships between the tiers (Diego and Luther’s rivalry, Five and Vanya’s solidarity, Klaus and Ben being bros etc.) but they were divided up on purpose tbh

alright moving on i could yell about how reginald fucked up a bunch of perfectly good kids all day lmao but

Allison is such an interesting character in general??? like she’s not even in my top three for the show but damn if tua doesn’t have some seriously interesting characters in the show hot damn like her journey from petulant and manipulative child familiar and comfortable with violence to an adult trying desperately to piece her family back together and prove to herself that she can be the good mother she desperately wants to be to Claire

i feel like i yell an awful lot about luther and allison for someone who has them towards the bottom of their list of favs tbh whoops

also GOD how dare you remind me of Five’s Extra Trauma regarding that scene holy heck like is wasn’t enough he had to find his siblings dead bodies in the apocalypse he also has to press his hands to his sister’s throat and literally see the life fade from her eyes as they rush to save her?? like shit man and that’s a concept that i haven’t seen anyone really do anything about as well like actually @ authors who aren’t me bc i have a dozen other aus to write on top of my various ideas, someone please address this

also do you think that’s the reason that Five initially agrees to killing Vanya at the bowling alley?? because he’s thinking about Allison’s blood hot against his hands and he missed the entirety of the apology/Vanya freaking out scene???? I mean even though I yell about Five’s motivation being his family I don’t think it was out of character for him to turn on Vanya because in his mind stopping the apocalypse has become so entwined with saving his family that they might as well be the same goal

if it helps though i don’t think five would ever actually kill Vanya even if he did okay the plan like look the boy could have jumped behind vanya himself and snapped her neck like did you WATCH the fight scene in Griddy’s holy shit but he does Not do that because he doesn’t want his sister to die and he especially doesn’t want to be the one to kill her and that’s the tea on that

alright where was i

HMMM i dunno if there was any significance to the bigass table other that i mean,, technically there are two other family members?? There’s Grace and Pogo if you count them, but i mean otherwise I think it’s just a feature of a mansion to have a bigass dining room table that can’t possibly fit the entire family

so maybe it was a statement about Reginald not considering Grace and Pogo to be members of the family and excluding them

or maybe it’s just a rich people table lmao

but i really enjoyed all your thoughts and observations 10/10 feels free to yell at me again ;3c

I will admit that i’m a bit of sham because i’ve only seen the series like,, one and a half times?? like once all the way through and then watching the first few episodes again and then jumping around the random points to fact check or other things oops but i do plan on rewatching sometime when i actually have free time to spare!! only a few weeks until the end of the school year oof

#ask me #embersofstardust #far tua long #tua #the umbrella academy #luther hargreeves #allison hargreeves #diego hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #number five #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #reginald hargreeves #tua spoilers

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hannahmcne · 5 years

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Her Royal Highness - Chapter 4

Mal's door remained unlocked, but she didn't go anywhere except down the hall. Mainly because she couldn't remember where she'd come from and a piercing headache had started in the front of her brain, right behind her eyes. So, she hung out in her room. Not long after Ben left, Sophia came around and brought paper, writing utensils, books, and a little list filled with lots of numbers.

"What's this?" Mal asked, as she rubbed her head and squinted at the writing. She recognized the names written on the sides of the numbers, but her head still didn't feel like it was working correctly.

"A list of important phone numbers for the palace," Sophia answered. She had a tea set on the dresser and was preparing a cup for Mal. "My number is on there too." She said as she added a small pill to her cup, which fizzled into the drink and disappeared.

"What do I do with them?" Mal asked. She sounded flat-out exhausted as she tried to focus on the paper.

Sophia chuckled and took the list out of her hand, replacing it with the tea, which Mal stared blearily at in confusion. "For your headache," Sophia told her. "Drink up. Where is your phone?"

It was lying on the bed, locked. Sophia handed it to Mal, who quickly entered her password and then gave it back because the light hurt her head even more. She took a sip of the hot drink Sophia had given her and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. "Oh gosh." She moaned as her head cleared. "This heals everything."

Sophia opened the text app with a chuckle. While Mal finished her tea, Sophia entered her phone number and set the message 'Mal Bertha'.

"Look, Mal. Now you can contact me." Sophia explained to Mal, showing Mal her own phone screen, which had lit up with a green notification with her name in it.

Mal looked at the screen and watched as Sophia showed her how to label the number with a contact so that she'd know it was Sophia.

"Why are there two keyboards?" Mal asked, noticing a different panel at the bottom of the screen. She pointed to it so that Sophia could see what she was talking about.

"One is a picture keyboard." Sophia simplified. "There's a bunch of faces and animals and stuff. Want to see?"

Mal shook her head. Eventually, she'd be left alone, so she could explore the picture-keyboard then. She observed in bleary exhaustion as Sophia entered in a new number and sent her name through. This time, a little grey text box appeared with three dots in it.

"They're messaging back," Sophia explained to Mal, gesturing to the box.

'Ben Florian' was the name that came back. Mal frowned. "Is that Prince Ben, Ben?" She asked.

"Yes." Sophia nodded and watched Mal to see what her reaction would be.

"Oh," Mal replied lamely. The phone buzzed in Sophia's hand. A moving picture had appeared from Ben. It featured a middle-aged man with a friendly smile, who was waving with the caption: 'Hi'.

Sophia continued adding Belle, Adam, Lumiere, and a few other people. One of these was named Doug. When Doug first received the message with Mal's name from Sophia, he immediately texted back a paragraph. There wasn't much meat to it. It was basically "If you need me, come ask" "Sorry if I take a while to answer texts."

Sophia was very kind to keep Mal's saucer topped with headache remedy, but eventually, she had to slip away to refill the pot. Mal, who felt much better, took the books Sophia had brought and began to fill her little bookcase up. She discovered a surprise: a thick, white comforter hidden underneath the pillows on her bed. She traded her shock blanket for it and took the paper and pencils Sophia had brought her. Then, she hid out in the closet, which she liked because it wasn't as bright, and it was a smaller space. She did keep the door cracked open a stitch, so Sophia wouldn't wonder where she'd gone if she came back.

Mal liked to doodle. She'd done more than her fair share of graffiti on the Isle, decorated their hideaway behind the rock-pulley system, and spent a fair majority of her time in class drawing on scraps of grey paper. It was nice to work with all the new utensils instead of the emptyish ones she got on the Isle. As she was finishing putting the finishing touches on a rendering of her new home, the castle, she heard a knock at the door. She pushed the closet door open a little with her toes and called: "Come in!"

The door opened and revealed a woman who Mal had seen many times on TV. She cautiously climbed to her feet.

The Fairy Godmother flashed a beautiful smile. "Hello, Mal." She greeted, then curtseyed. "I'm the Fairy Godmother. I've been told you aren't what we were expecting."

The Fairy Godmother wore a blue dress with a retro collar and a pink bow fastened beneath her collarbone. Underneath her skirts, Mal could see the edges of a black and white polka-dotted fabric attached to the bottom of the knee-length dress. She wore blue plastic flats and wore her hair curly with a pretty silver clip in it.

Mal swallowed and managed a small bow, of some sorts. "It sounds like you were expecting Hades himself." She said softly.

"Not Hades, but a mini-Maleficent, perhaps." The Fairy Godmother's smile faded a little as her eyes began to travel. Mal shifted her weight and began twirling a lock of hair around her finger as the older woman studied her.

"White isn't really your color, is it, dear?" Fairy Godmother asked with a smile.

Mal smirked. "Just don't put me in yellow and we'll be fine."

Fairy Godmother laughed. "How old are you, dear?" She asked.

"Sixteen," Mal answered, leaning against the closet frame and kicking her leg up to rest against the doorframe. At her answer, the Fairy Godmother looked sad.

"My, you're much younger than I was expecting." The Fairy Godmother whispered. "You're about the same age as my daughter Jane."

"What are you here for, again?" Mal asked. This conversation was going way off track, in her opinion.

"To talk, mostly. I was curious, have you experimented with your mother's magic yet?" Fairy Godmother sat down on the bed and examined Mal even further.

The question startled Mal. Of course, she knew her mother had possessed some of the strongest magics in the land before her imprisonment. The fact she had created and executed this elaborate mess was a testament to that. But the idea that she would have similar powers hadn't occurred to her. The only thing she'd ever been able to do was make her eyes light up.

Fairy Godmother chuckled. "I suppose not, then? Can you try now? Do you know any spells?" Mal shook her head. Everything her mom had once crammed down her throat and into her head felt like years ago now. "Make something up." Fairy Godmother encouraged her. She bit her cheek as she crossed her ankles daintily and waited.

Mal raked her newly not-aching brain and quickly made a flimsy rhyme. "Snap my fingers like a thread, hurry to fix the hair on my head."

Upon her words, her fingers took a life of their own. A sharp green light appeared at the end of her fingernails. She flicked her hand left, then right, and then made a little circle around her face, all against her will. Her vision went green and foggy for a few seconds, and then she felt the strands on her head rearranging and straightening themselves into something that hopefully didn't look like she'd had a mental breakdown earlier and lost her cool at the future king of Auradon. Mal slumped back in exhaustion as soon as she had control of her hand back.

The Fairy Godmother applauded lightly. Mal stared in surprise at her fingers, and then quickly turned her attention back to the Fairy Godmother. Conversation now, panic over new revelation later.

"Well, Auradon discourages magic, I'm sure you know. You might be able to find books in the library to teach you about theory and things like that, but active practice is a punishable offense, usually with heavy fines and sometimes community service. And of course, spells work better if the lines match syllables, and if they're in multiples of three, seven, or with the same number of beats as your age." Laugh lines appeared in the older woman's face as she smiled proudly at Mal. "But, laws aside, you could very powerful one day, even without practicing magic. I hope you'll recognize that and use that power for good."

Mal had no clue what she was going to do at that point. She was still blown away that her first feeble attempt at a spell had worked.

The Fairy Godmother cleared her throat. "If I may, can I sample your magic? If there's any correlation to Maleficent's, it might help with decoding her curse. We have already sampled former cursed items, but it appears in different… context on Ben." She gestured to Mal's hands.

Mal swallowed and nodded. "Yeah. Anything to get me out of this mess." She outstretched her fingers and walked towards the Fairy Godmother.

At her words, the Fairy Godmother looked incredibly sorry. She took Mal's hand and spread her fingers out. She began to mumble, and the tips of Mal's fingers relit. A warmth spread through her palm. But the Fairy Godmother quickly let go. She shook her head. "Your magic is the same type hers is, but it's far too weak at the moment to be able to unravel her curse. It's also slightly warped."

"Warped?" Mal asked, alarmed. How could it be warped? She'd cast one spell her entire life and now she was damaged forever. Just her luck.

"It happens naturally." The Fairy Godmother assured her. "Everything in the world has a little magic, and your magic grows depending on where you live and how you use your powers. I bet the barrier over the Isle is what warped it the most." Fairy Godmother shrugged. "Anyways, we can't have you help us break it yet until you're a little stronger."

"How long will that take?" Mal asked.

"Well, you should have been growing your magic at a steady rate for several years now." Fairy Godmother explained. "For you to recover and exercise your magic enough to gain enough power would take two or three years of intense magical growth, which you won't be able to get in rhabdophobic Auradon."

Mal slumped her shoulders in disappointment. "Alright." She mumbled. Fairy Godmother patted her cheek.

"Cheer up dear. We'll figure this out. For now, are you alright? I heard you had a panic attack today. Has that happened before?" She folded her hands in her lap and tilted her head.

"Yeah, I did," Mal admitted. "And no. I've never had anything like that happen. I just, the walls felt like they were going to fall in so I went into the closet to hide."

"And couldn't stand up?" Fairy Godmother prompted, looking worried.

"Or hear or move or anything." Mal agreed. "It was like my brain was shaking and my body went stiff." The Fairy Godmother examined Mal as she moved her hands in explanation. Mal carefully sat down next to the wingless-fairy.

"Before then, had you eaten or drank anything?" The Fairy Godmother asked.

Mal shook her head. "No. Well, I had some candies on the way to the palace this morning, but nothing else since lunch yesterday. I missed dinner because my mom decided to inform me that I was leaving."

"That would play into it. You probably didn't sleep all that well either, huh?" Fairy Godmother nodded as if this all made sense to her.

"No," Mal admitted sheepishly.

"We have panic attacks like that at the school every year when finals roll around." The Fairy Godmother informed her. "People forget to take care of themselves. We get panic attacks and people passing out when they're exercising, among other things."

"Oh. So, I just need to keep on top of that?" Mal asked.

"That should do it. Of course, if it persists, see a doctor." Fairy Godmother smiled.

Mal made a face, and the Fairy Godmother laughed. A silence formed for a few seconds. The Fairy Godmother looked around the room. "Did you really not know you were coming here?" She asked quietly.

Mal withdrew into her frame and clammed up. "She sat us down in front of the TV and wouldn't say a word on why she was so excited. When they finally brought Ben out of his meeting with you and King Adam gave his statement to Auradon, she told us in celebration while she was dancing around the room. None of my friends or the other villains had any idea what to think. No one talked to me all day."

"So, it wasn't exactly a surprise when they showed up?"

"Well…" Mal trailed off. "I don't know. It all went so quickly." The Fairy Godmother crossed her legs and leaned forward to Mal. She waited until the purple-haired girl began to speak again. "I was angry at first, but then I managed to convince myself she'd been lying. I mean, Mom's had tons of elaborate plans to leave before. But when I came back they'd already packed up my things for me and the guards showed up about five minutes later to drag me away."

"On behalf of Auradon, I apologize." The Fairy Godmother whispered softly. Mal snapped into an upright and hostile position and furrowed her eyebrows at the Fairy Godmother.

"You'll apologize for this and not for the Isle of the Lost?" She accused. The Fairy Godmother looked taken aback.

"Why should we apologize for the Isle of the Lost? We had to protect ourselves from the villains." She explained with confusion evident in her tone.

"I find it funny," Mal said bitterly. "How you fought an entire war where both sides lost thousands of people and still refused to use the death row to eradicate the problem. It's your fault I'm here in the first place. If you had killed Maleficent, I wouldn't have to deal with this – this burden! Or if you had come up with a different solution to the Isle of the Lost: banished them outside the kingdom, removed their powers, again: killed them, then Mom never would have thought to create this spell in the first place. Who's to say it's her fault and not Auradon's?"

"We don't believe in killing or hurting people like that." Fairy Godmother explained to try and placate Mal. This only riled the teen up even more.

"And that's another thing!" Mal retorted angrily. "Auradon's famous honor code; despite the fact you imprisoned hundreds of your worst villains, murderers, and schemers on the Isle and refuse to provide them the basic essentials to life outside of the weekly trash delivery, you don't believe in removing a person's magic and allowing them to walk free for their lives? Haven't you heard what happened to Ursula's eye? Or my Mother's wings?"

The Fairy Godmother was silent. Then, she pointed at Mal's head. "Your horns, dear." She whispered.

Mal blinked in surprise. She cautiously reached up to feel the top of her head and fell two curved protrusions descending back into her skull. They felt like warm stone or ivory. But they were only there for a second, and then they were gone. She stared in shock at her fingertips, as if she were doubting what they'd felt.

Across the room, the door creaked, and someone knocked. Mal turned her sharp gaze to the entrance. After a few seconds delay, it opened a little more and Prince Ben appeared, looking sheepish. He cleared his throat and began to speak in a high, awkward tone:

"Erm, sorry, we're waiting for you in the library, and-"

"How long have you been standing there?" Mal interrupted his introduction. Ben wilted. Mal scoffed. "Long enough, then." She stood up and, after a moments' hesitation, took her new phone with her. Ben's face was red as she marched past him at a brisk pace. She stopped outside the door and pretended to wait for him and the Fairy Godmother, but truthfully, she didn't know where the library was.

Ben held the door for the older woman as she walked past, then took up the lead. Mal walked beside him. If she couldn't lead, she sure as heck wouldn't fall behind him. Ben curled and uncurled his hands like he wasn't sure what to do with them while they swung at his side.

Ben stopped outside of a pair of doors that were three times his height. Why anyone would need doors this tall, Mal didn't know, but she hoped some giant found them useful one day. Ben opened the door to allow the Fairy Godmother, who had remained silent during the walk down, and Mal, to walk through.

Mal sucked in a breath at the tall beams of the library. The ceiling was patterned opposite the floor, with the ceiling being the lighter inverse of the pattern on the floor. The room was a very large rectangular prism, with the wall ahead made of glass and looking out over the kingdom. The wall they'd just entered with their backs to had a beautiful mural of the castle, featuring a beautiful girl in yellow and a rose, among other things. It must have been the story of Belle and her Beast, Mal noted as she took in a ferocious, growling monster in a corner of the wall. The last two walls were made of books. Several other enormously tall bookshelves filled the magnificent room, but directly in front of her was a collection of rose-embroidered couches and chairs surrounded by a rosewood coffee table with dozens of papers and folders spread out on it. Belle and Adam were sitting in two armchairs and holding each other's hands. They looked up without a smile as the group entered the room.

"Come and take a seat." Adam invited in a weary tone. He raised a hand and beckoned the three towards him.

They did, and Ben and Mal ended up sitting next to each other on the two-seater so that everyone could examine them. Ben still hadn't said anything to Mal since telling her they were waiting for him. He twiddled his thumbs and did his very best to politely ignore her.

"We have about three months until Ben is due to become King." Adam began in a grave tone. "Mal has agreed to marry him, but only as a last resort. One of the new goals of this meeting is to ensure she is no more trapped than we are."

Everyone flinched at the King's harsh, straight-to-the-point words. Mal bit her tongue and examined the mural on the wall.

"The spell… it is too complicated to break at this moment." The Fairy Godmother admitted. "We don't know where to start." She picked up a manila file on the coffee table and opened it up. On the top was a black and white photo of what looked like a mess of spiderwebs.

"This is one micro-cubic traunct of the spell." The Fairy Godmother explained. She laughed at Ben's confused expression. "A traunct is the smallest portion of any spell. It's much like an atom in how magic is made up. Unfortunately, this one is, by far, the most complicated of any spell I've ever seen. In most cases, a simple undoing spell could sever small trauncts. However, Maleficent has done something rather unique in that these trauncts are backing each other up, and nothing we've tried thus far has severed their hold. We're going to have to unravel it or submit to it."

"Unravel it?" Belle asked.

"In order for us to unravel it, we have to find a hink, or a hole in the trauncts so we can loosen their hold and put them apart little by little. The spell won't be broken, per se, but we can pull conditions off the spell until eventually, it will be as though it has no power on you."

"Sounds like a lengthy process," Mal commented.

"It is." The Fairy Godmother admitted sheepishly. "I've never seen anything so complicated. We're looking at a year, maybe two years' worth of work."

King Adam made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded like the beginning of a groan, or like he'd been kicked or something; a defeated sound.

"There's no hope it'll be gone before Ben's coronation?" Mal begged.

"Unless there's a major breakthrough within the next ten minutes." The Fairy Godmother said. Mal turned her head away from the group and schooled her features to indifference. Ben leaned forward and started running his hands through his hair. The only sound was that of Mal tapping her hands on her knees.

"I think it's time to start talking about the kingdom's infrastructure when Mal becomes Queen." The Fairy Godmother said quietly. No one missed the use of the word 'when'.

"Right," Adam muttered. "What are the details of Maleficent's curse?"

"Mal must become Queen before Ben is twenty-five, otherwise the both of them will begin to experience excruciating pain. If Mal is murdered, then Ben will go with her. If she's maimed in any way that she's rendered unable to take the Queen's throne, the results will carry over onto Ben. She needs to have the ability to pass binding laws in Auradon and has authority over troops in Auradon's standing army." The Fairy Godmother rubbed the bridge of her nose as if to stem a headache off. "As far as Auradon's requirements go, Mal still has to pass the same tests Ben did. I can deliver them here if you would like?"

"Tests?" Mal asked.

"There's three of them," Ben explained. "I failed the last one due to this curse, but since it's consciously manageable, I'm still able to rule the Kingdom. Basically, the tests were made to answer three questions: Will you be able to rule the kingdom? Will you do it right? And is anyone controlling you?"

"Oh," Mal said because there wasn't much else to be said.

"Would you like to zoom through it?" The Fairy Godmother asked gently. "It probably wouldn't be worth discussing much more if you can't become queen anyways."

Mal shrugged. "Sure. Whatever." She turned her phone over, palm over palm, as the Fairy Godmother reached for a different, light blue folder.

"If you fail the first two, you will not be able to rule." The Fairy Godmother cautioned. Mal didn't seem concerned.

The Fairy Godmother withdrew a similarly blue-tinted paper to the one Ben had written on. Ben was especially anxious to see the results. He scooted forward on his seat to peer over her shoulder. As Mal scrawled her name on the first two lines, the entire room held its breath. Then it faded to blue, and the three royals and one fairy breathed a sigh of relief. Mal rolled her eyes.

Ben curled his nails into his palms as the Fairy Godmother asked Mal the second question. This, of course, was the goodness check. Belle and Adam both leaned forward in their chairs as the Fairy Godmother asked Mal to sign on the third line. Mal's hand hesitated on its way to the paper as she raised an eyebrow at the nervous royals. Then she scrawled her name and the date, and the black color changed to the same royal blue as the first question.

Ben sat back in cold shock.

This was Maleficent's kid, right? The mistress of all evil? The one who cursed Queen Leah's entire kingdom? Ben was dumbfounded. He glanced sideways at Mal and watched her tuck a lock of purple hair behind her ear as she chewed on her cheek and stared at the paper. Something softened in his heart and he had to look back at the paper to stop the awed smile from moving onto his face.

While he sat in his stupor, the Fairy Godmother removed all spells and enchantments from Mal, and then Mal signed her name. It came back red, just as Ben's had. The Fairy Godmother produced a gem, identical to the one in her office, and instructed Mal on how to hold it. She read the spell's aura quickly and determined it was the identical other half to Ben's spell.

And that was when Ben had another revelation.

Maleficent had raised a lady fit to be queen. He wasn't even sure Audrey would have been able to pass the test, cruel as she was. And extended from that, Maleficent had raised this girl while keeping in mind she would one day be his wife.

It couldn't have been Maleficent's intention to raise such a morally strong woman. Mal must have found the path of good herself while on an Isle where evil ran rampant. Ben was beyond impressed.

"We've talked." Belle began with a quick gesture to her husband and herself. "And we've decided to announce that Mal will be queen alongside Ben."

Fairy Godmother drummed her fingers together. "I think that's the right thing to do." She said finally. "Unless we wish to marry Mal and Ben and allow them to go their own separate ways?" She gestured to the two teens.

No one in the room had considered this alternative. It made the royals stop in their tracks.

The Fairy Godmother continued: "Of course, neither would be able to get married to other people until the curse is broken, if ever. So long as Maleficent's conditions are covered, they technically have their freedom."

Mal dug her fingers into her knees. Living alone in Auradon? That was a prospect she wasn't prepared to cover. She looked toward Ben to try and decipher his feelings. His eyes were wide; he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"We need time," Belle said quickly. "We don't need to make decisions like that so quickly. We'll let Ben and Mal be the ruler of that decision."

"But-" Adam continued. "We need to know by a month before the coronation. That's when we were planning on announcing Mal since we wanted to keep the press away from you while you adjust to Auradon and get to know Ben."

Belle nodded in agreement. Mal crossed her arms and leaned back into the upholstery. The king and queen were actually, by her book, being pretty fair. A warm feeling was rising up inside her chest. And before she could stop them, two words spilled out of her mouth.

"Thank you." Mal blurted out. "For being so fair." She pulled her arms tighter around herself and turned back toward the mural on the wall. The air in the room suddenly felt very thick with... what?

"You're welcome, dear," Belle replied as if it were no big deal.

The sun dipped lower and lower in the sky outside. At first, Mal had tried to follow the conversation, but then she'd gotten lost among all the legal terms and political abbreviations. She only looked back at the group whenever her name was mentioned and did her best to look as if none of their words were affecting her. She was aware her edginess was tuned down by the fact she was wearing white instead of black.

As the day drew to a close, Belle and Adam got up to show the Fairy Godmother out. Mal, too, stood up to examine the large mural on the side of the wall. Ben remained sitting for a few seconds, and then stood up and walked up behind her. He was watching her with a curious expression as he stood behind her and watched her cross her arms and take in the large, beautiful painting.

"You good?" Ben asked in a whisper that tickled his lips as he spoke.

Mal exhaled through her nose. "Yeah," She agreed in a high, strong voice. then, softer and more guarded: "It's whatever."

"So... no?" Ben asked, watching her eyes flicker back and forth.

Mal didn't answer. The muscles in her arm tensed, and she acted as if he were not there. Then, she raised her hand to the wall and gestured to it. "This is a lovely mural. I used to paint things like this on the Isle."

"Oh, yeah." Ben nodded. "For Mom and Dad's first anniversary, Dad wanted to have the library redone, but the plans took too long to be drawn up. So, two years later, for their third, they began work. Mom was pregnant with me that year and the paint fumes were too much for her most days, so she never saw the progress until after I was born." Ben explained. He let his eyes flicker over the frame of Mal's shoulders as she listened to him and took a small breath.

Mal chewed her cheek in thought. "That's cool. And there's so much detail..." She smiled a little, and then returned to a neutral expression. Her eyes fixed on the floor. "So, this is really happening, huh? I was still kind of hoping I'd wake up and it'd be over."

"Yeah." Ben sighed. "But hey, you're going to be a queen."

"Ugh." Mal groaned. Ben laughed at her dismay and, while she was distracted, slipped an arm around her shoulders. Mal tensed up and shrank away from his grasp, but Ben didn't seem to notice.

"You'll be a great queen, and by the way, you did really good today. I know a couple of Auradon kids who wouldn't have passed the goodness portion of that test." Ben told her.

Mal's eyebrows furrowed. Why would that matter? Was that supposed to make her feel good about herself? 'Some Auradon kids can't do this, so it's amazing a daughter of Maleficent could.' "So... are you comparing the Islanders to Auradonia? That's it's amazing an Islander managed to best any Auradonian?" Mal frowned and turned to look at him.

Ben shook his head. "No." He disagreed. "It's just that you're a good person who comes from an entire island of bad. It's admirable." He reached down for her hand, but Mal jumped away and out from his grasp.

"What are you doing?" She hissed, guarding her hands against him and bracing herself as if she expected him to throw a punch. "And you said no before you basically regurgitated what I'd said." She narrowed her eyes and took a few careful, suspicious steps back.

"Calm down." Ben patted the air with his hands. "I just-"

"And for the record," Mal snapped, interrupting him. "Your parents created the Isle. It's their fault that I'm even here, that I was even born. Auradon is finally getting what's been coming for a long, long time."

"That's not true!" Ben disagreed. "Mal, I was just trying to-"

"I wish I could throw you onto that Isle." Mal hissed. Her eyes were alight with green magic. Ben searched through them and found nothing but weakness. Nothing but guarded faults. A vein began to pulsate in his neck and he balled his fists up. Mal dug in her feet, marched right up to him, and stuck a finger in front of his nose. "Don't you even understand?" She hissed. "You and everything you've grown up with?" She gestured around to everything around them, the furniture, the library, the beautiful mural. "It's abhorrible." She snapped. "You gave the children of your enemies nothing despite their innocence. Generations would have withered away in misery if your parents and their band of petty royals had had their way. I thought you believed everyone could forge their own paths and be anything they wanted in Auradon, despite where they came from."

"We do believe that!" Ben protested. He reached for the hand the hung at her side but she jumped back like he was a hot stone.

"Don't touch me!" She shrieked. "You're liars, all of you!" She began to back up to the door. Ben followed her in small steps. "You already think I'm like my mother, like Cruella, like the Evil Queen! It's your own fault and your own proposed goodness that made you foolish enough to allow my mother to spell your stupid crowns. It's Auradon's fault my mom has cursed me and you. So don't go feeling sorry for yourselves now that your 'happily-ever-after' has a kink. You deserve torment for all the evil you've caused."

Mal turned and fled out of the library. Ben dug his nails into the palms of his hands, turned, and ripped a pile of books off of a shelf to throw to the ground. They clattered to his feet and hid his shoes from view. He kicked them away and dropped down to the carpet, where he buried his face in his hands. She was so arrogant, and self-righteous and... right. Ben pulled his legs up to his chest. She was right.

#descendants #ben and mal #fanfic

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samingtonwilson · 7 years

Text

10 Things I Hate About You - Jim Kirk

Summary: The poem from 10 things i hate about you-- jim kirk edition

Warnings: language, lil angsty

A/N: a bit long once again. i seem to have a thing with the number 10 and jim kirk. huh. hope it’s not too similar to the last one. forgive any typos, i didn’t read this over too carefully. enjoy and please let me know what you think! (P.S. @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse- this is the piece i told you about)

I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair.

There was a deep sting spreading over the skin of your inner thighs. It was as if you needed to be more aware of the angry red abrasions coloring you, as if your skin didn’t feel close to spontaneously igniting with each step you took.

Most days, you would have worn the scuffed skin with pride— you could never think there was anything to be ashamed of. But this was not one of those days. On this day, the sting served as a reminder of the shore leave you would’ve preferred to forget.

As you walked through the halls of the Enterprise, your lips clamped shut to prevent the sound of any unintended winces, you told yourself all you needed was one of Leonard’s magic balms and a good night’s sleep. You told yourself it was doctor’s orders— as if that pathetic addition to your inner monologue would result in a smile.

A few inches from the medbay entryway, you tugged on the hem of your unnecessarily bright blue uniform and took a deep breath. Normalcy, you repeated to yourself. Normalcy is all we’re after.

You inhaled the scent of antiseptic until it hit every corner of your lungs and pulled your PADD closer to your chest as you nodded in greeting to the nurses and even managed a smile when you spotted Leonard in his favorite exam room.

“Didn’t see you on the shuttle.”

You hummed as you approached his side, shrugging when he glanced in your direction. “Made it there late and had to sit with the command ensigns.”

“That explains all’a,” he motioned towards your face, “that.”

“Excuse me?” you asked with an incredulous laugh. You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as Leonard sifted through the newly restocked drawers. “What’s that mean?”

“Don’t usually look as angry as you do right now, sweetheart, that’s all.”

“Angry? I smiled at you!”

He nodded. “Looked menacing enough to have me damn near pissin’ my pants— looked like the homicidal offspring of that Khan bastard.”

“Kind,” you quipped, rolling your eyes as you looked down at the screen of your PADD. “I should go before my first appointment gets to Exam Room 1 and I’m nowhere to be found.”

“It’s Jim so I stocked your cabinet with sedatives,” Leonard winked as you slipped from the room with a weight pulling the corners of your lips downward.

You couldn’t blame him for mentioning Jim so casually. He knew you had a little crush on the man, knew the man had a little crush on you, but was blissfully unaware of what transpired as a result of these tiny crushes.

The thought had you smirking ruefully at the word itself: crush. You thought it was apt.

“You’re early,” you hated the sound of your voice as you spoke to his back. It sounded as if you’d ingested helium, as if your vocal cords shook beyond your control. But, rather than show Jim your annoyance at yourself, you offered him a smile as he faced you. A smile you hoped was not as menacing as the one you offered Leonard moments ago.

He smiled back at you. His face was bare, all of the two-week growth that painted your inner thighs gone. He’d even trimmed his hair, the soft blonde hair your fingers ruined each day of those two weeks looking brand new.

You thought he might have been eliminating traces of you. After all, the deal was two weeks— two weeks to finally tear through your lingering tension, two weeks to keep fraternization from interfering with your careers. And those two weeks ended the moment you woke up to an empty bed saturated with the scent of mint and citrus.

“No use putting off the inevitable, right?” he said, hopping onto the biobed with ease. “You have to draw my blood and I’d rather you did that when I’m running off the high of a launch.”

There was a soft pinch at the border of your throat as he spoke. Nonchalantly, composed, deprived of anything that was so imbued in his voice the last you spoke. His smile almost finished you off with its easy-breezy feel— you shook your head to yourself, though. Normalcy.

You just needed time.

“Scotty says Keenser actually picked up during shore leave.”

“Wow,” you mused, your voice soft so that any pitch issues could pass by unnoticed. “Didn’t know they made ‘em short enough.”

“You’re concerned about height?” Jim asked with a snort. He looked bright, he sounded bright. “The man’s skin is almost rock-solid, Doc! Who’s that comfortable for?”

I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare.

It took three weeks for Jim to grow tired of the mask he wore. The weight of the thick façade corroded his resolve more and more each day. In the beginning, he’d assumed the opposite. He likened his assumption to the mere exposure effect— the more he saw himself with the mask, the more he withstood the weight of it: the more likely he was to develop a habit of it, if not a liking toward.

Sadly, that ended up being untrue. His exhaustion increased almost twofold everyday, his dislike toward himself increased with the same leap. It would increase even further upon encounters with you— in his mind, you were so unaffected, so… okay. Meanwhile he stroked the bare skin of his cheeks and wished he could regrow that beard you seemed to love so much, maybe still have a part of you with him.

The exhaustion didn’t arrive alone, though; it arrived with self-loathing. He used to pride himself most on his honesty, on his willingness to go against the grain to do what was right for him and for the greater good. But he was not allowed that comfort in this situation and the loss of his comfort resulted in the thick self-loathing he’d never felt before.

There were certain things he couldn’t control. He couldn’t control the way his body changed around you. His chest would ache— a stuttering beat producing a longing he didn’t think he’d be able to withstand. And his eyes would be unable to move from you— as if he wanted to drink you in while he still could. He even kept you from away missions as it meant he could look at you more, unscathed and unharmed— he didn’t know what he’d do if you were put in harm’s way.

Because it wasn’t a two-week-thing for him. It could never be a two-week-thing for him when it came to you.

“For fuck’s sake,” you groaned as your eyes snapped forward again as if the blue you caught sight of was lethal. You nearly stumbled into Uhura as you took a step forward in the commissary queue.

She looked over her shoulder so you could meet her gaze. Her coffee brown eyes were narrowed so her long eyelashes cast a shadow over her sharp cheekbones. “Is it Kirk again?”

“I can’t go anywhere on this goddamn ship without seeing him.” You busied yourself with pulling the skin beside your fingernails. “I know he’s the captain and it’s his ship but can he stop acting like he’s the captain and it’s his ship?”

Uhura snorted. “Yet you’re still friends with him, Doc.”

You scowled at the sound of his nickname for you. “It was just two weeks of sex. If I can’t go back to being friends after that, what does it say about me?”

After a moment, Uhura’s curiosity found Jim and she stared at him with her head tilted. “He’s still looking at you.”

“I don’t care,” you scoffed. You were getting better at the indifference routine.

“Really? Then why have you been complaining about his relentless gawking for the last couple of weeks?”

“I just think it’s sad he’s settled for looking at me when there’s, like, a million stars to look at out the window. Plus, it’s impolite to gawk and his mother has probably taught him better.”

I hate your big, dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind.

You sat in Leonard’s desk chair sideways. Your legs were draped over one armrest while your back rested against the other. A glass of whiskey sat on top of your stomach, a smile of amusement over your lips as you balanced it somehow.

“I should be an acrobat.”

Jim snorted from the seat across the desk. There was a soft pink tint over the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose. His eyes were glassy but focused on you, almost too focused.

He had his obnoxiously heavy booted feet set atop the desk, crossed at the ankles as he held his glass of whiskey tightly between his two hands. “I’d like to see that.”

“You, of all people, Cap, should be supporting me in this endeavor. You can attest to how bendy I am.”

You saw his the electric blue of his irises flash. He hummed. “You’re still the clumsiest person I know.”

“You need to augment the pool of people you know, then,” you mumbled into your glass.

Jim had walked in on you breaking into Leonard’s liquor stash. He didn’t ask any questions upon noticing your reddened eyes and paled skin, he only fell into the seat across from you and told you to pull a glass out for him as well. He knew you needed to forget whatever caused your stuffed nose and forced you to hiccup every third word, and he would forget with you if that was what you needed.

He watched you knock back your sixth drink, his second still untouched. “You know, I can’t imagine my life without you in it. And I’m sure everyone can attest to that.”

When you snorted a laugh of disbelief, he felt as broken as you looked, your bottom lip between your teeth so it could stop shaking with unreleased sobs.

Something about what he said and something about the way he said it made your ribs shake as it hit the spot that hurt so much. “Is there some special reason you’re telling me that?”

He frowned and shrugged. “Just thought you should know.”

I hate you so much it makes me sick — it even makes me rhyme.

You groaned as you flushed the toilet filled with your stomach acid and putrid alcohol-scented upchuck. You rose from your aching knees and smeared enough toothpaste on your brush watch it ooze off the sides. It was the third time you’d gone through that routine in a span of just four hours and the sixth time you’d gone through it in the span of ten hours.

The air in your small shore leave quarters smelled stale— it carried an overpowering mixture of the alcohol leaving your pores, the mouthwash you so diligently swished, and the strawberry-like fruits you had completely forgotten about on your kitchenette counter. Your sheets were too rough— you thought the white fabric might exfoliate your skin for you unintentionally. Your mattress was too stiff— you snorted a laugh at the idea that it might have been made of limestone.

You let yourself be angry at all of that— at the scent your room carried, at the bedding that was nothing short of adequate, at the mattress that would’ve hugged you if you gave it a chance. It was certainly easier than accepting what you were truly angry about.

After all, you had no right to be jealous. Jim was yours for two weeks on a shore leave months ago. Who were you to burn at the sight of him with someone else? Who were you to feel your chest tighten, your throat pinch, and your eyes water?

So you refocused all of your negative energy. You suffocated whatever energy you could by drowning it in vodka and unleashed the remnants upon your sheets, upon your mattress, upon the strawberry-like fruits that understood the neglect you so deeply felt.

There was anger focused on yourself that you couldn’t control, though, no matter how hard you tried. Each time you looked in the mirror throughout the course of the day, you only saw how your body deceived you. You only saw the red rimming your eyes, the swelling of your features, the sadness so clearly coating your irises. You’d told yourself there was no reason to be upset, no reason to feel your heart break at such a trivial occurrence. It just seemed that you didn’t listen, that you were too far gone to listen, too angry to listen over the whoosh of blood pumping in your ears.

“I’m okay, Bones.”

He snorted from one of the four too-tall, too-straight, too-uncomfortable chairs encircling the sorry excuse for a dining table. His eyes seemed to notice all of your body’s deceit as well. “S’good thing you didn’t go into acting, sugar. You’re the most unconvincin’ —”

“Bones,” you interrupted, your voice soft. You tried to smile at him a little. “I only asked you to bring some food and maybe nausea medicine. You don’t need to play therapist. I’m fine, it’s just a small problem of mine.”

“‘Fine,’” he snorted. “You’ve looked miserable for a while, it just hasn’t come to head until now.”

He sighed and placed a large, warm hand over yours. His hazel eyes softened as he looked over you. “I’ll kill whoever it is, just name ‘em.”

You smiled easily, shaking your head. “What makes you think someone did this? I’m an independent person— I can make myself miserable without anyone’s assistance.”

I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie.

“I got you something.”

You looked up from the table at which you sat, tilting your head at Jim as he slid a small paper bag under your nose. “Why?”

A frown of consideration was spread over his lips and he set his elbows atop the table. He drummed his fingers against the surface and raised his thick eyebrows, shrugging. “Figured you haven’t eaten.”

You glanced around the sparsely populated commissary— few red shirts were clustered together in the back right corner and the nurses you preferred to have by your side in the medbay were situated at the far left.

You had decided to take your break earlier— there was a higher likelihood of peaceful solitude after half a shift of performing physicals that way.

“Assumptions can be harmful, Jim.”

“Did I assume correctly?”

“Yes,” you admitted, desperately wishing the smile that pulled at your lips would quash itself. “But I’ve been feeling kind of sick lately and replicator food is hardly a good antidote—”

“It’s not replicator food.”

“So what, you’re just sneaking actual, fresh food on board now like contraband? S’not allowed.”

He flashed you a crooked smile, leaning forward so you could feel his breath caress your already warm cheeks. He watched as your eyes widened a little. “Next time you want to reprimand me for breaking the rules, Doc, try not to sound so aroused.”

You sat back in your seat, creating a wider distance between the two of you. “Cap, I’d like to see someone who doesn’t get aroused at the prospect of actual, real food on this starship— even if we’ve only been back for a day.”

You pulled a small basket of the same fruit you’d let rot on the kitchenette counter of your shore leave quarters, biting down on your lip. You looked at Jim and tilted your head. “How’d you know I like these?”

“I didn’t know,” he answered, taking one of the red berry-shaped fruits for himself. “I like them.”

The face he made as he took a bite indicated otherwise.

I hate it when you make me laugh — even worse when you make me cry.

You stepped between Jim’s legs, placing your hand against his right cheek. You tapped your finger against his skin three times and kept your eyes in the blue haze before you. You had to work hard to not crack a molar due to the strength with which you gritted your teeth.

You used your hand to turn his face and stare at the long gash that ran from below his temple to the middle of his cheek. There were several smaller cuts sprinkled over his face, disturbing the otherwise smooth surface. You had to suppress a loud and heavy sigh.

“You could be more gentle.”

You tried to focus on the beeping of the biobed monitor rather than the amusement in his voice. “You could be less of an idiot.”

“Now that’s not fair.”

“Yeah? Did someone ask you to go near volatile machinery while the ship passes through a magnetized nebular field?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at the cut as you rolled a cotton swab coated in povidone-iodine over its length. You watched as it slightly stained the surrounding skin to a deep rust color. “I would think when Scotty warns you not to and actually tells you he’s the only one authorized to handle it, you would play fair and command your ship from where you were meant to.”

He tried to turn to face you but you pushed back with more force. He clicked his tongue in reaction and you felt his jaw clench under your gloved fingertips. “I was trying to make sure there would still be a ship to command.”

“That’s what your chief engineering officer is meant for.”

“And are my physicians meant to lecture me?”

“Only when you’re being stupid,” you returned through your teeth, picking up the dermal regenerator from the biobed and firing it up once you held it to Jim’s cut.

You watched the red light work its magic, chewing the inside of your cheek in silence. Once you reached the halfway point of the scar, you let yourself glance at Jim— he looked a bit worn down, less bright than you were used to.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, almost inaudible over the regenerator’s whirring. You caught Jim’s eye as he peered at you. “I know you were only doing what you thought was right.”

He dropped his gaze, looking as far down as his held-steady head would let him. “No, you’re right. I tend to be headstrong sometimes.”

“‘Sometimes’?” you repeated with a soft smile, the chuckle leaving your lips almost foreign to you in its involuntary nature.

You sighed after a moment, switching the handheld machine off. “You have no idea how much it worries me to see you like this. Especially after I hear you’ve been interfering with engineering, you yellow shirt.”

You felt him smile.

“The last time you did that, I had watch Bones identify your body,” you added, shaking your head when you felt your throat pinch. “I am sorry if I come across a bit harsh, but it comes from a good place.”

You’d made a promise to yourself the night your jealousy led to an enormous intake of alcohol. You told yourself you wouldn’t be upset over Jim. You wouldn’t feel jealousy, sadness, anger over him as you had no right to. But, once again, it seemed that your body was betraying you as a few heavy tears fell onto your cheeks and burned the way down.

All you could do was grit your teeth and hope for it to pass.

I hate it when you're not around. And the fact that you didn't call.

Jim was moving on! Or so he told himself.

He was doing all he could to get you out of his mind. After all, you were the only thing on it for how ever many torturous months he spent convincing himself friendship was enough. And after seeing how broken you were as you patched him up, how restless you became at his very presence for the following weeks, he knew there was no way he could be around you without holding you until the frustration left your limbs, without kissing you until the fear left your eyes. So he avoided you.

He spent less time heckling Leonard in the medbay as he ran the risk of bumping into you in the stark white room. He avoided the commissary at times he knew you would be there, he chose to spend evenings in his room rather than the senior officers’ lounge, he reiterated to himself that the observation deck was off-limits. He did all he could to get you off his mind.

The problem was, though, that he couldn’t.

When you noticed his absence at first, you were a bit relieved. No more staring, no more dirty boots trudging through your quarters, no more assumptions that turned out to be annoyingly true— your body couldn’t betray you if he wasn’t around. For those first few days, you subscribed to the “out of sight, out of mind” principle. Only it failed you by the end of that week.

You noticed his absence made you think of him more. You began to pay more attention to the voices you heard around you in the commissary, hoping to pick his out of the bunch. You spent more time in Leonard’s office, bothering him until you resigned back to your post. Your body betrayed you anyway and you did all you could to ease the tightness in your chest.

The problem was, though, that you couldn’t.

But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you—

You found yourself at Jim’s door. Your hand was raised and you leaned your knuckles against the metallic surface, setting your forehead there as well.

You groaned inwardly.

You raised your hand again, knuckles at the ready… before placing them against the door once more. Not a sound could be heard.

You shook your head this time. You took your hand from the door and shook it, taking a deep breath and counting to ten. Then you counted to twenty, then thirty, then forty.

With a loud sigh and a curse under your breath, you raised your hand and rapped your knuckles against the door with a force you didn’t know you were capable of. You regretted it immediately and considered racing down the hall to slide into the safe confines of the turbolift, but stood your ground.

When the door slid open, you didn’t give yourself enough time to watch his eyes widen or his mouth fall open. You looked over his shoulder and said, “I need to tell you something.”

He moved out of the way and silently motioned for you to enter.

You fell onto his couch. You crossed your legs at the knee, then at the ankle, and once again at the knee— you settled at the knee. You twisted your fingers together.

“Is everything okay?”

The breath you’d been holding left your lips in a single gust. You took your eyes, useless with the blur of unshed tears, from your fingers to Jim’s vague form. “No.”

You blinked hard, looking away only to look back at him as he knelt before you.

He took your hands in his much larger, much warmer ones and stared up at you as if every planet he was sent to explore resided in your irises, pupils dilated enough to consume you entirely. He watched a few more tears escape the corners of your eyes and felt them burn his cheeks as they rolled down your face.

He had to clear his throat before he spoke a soft, “What’s wrong?”

“I thought what we were doing was the right thing to do,” you told him in a voice that broke more times than you’d care to admit. “But the right thing shouldn’t feel like this.”

You took a shaky breath and wiped your cheeks clean. You almost leant into one of his hands as he took it from yours and cupped one side of your face, his thumb brushing your skin lightly. “I had you for two weeks. I thought I would get it out of my system, get you out of my system— but I couldn’t. All I could think about was how stupid those people are that claim it’s better to have a little than to have none.

“I would trade those two weeks just to have you as a friend again— and I know we still are now, but it’s not the same. I used to be more comfortable around you than anyone. Now I look at you and I’m scared that you’ll see how in love I am with you and you won’t feel the same.”

Jim sat up a bit, letting his hand move from the side of your face to rest against the back of your neck. Looking at you in a way that forced your heart into your stomach, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against yours softly. He let his nose bump yours. “You have absolutely nothing to be afraid of— trust me.”

— not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

#LISTEN. READ THIS RIGHT NOW #IT TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE #i'm crying yall what if this is so bad and im telling myself it's ok because i want to get a piece out #i had this idea and almost peed myself i was so excited to write it but when i started writing it just got away from me #whoops #jim kirk #jim kirk imagine #kirk imagine #jim kirk x reader #star trek #star trek imagine #captain kirk x reader #captain kirk imagine #imagine kirk #imagine jim kirk #kirk x reader

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